Dog Games - Part 1

“Have you seen the dogs lately?!” I shouted. My brother-in-law on the left, father-in-law on my right, and me, in the middle, had been following belled setters up a large draw. Neither them, nor I, had seen or heard from the dogs for a time. I suspected they were locked on birds somewhere and experience told me that wily roosters would run to the distant edge of cover to avoid our in-line march.

Looking for such places, I spied a pair of statuesque setters frozen on either side of a small drainage to our right. “They’re on birds!” I motioned for my companions to make haste! Pheasants are an impatient fowl and would likely reconsider their current tactic of waiting things out. The setters, one English and the other a Gordon, were among the best I have ever owned. I had no concern for them doing their part.

The men had never hunted behind pointing dogs, I was nearly bursting with pride as I encouraged both men to move toward the dogs. That quickly morphed to confusion and, then, to frustration as the pair stood impatiently like waiting for a bus. I quick-stepped around my father-in-law and hiked up-slope toward the motionless dogs.

This attempted demonstration went unheeded. In fact, my father-in-law became more annoyed. “Can you get’em back down here?!” he called up to me. Apparently, still not understanding how it works, both stood, still in line, with gun butts to the ground like waiting for inspection on a parade ground.

Hunting large expanses such as Colorado’s front-range, without dogs, folks have developed this in-line march to herd unseen birds to the end of cover. I had seen the technique in magazines and on outdoor television, but the closest I’ve ever come was a hunter or two working along a drainage while dogs searched for scent. It went without saying, I thought, that the formation was more nebulous than strict. It seemed quite natural, to me, to follow the dogs.

I had made the edge of cover that rimed a field of sparse stubble and moved to the black and white setter named Ted. Teddy-dog was in the golden years of age and was as steady as he was still game. Within a few steps into the weedy cover, there was an explosion of feather and dust as the rooster lost its battle of nerves! Clattering almost straight away, and in view of the hunters below, the bird folded into the center of the small drainage at the gun’s report!

With Ted on the way to retrieve the reward for his efforts, I glanced across to the still-focused black and tan Gordon named Roc. Next, I looked down toward the seemingly bewildered team of hunters, their stance unchanged. I hesitated for a moment, whether unwilling to leave their post or make the climb, it was apparent that the others still would not budge. Collecting the rooster from Ted and pushing the bird into my vest, I started around the head of the draw toward Roc where the scene was repeated.

That was over three decades and hundreds of hunts ago and, yet, it stays with me. Not for reasons of pride, self-righteousness or similar foolishness but the oddity of the situation. The stubborn insistence to adhere to a specific strategy – even when it doesn’t apply itself effectively to the situation at hand.

Ted, (foreground) and Roc were splendid examples of the “real deal”.

Another thought. Before the local trap and skeet range was shut-down, my average was around 90%. In contrast, and weird coincidence, my shooting percentage on various sporting clay grounds and on wild prairie birds seems to run about the same – around 60 - 70%. (Obviously, dove and forest grouse are not included in that statistic.) I wonder, “Could that be due to the more random nature of the target’s flight”?

Like the infield in baseball, all trap and skeet ranges have the same configuration with very little variance. The shooters can practice at one location and apply the same approach at all the ranges they visit and a higher shooting average should be expected. In contrast, like golf courses, sporting clay courses vary a great deal and, unless you play the same course exclusively, the shooter must adapt on the fly - pun intended.

Please bear with this one last observation. Due to our younger son’s interests, I was keenly involved in youth football for a time. In our area there were two directions you could go, tackle or flag football. They each continued their grid-iron journey until their paths joined in middle school. At this point of convergence, they would all play full-contact.

Players from the equally well-organized flag football program may have out-numbered their tackle contemporaries by a skosh in the beginning weeks of seventh-grade late summer practice. Yet, despite their numbers and having some very talented players, my guess is about 80 percent of the former flag-football participants didn’t make it to the end of the season. The number dwindling to nothing (or nearly so) by the following season.

Tee-ball to baseball, slow-pitch softball to fast, video games to…well, nothing. The comparisons are almost endless and, after many years of observation, what I have concluded is that “similar” doesn’t mean “same”. Apply that thought where you will. Consider, with all of the best equipment and purest intent, a photograph of a steak doesn’t taste like, and therefore isn’t, a steak.

When it comes to gun dogs, there are several sports or, otherwise, activities and an equal number of reasons for participation. For some, it’s a social event filled with likeminded people and wonderful dogs. It’s a picnic and a reason to watch dogs do what they’ve been bred and trained to do. For others, it’s their livelihood. Breeding fine dogs and winning many championships means they can demand a high price for dogs and advice. The stakes are high and the competition keen.

I have always trained dogs toward hunting with a very limited background when it comes to field games. None with the relatively new hunt tests. For a young dog (or first-time owner), I always ask what the dog owner wants from the dog. Field or forest – pheasants or ruffed grouse? Where and what will they primarily hunt? In my first year of “professionally” training upland gun dogs and their owners, I was surprised to find myself preparing almost as many dogs for field tests as for hunting. This required some research and offered additional experience.

Before I begin the basis for my musings, I should confess a slight philosophical prejudice. I have been a very competitive individual all of my life and can relate to physical challenges where a clear winner is determined. Humans, animals, manufacturing or invention, I believe that experience along with competition will improve certain aspects of those that participate. The single inherent problem with competition, from performance enhancing drugs to atomic weaponry, left unchecked, it can go too far. You don’t have to agree, history proves this out.

On the matter of upland pointing dogs and competition, I lean quite heavily toward the sport’s ability to develop and demonstrate an ideal (bird) dog. “What’s an ideal upland pointing dog?” you ask. I would think, for most of us, an ideal hunting dog is one that enjoys actively seeking, pointing, and retrieving feathered fowl for its human counterpart - me. Most of all, always and everywhere, a trusted and mindful companion.

Sporting dogs in the true sense and tradition. That’s “Teddy” on the left.

Do they exist? I’ve had many that came awful close. Even so, I believe that was the original intent; the pinnacle for all breeds of (pointing) dogs.

Since our qualifying factor is a sport’s ability to develop an ideal pointing dog, the question becomes, to what degree do various dog competitions meet this intent?

For the sake of time, I will concentrate on events that affect only upland pointing dog breeds. As with just about any subject where one can form an opinion - politics, society, sport, etc. – there are elements to the far reaches of, generally, two sides.

On the one end of the spectrum there are events that I have a difficult time using the term, “competitions”. They are subjective and based on a set of physical characteristics; the outcome tossed to and fro at the whim of whoever is making the judgement. Of course, what I am describing are dog shows.

The exaggerated features, stance and flowing locks of a show English setter (above) has nothing to do with it’s sporting heritage. In contrast, the field English setter (below) has a sleek and athletic build with a balanced stance that most often comes naturally. With training and experience the latter will develop the brains required to outwit wily roosters.

Upland show dogs are categorized in the Sporting Group, though they may not be allowed to actively participate in the sport(s) that put them in that category. These are superficial canid events that have collectively reduced several breeds to physical and mental ruin. For some, all evidence of the breed’s sporting origins has been systematically removed for the sake of appearance. The focus on conformation, ignoring more pragmatic virtues, dog beauty pageants have destroyed several sporting breeds. Again, history is on my side here.

I cannot bear to watch my beloved setters – English, Irish or Gordon – distorted physically and mentally reduced by this practice. Clunking around a ring, exaggeratedly featured and knuckleheaded, show setters cannot compare to the endurance, athletic prowess, and graceful gate of a true field setter.

One may rightly argue that this is all primarily due to competition. These dogs were bred to win shows where the paramount achievement is basic obedience and physical attributes. I will just counter by saying that that proves my point. Competition had, indeed, developed specialization toward its perception of perfection. However, in the matter of Sport-class dogs, show goals tend to move away from the breed’s historical origins.

All remaining major forms of competition and tests that include upland (pointing) dogs involve dog performance as it relates to finding birds - in one form or another. To these event formats I would say, “To each their own”.

Perhaps you think I’ve been too harsh on this end of the spectrum? Well, it’s just one man’s opinion - based on a stated criteria. You’re certainly welcome to yours.

I mentioned that I was going to discuss the distant ends of canine competition. What would you consider as the complete opposite of what was discussed here?

That is what we will discover in the next segment.