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SEPTEMBER 2008 TIP OF THE MONTH
Is it Really the Dog?
All right, if you don’t like the hokey stuff, switch over to another site quickly; this is going to be one of those. Recently I saw an absolutely perfect example of a phenomenon that occurs everywhere in life, but is readily visible and consistently present in the training of intelligent animals. At a recent and extensively long event it was the last day and the last series. We were all tired, the judges, the help, the contestants, the birds and the dogs. It was hot; the conditions were exactly what we didn’t want to pull off the upland aspect of the event. There was no wind, the birds were hard or impossible to find, or; they were running away before we even got there. Nobody was too excited about their turn, but if and when the wind kicked up or the clouds covered the dropping sun, the chances of doing well in the field increased.
I had a number of dogs in the series so I couldn’t get out of running when I was supposed to. However there were a couple of folks determined to get the best chances they could at their ‘time at bat.’ Instead of running in the order the stake Marshall gave the contestants, they would go get their dogs ready and when the conditions looked good, avoid the Marshall and the remaining handlers watching things, to go behind the line of cars and be queued up at the holding blind out of reach of the Marshall trying to get everyone to play the game like adults.
One handler hadn’t had a good weekend and was obviously intent on doing everything possible to pass the bird hunting portion of the last series. The clouds covered the sun thickly and on cue, the wind kicked up to provide much improved scenting conditions. We saw the handler as he skirted the trucks and went up alongside the road with his cooled off wet dog. As a matter of fact, it had been my turn to run but as I was being called to get to the blind I pointed out to the Marshall that another dog was already on its way to the field. The Marshall was going to walk way out there and require that handler come back and allow me to run, but having been through this so very many times, I stated I’d run after the adamant line jumper and sat back down to watch.
Another seasoned handler sat in the chair beside me watching this minor drama unfold. The quiet comment was made, “Karma takes care of these things every time.” We both smiled and watched as the handler and his dog entered the breezy, cool field, the best conditions of the day for that event. The dog began the hunt, running more wildly than I would have liked in a bird laden field. A pheasant flew up as the noisy dog ran by furiously. The handler called the dog back from the chase and decided to reel the excited animal in a little more. The dog continued to hunt hard though it remained tough even with improved conditions. Finally after a while the dog located another bird. The gunner went in to flush the bird and as soon as the bird broke the cover and began to fly, the dog took off after the bird refusing to remain steady to wing and shot as the test criteria required. The dog caught the low flying bird out of the field and proudly returned the squawking animal to its grimacing handler. They failed, leashed up and left the even more bird laden field in extreme frustration.
I got up calmly (exhausted would be more appropriate but calmly fits this story better) going to my truck to get my next dog. The sun returned and the breeze lessened. I took note of that but I didn’t let it alter one single thought in my head. I was going in an upland field to hunt birds in a controlled and focused manner, have a dog steady to flush, wing and shot and hope for the best of things – period. As you can imagine, I wouldn’t be telling this story if it didn’t have a decent conclusion; the next 3 dogs I ran passed the field in fairly short order and I ran exactly when they told me to every time.
So what is the point here? It isn’t what you probably think. I’d like to say the answer is superior training and handling shines through every time, but the real answer is a little different. When each of my dogs and I prepared for our run, there was no desperation. I fail dogs too, and I failed a couple in that particular field. But we run when we are supposed to, not having to worry and hide and hope no one catches us sneaking up in line. Or, hiding way back and hoping to ‘miss the call’. There is a state of calmness and anticipation, but there is no “I have to get this, I need to do whatever it takes to get through this one test.” That is a bad mental state to do anything in, but especially bad when working with an animal you need in the exact opposite state. To be successful in virtually any testing or competitive venue, you need your animal focused, intent on the task at hand, clear, eager and ready. You aren’t going to create that in your dog (or kid or friend or yourself) if you are operating out of desperation, fear of failure or frustration and anger.
That handler I described was desperately wanting to get this job done successfully, really, really frantically wanting to get this done even if it meant unsportsmanlike behavior or unfairness to someone else. He didn’t really care about the desires or needs or requests of another, he just wanted this chance to get what he wanted.
So isn’t that exactly what his dog did as well? The urgency in the handler transmitted directly to the dog, and the dog did exactly what his handler did. I guess we could call that Karma, but really it is just someone reaping what they sew. He took on this desperate, urgent, frantic approach to what he wanted and his dog followed suit. Who knows what would have happened had he approached the whole endeavor as if it weren’t life or death, or worth stomping on his fellow competitors, but approached in a professional and reasonable manner, but maybe, just maybe, his dog would have done the same.
It goes with everything we do with these dogs. When we undertake training to prove something to somebody instead of believing the training is important and enjoyable to carry out, the dogs completely and totally reflect that. When we resort to underhanded, unfair or extreme means to get a desired result, our animals respond in kind. When we train in anger the animals push back the only chance they have, in front of everyone when you can’t fall back on your angry or unfair methods. When we correct far more than we teach, our dogs reflect the lack of schooling and show only an animal living with continual criticism.
Maybe most importantly of all, whatever your true state of mind is, your dog is a novel written to illustrate that, readable by everyone around the two of you. Your dog is a canvas on which you paint your truest colors. Your dog is a literal mirror, that if you could only develop the honesty to look into, you’d see everything you needed to see.
It’s not the wind, not the judges, not the terrain, the cover or the shirt you wore. It is you. Your dog is the mouthpiece through which a heart and soul can speak. If you can, pay attention to that.
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