A spaniel addiction

Bitten by a Spaniel Addiction.

My first Spaniel came to me by a casual conversation in a pub with my godmother.  ‘John, do you know anyone who is interested in rehoming a one-year-old springer’    A few weeks later I picked up Jasper.  He had been bred by a keeper but after an incident with a range rover resulting in pins in his leg it was decided to rehome him.   I never worked him, the pins plus his ability to swallow whole pheasants and rabbits made that an option I wasn’t going to take, I was still working full time and didn’t have the time or energy to learn myself or teach Jasper.   He was a most wonderful companion though.

After ten years, we lost Jasper to a tumour on his spleen.   A few weeks later we had a message, were we interested in a pup.  A bit more investigation and her cocker bitch was having a litter.   Naively we thought going smaller meant it would be easier than a springer, so we happily said yes please.  Pip arrived, a liver bundle of fun, who was very quick to learn.   At six months old that involved chasing every rabbit and pigeon we came across, and I realized I was going to have to do a bit more training with her and innocently thought ‘wouldn’t it be fun to work her.’

Twelve months later it became obvious that it was not going to happen as I intended, I think I made every mistake a rookie gundog trainer could, too much fun and freedom too soon. A pedigree full of champions doesn’t mean you’ll have a wonderful gundog; it means you will have a very bright dog that trains you the moment your guard is down. Pip is now four and a half, a great companion on walks until she sees a rabbit or squirrel in which case the arousal level goes sky high, and the thought of sitting at heel or going on a lead goes out of the window. I did take her beating a couple of times, the guns could not reload fast enough when she got near the flush point and I had the dreaded whisper, ‘ John , please put your dog an a lead’ to which my thought was, ‘I’ll try’   I eventually pinned her against a fence and got her on the lead to be led away in disgrace ( me , not the dog)

Fortunately the taste of working a dog had lit the fuse paper of my addiction and when Pip was two and a half, my daughter said  ‘Dad, my friends dad is selling some cocker pups, shall we get another’  A few weeks later Jet arrived,   bred by a keeper in the Dales, his sire is Kiltonbeck Rollo, so we knew he had the makings of a good dog if I could get it somewhere near right.  The breeder’s advice was ‘keep him on a lead as long as you can.’ I have started beating with him this season, the joy when I came out of the first conifer plantation and he was still next to me was unbounded, and last time out he picked up a stray runner as we finished the drive and delivered to hand, I was over the moon.     I will never get to trialling standard, he can be a bit noisy when he is wanting to work, and we are still learning but the addiction has taken hold. Next, I need to persuade the powers that be that there is room for another dog in the house.