"Honey, I've broken the dog"

A tale as old as time...

I’d heard it a million times when I first started training Mocha, and I’ve heard it a million times since. No, not the fact that “a Labrador is born half trained, and a spaniel dies half trained", although that may very well be the case. No, it was the fact that “everyone ruins their first dog”. Being the competitive sod that I am, I was determined to defy this claim, but, alas, I was wrong.

The primary issue, as far as I can tell from my now three years, two months and twenty-six days of dog ownership, is that us first-time dog owners are bloody impatient. I did, of course, have my gundog trainer on hand to guide us on our way, as mentioned in previous articles . What I should have asked for more guidance on, was how to manage the transition from dummies to game. That, and perhaps more importantly, how and when to increase the volume of game that the little dog was exposed to.

Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin... impatience.

As I have written about before, the syndicate that I joined for our first season was a small, relaxed, working man's shoot. Mocha had sat very nicely on the peg, albeit tethered, and remained calm and composed during our first five or six days. Birds were at times sparse. Shot ones even more so, and thus there were a very small number that the dog could retrieve. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat frustrated. After countless hours spent with our gundog trainer, hundreds of hours in the fields near to our home, honing our craft, I was left asking myself what was all that for? I felt guilty for the dog more than anything, as she is such a biddable dog, so keen to please, and clearly loved nothing more than retrieving. But she just wasn't getting many opportunities to do so.

I must admit, the desire to improve my shooting ability was also ever growing, which had not helped Mocha's limited retrieves thus far. I felt that I needed more opportunity to shoot at game, instead of clays, in order to improve my very poor first season ratio.

The answer, my inexperienced, impatient, and naive self thought, was to buy a peg on a much larger day at a commercial shoot - just an hour or so from where we lived. This turned out, he says with the benefit of hindsight, to be a big mistake.

“Well, she’s behaved on every syndicate day, so this is the logical next step, right?” I thought.

The day it all went a bit Pete Tong...

I simply had not prepared myself for the sheer volume of birds in comparison to the syndicate, and indeed the amount of quarry that subsequently fell around us. My previously steady, patient and calm dog began to perform the spaniel squeak. Spaniel owners will know this isn’t a whine or a howl as such, in fact, it’s quite a cute little whimper. Though, the first time it happens, you die inside. Firstly, because you know that noise is generally considered a cardinal sin, at risk of irritating guns on either side of you. But also because it's bloody distracting when you’re trying to shoot. Noise and excitement aside, I did enjoy the chance to shoot (and miss) more birds than I would usually have on a day in the field, but I felt an immense amount of guilt. It was clear that this was far too soon to be exposing my dog to a day like this. 

And so, we returned to the syndicate the following week, hoping for a return to normality. Sadly, the penny had firmly dropped in the little dog's head. That day had shown her what this wonderful sport was all about, and she was loving it. A little too much, sadly. Noise, again. Trying her hardest to pull the tether from the ground, again. Sinking feeling in my stomach, again. I was devastated. Her brains were well and truly blown. 

Back to the drawing board...

Don’t despair, though, folks… it’s not all doom and gloom. 

I have now well and truly learnt my lesson, and I have spent the last two seasons trying to ‘unbreak’ my spaniel. We have taken things much more slowly, attended multiple simulated peg-dog and picking up days in the off season, worked hard on her steadiness, and tried to work on ‘switching off’. After a lot of time, effort and cost, I am pleased to say that we are making progress.

Much to my delight, at a shoot a few weeks ago, Mocha sat through the entire final drive untethered, on the peg, with only one minor run-in attempt. It wasn’t actually by design, as we realised that my other half had left the lead somewhere near our peg on the previous drive.

“Shit. Well, may as well see how she gets on. We’ve not got much choice have we?”.

Much to my delight, she sat rock solid in front of me, watching as birds flew overhead, and fell in the field around us. It was a very busy drive, too, on a day that ended up with a bag north of two hundred. At the end of the drive, after waiting patiently, she handled well to the birds that I had shot and my heart could have burst. By some margin, that was the proudest moment in our gundog journey together so far. I was utterly convinced I had resigned myself to a life of tethering the little dog, unable to share larger days with her on account of her over-exuberant displays and my initial impatience. 

Since then, she has managed several days picking up without the lead at all, and several other drives on the peg whilst free from the tether. We are yet to complete a full day on the peg mishap free, and yes there is still the odd tiny whimper, but very rarely. And, yes, she may try to run in now and again when a particularly exciting birds falls in close proximity to us, but we’ve come a long way since that fateful day in our first season. For my first dog I honestly couldn’t be prouder of her, or love her any more if I tried. 

One minute of patience, ten years of peace...

So, three and a bit years later, it turns out that people were right. We all do it, we all rush our dogs… especially our first dogs. But please, don’t. Save yourself the years or guilt, stress, frustration, and self-loathing by slowly increasing the dog's exposure.

I must remember to re-read this article once our new pup arrives in the New Year, and perhaps, every time I feel tempted to rush things thereafter…