Firelight Bird Dogs

Firelight Bird Dogs

Thursday, October 5, 2023

Male Dog or Female Dog?

 I am frequently asked which do I think is better, male dogs or female dogs?  I’ll cut to the chase with an answer that reminds me of writing reports in my career in educational psychology:  There is greater difference between individuals than between the two groups (genders.)

Hunter preference for one gender over the other seems to run in waves. For a while the demand will be higher for males, then everyone wants females.  So, are there really differences and what are they?



  • With my dogs, the biggest real difference is going to be size.  My females are consistently 50 lbs, give or take a couple pounds.  My males have more variability, ranging from 55-65 lbs.  Size is pretty much a personal preference.  Some hunters feel that the musculature and bigger size of my males gives them an endurance advantage in thick cover, especially for those who hunt day after day.  Others feel that at 50 lbs the females are lighter on their feet and more agile, giving them better stamina. In the home and on your lap in front of the fire, some like that smaller dogs take up less space. Smaller crates take up less room in a vehicle as well.

  • Sexual maturity/desexing.  No doubt, females coming into heat is a disadvantage. It's messy.  We have to be so careful to keep her away from males and most boarding kennels won’t take a dog in heat.  And don’t they always seem to come into heat during hunting season?  If neutering the female is an option,  for multiple health reasons, the smart owner waits until she is at least 18 months before spaying so there will likely be at least one, maybe two heats to  endure before the spay.  Spaying is also costly; $500-800 seems pretty typical not to mention the risk of surgery which is minor, yet always worrisome.

  • There is no real reason or advantage to neutering a male; in fact studies show that doing so increases chances of bone cancer and ACL injuries.  The question of a male marking in the house is simple: that is an obedience and socialization issue, not a hormonal one, and falls under the same rules as housebreaking.  The same goes for “humping” human legs or other pets.

  • I breed for a smooth, shiny, low maintenance coat.  Females, once spayed, typically undergo a significant change in the quality and quantity of their coat. The texture becomes fluffy and cottony and often more profuse which requires more grooming especially after hunting. The same can happen if one neuters a male.

  • I am often asked about gender personality differences.  This is a tough one and definitely where I think that individual differences matter more than gender. A broad generalization is that my male dogs are perhaps more selfless and just want to be your buddy. They want to ride shotgun in the truck and hang out with me in the workshop.  They will lie on the hard floor just to rest their head on my boot.  My females are very affectionate and will race to the door to go with me and want to be in the same room as I, but once there they seek their own comfort on chairs, dog beds or the sofa. In my experience, my females perhaps are a bit more focused on themselves, the males on the owner.

  • Some hunters have had the awful experience of a buddy having an aggressive dog that harasses or attacks other dogs at the truck or at camp. Those attacks typically involve males but I must say that I have never known one of my males to be aggressive.  A bad situation can create a problem, for sure, but a well bred setter is simply not an aggressive dog. In fact I am afraid my males would fare poorly in a dog fight as they just don’t have it in them.

  • Hunting prowess is also where the differences are individual, not due to gender.  In 54 years of setters I have not seen any quality difference in nose, run, bird finding, staunchness or retrieve that I could attribute to gender. 

So, the gender preference for me is a case of do what I say and not what I do.  If I was to have just one or two dogs as my personal gun dogs, they would be males. They would be my low maintenance truck buddies. Instead, I have a pack full of female dogs and only one male. But that is because I need females for breeding.  I do not believe in repeatedly breeding to the same male(s) so I do not keep my own stud dogs; instead I seek out the best stud for each breeding. My dogs are also with me for life.  When I retire a female from breeding she lives out her life as my gun dog and companion.

So I think the male vs female debate largely falls back onto the old wise words that when shopping for a puppy -  pick the breeder, then pick the litter, then just reach into the box and pick up a puppy.







Thursday, August 17, 2023

Abusing the Good Name of Others

 by Lynn Dee Galey

A friend called today and asked my thoughts on a litter that has puppies available and ready to go. The litter owner was encouraging him to buy a puppy and told him that the sire was from the famous XX kennel and the dam was from the equally respected ZZ kennel so the pups were going to be great.  My friend understandably was attracted to the litter based on this pedigree since in past years his family had actually purchased from both of the named kennels. After I did a little research and checking I replied that I strongly could not recommend the litter.  My friend was surprised because he knows that I like each of the lines behind the pups.  So, what was the problem?

Kennel ZZ and Kennel XX have both been breeding for many years and they have worked hard to earn their strong reputation.  Earned it through honest, ethical breeding practices and dealings with other breeders and puppy buyers.  The problem here is that the owner of this litter is doing unethical things that the good breeders would never do yet they are bragging and banking on those good names as a sales tool. This litter owner is lying by omission by not telling potential buyers that their sire of the litter has hip dysplasia and failed his OFA xrays: they are perhaps banking on the fact that most buyers would just trust and not check the OFA database where the dog’s dysplastic results are openly listed.  In addition, the mother to the litter was bred at only 10 months of age, she had her litter before turning 1 year old.  IF the breeding was accidental, the ethical thing to do would have been to have the vet spay the female right away to avoid producing pups from this disastrous breeding.  Although the litter owner had been in recent contact with the female’s breeder, they never told them about the litter, knowing that the breeding was in direct violation of the purchase contract signed when buying her as a puppy. 

The lesson here for puppy buyers is this: if in order to sell puppies, someone is advertising other breeders kennel names from the pedigree, contact the owners of the kennels being named.  Ask them if they endorse or recommend this breeding. If it is a quality breeding involving their line they will be pleased to talk about why they think it is a good litter and you will hear it straight from the source as to what traits and characteristics their line is expected to contribute. Contact the good breeders whose name is being used, you might also learn that the litter goes against the very reputation they have worked to earn. That someone else is simply trying to profit by using their name.  Honor the names of the good breeders and be an informed buyer.



Note: Since I know that my friends will quickly ask, no, the dogs involved in this situation are not Firelight. 

Friday, April 14, 2023

Diary Page of a Dog Breeder

by Lynn Dee Galey

2:00 am.  I wake and hear Dance panting. It's too warm for April, with temperatures abruptly jumping into the 70's.  The forecast says it will peak at 80 before falling back to the more comfortable (to this northern hermit) 50's and freezes at night. 

Dance takes a big drink and looks for a snack, a positive thing since she has been protesting this whole pregnancy and whelping process by snubbing nearly every food that I bought or prepared for her. At bedtime she had fallen for the "this is my sandwich but I'll share/give it to you" trick and ate a bologna sandwich (on whole grain oat bread, for those worried about nutrition). 

Continuing with her gourmet dining I now offer her a bit of well soaked kibble with a dollop of canned cat food on top. To my delight she eats it. 

I hear noise from Annie's puppy room and check the camera. She is in the box feeding her pups, and soon they are romping around her.

I let Dance out into the yard and stand on the porch listening to the dark quiet and looking up at the clear sky and stars. She quickly comes back in to return to her pups. I crack open the window above the bed and feel the fresh air drifting in as I return to bed. 

A moment of peace and satisfaction. 








Saturday, March 11, 2023

Of Bird Dogs and Brio


by Randy Lawrence

From the beginning, description of gun dog performance has cribbed some of its vocabulary from the world of horses.  Perhaps that is rooted in fox hunting, where horse and hound are inextricably tied.  But even we boot leather bird dog aficionados have been known to steal an expression or two.

Dogs and horses with unusual stamina are said to have "bottom."  A canine or equine that goes off script, that is, becomes unresponsive to handler or rider, is described as having "the bit in his teeth."  Much of what we value in a bird dog's gait comes from the free-flowing examples of the class saddle horse on the move.

A word to describe the most charismatic of horses is "brio," a term with Italian origins that my dictionary says stems from the early 18th century.  That same dictionary defines "brio" as "enthusiastic vigor; vivacity; verve."

That belongs in the lexicon, for I like that in a dog.

One of the much ballyhooed virtues of the throwback type of English setter is a calm, low-key demeanor by which we set great store.  The notion is that such a dog is much easier to live with than the high-wire hijinks of so many of the more modern bloodlines.

But some dogs are "calm" to the point of being phlegmatic.  Doltish.  "Drooling goobers," as a close friend has characterized them, seeming not to care whether school is in session or not.  If it wasn't for the occasional tail wag, we might be tempted to put a palm to the rib cage to see if the dog is breathing.  That kind of dog likely stays within skeet range while hunting, makes for a great fireplace andiron, and an easy pose for the family Christmas card.

But a Drooling Goober has nothing for my soul.

A dog can have spark, a big personality, an obvious enthusiasm for life beyond the feed pan, without being a wacked-out Odie from the Garfield cartoons.  A dog with "brio" is one that is fun to live with, to school, to hunt over, because everything he does is done with a bit of dash, a measure of joy.  That kind of dog is lovely to look at on the move, or in repose.  He simply catches your eye just standing there.




A thoughtful gun dog breeder once wrote that we gravitate toward certain dogs for the same reasons we gravitate toward certain people.  I like people who are upbeat and expressive.  People who are quirky.  Original.  Happy in their work and play.  People who understand when it's OK to be playful and when it's time to get down to business.


                                                                                    

That's Firelight Seth.  He is, as the young folks say, "a good hang."  

When Seth is in the room, I have trouble not watching him.  Not hall monitor watching, as with some of my other crew members, but watching to see what he's doing or thinking...because Seth is no poker player.  I know where his head is at most of the time.  He gets all sober and thinks.  He laughs.  He is also a bit of a worrier, Seth, and right now, his concern that Luke or the puppy Patch will cadge a toy that he might want has him lying near my desk with a plush buffalo, a Kong, and one of those thick rope do-hickeys between his paws where he rests his head and watches his housemates, also making sure where he is lying conveniently keeps Luke and the puppy from being closer to my chair.  

Seth bogarts all the Good Stuff that he had to do without in another blighted period of his life.

He is also incredibly patient with younger dogs.  When called upon to babysit the pointer puppy McNab, Seth put on a brave face, but his eyes were pleading. "What manner of fresh Hell is this?  Can you please help a brotha out over here?"


A freakishly mild February has the woodcock back in our home covert on the earliest date in recent memory.  I have watched different dogs take on the thickets of cane briar in and around our several acres of black alders for 33 years.  Most of my dogs slow down and pick their way through;  even some of the most confident pointers and setters we've run on this farm - Riley, Doc, Fancy, Dusk, Deacon, Moxie - have gone at that covert with a measure of, shall we say, "discretion."

Not Seth.  His SOP is, "Where's the first tee?  What's the course record?  Hand me the driver!"

His tail cracks as he pushes cover, juking like a cutting horse on a cow, skirting the meanest parts on the down wind side, slowing only slightly when his nose catches Something Different.  

For a big dog, Seth is cat footed.  I don't hear him pounding the turf.  He flows through the meanest cover with a big flowing gait that is both powerful and agile.  When he is solo, especially here on his home turf, he is wider, stretching his range to the very edge of his collar bell because he knows where the birds (and I) should be. 

 He checks in without coming in.  He knows his business, and I try hard to stay out of his way.  I will sing to him- "Heeeeeeeeey, YEP!  Yep, Yep!" - the way the field trialers do, like my old friend Bob did on this farm for 40 years, whenever we want to change directions.  A dog like Seth will retire a fella's whistle.

The only thing hotter than the unseasonable air is one of his signature points, tail up, head slightly down, ears forward as I wade into the thick 'n' thorny to get his bird in the air.


He bulls in at the flush, and, shame on me, I let him, the blank gun's report a sort of benediction/exclamation point.  If he swings back, I'll call him in and set him up where he pointed.  If he doesn't, well, today, I am not inclined to play a game of Wannabe Trainer With An Old Dog Who Knows Better. 

Today, we're totally simpatico:  after this long, frustrating winter, I want to get on with it. I want to see if there are woodcock along the old fence row, across the creek, in the paper birches that have sprouted in the old wetland impoundment across the lazy bend of the little creek...because...well...we're having a good time.


Later, when I sing him around toward the brushy draws on the hillside, he's like a kid being pulled off the best roller coaster at the county fair, glancing back over his shoulder as if all of those spindly alders are going to pack up and leave before he gets another ticket to ride.

But he's grinning when runs by, head up, happy to be working, happy to be into birds...happier still when the slip lead stays in my vest and he knows we're simply regrouping for another go. 

His white and orange silhouette flashes in the pale late winter sun, slicing up those hillside thickets with "vigor, vivacity, and verve."

With brio.  I like that in a dog.