A Glimpse Into Learning

The other day on her run, 10 month old Crush snapped into a point on the trail but after just a few seconds self released and continued on up the trail.  About 30 yards later a grouse flushed wild only about 20 feet from her, unnoticed until the flush. She went crazy, working the area including backtracking to where she had hit that hint of scent. 

Fast forward to today when I was fooling around trying to get some video, and I saw this:

Swinging in to me, she hit scent;  it didn’t pass the sniff test so she didn’t point but she also didn’t leave. Instead she turned and hunted up parallel to the trail.  I can only imagine her nose was set on High at that moment.

 This 11 second video shows learning. In that brief encounter the other day she learned to not totally dismiss, or dwell upon, what might have been only a hint of scent. Instead, today, Crush turned and worked the cover forward. 

Lessons include me.  I was reminded to trust my puppy to learn and do the right things. I was reminded of the value of my staying quiet and letting the birds be the teacher, not thinking that I know more.  

Had I said "Whoa!" the other day when she hit point we maybe could have handled that particular bird.  She maybe would have learned that a hint of scent plus whoa = bird. However, I imagine that dogs come across crumbs of scent hundreds of time each run and it would be very inefficient (and aggravating to me) if the dog stopped and pointed each time because she thought that’s what I wanted.  I sure as heck don’t know what they are scenting or if there is indeed a bird there.  That's why I have a dog.  Had I interfered the other day she would not have had that mini lesson about running birds.  She learned more from her own mistake and the grouse's response than I could ever teach her.

 

The photo below is of my puppy, later in the run, pointing a bird that proved to be quite a ways off.  Crush is proving to be a good student. 

Trial dogs and Llewellins - Oh My!

 By Lynn Dee Galey

For years breeders have been breeding their Ryman-types to Ryman-types, feeling it was perpetuating a good thing.  But genetic regression to the mean has resulted in common opinions in the bird dog world of Rymans such as “in the field they are as exciting as watching paint dry” and “is he on point or just standing there.”  It’s sad, but true as I have seen dogs that deserve that disheartening assessment.  I try to see and hunt with dogs from as many different lines as possible and also to watch field trials to give me perspective. That is what began my path to outcrossing in my own breeding program to continue my legacy of good looking traditional setters with a high dose of talent and style.

As someone who has been running setters since childhood and for a couple of decades also had show champions, I am all about having excellent bird finders who also please my eye.  But the field talent must come first in choosing breeding stock and talent can only be determined by seeing it with your own eyes.  Every owner loves to say that their birddog is “a really good one” but before I will breed to a dog I want to do my own experienced, objective assessment.

There is a startling variety of hunting English Setters in the US. But as Hall Carter of Old Hemlock Setters and I discussed one evening, really good bird dogs are simply really good bird dogs. A really good hunting dog could be successful in certain types of trials and the really good trial dogs can excel as hunters. It’s the “really good” that makes the difference.  Neither dogs who are boring to watch or dogs who are hyper and run into the next county are really good ones. 

Intentionally I live smack dab in prime grouse habitat.  Using wild birds for training and development allows my dogs to show me what they really have. It is also handy when I want to evaluate a potential stud dog and can simply invite them to come visit and we “take a walk” if I won’t have the opportunity to hunt with them come fall. 

This past fall, much of my hunting season was dedicated to developing puppies and a yearling.  This made for lots of fun and many, many trips into the woods.  Included in the group were one linebred Firelight pup, a yearling outcross to a CH Llewellin, and puppies from an outcross with some very famous trial champions behind their sire.  Too young for the fall was an “ace up my sleeve” of a beautiful granddaughter of my Seth, from the breeder of my very first English back in the ‘90’s.

One must be very aware that outcross breedings are not a matter of putting two dogs together and expecting that the puppies will be a lovely blending of the most desirable traits of each parent.  However, in these youngsters, the results were fun and promising. All of the youngsters are gentle, calm, biddable and good looking.  The linebred girl will be a solid, honest bird dog.  The Llewellin yearling outcross (and her siblings) are smooth, fun and eye catching afield, very productive bird finders and bird handlers for their age.   My two trial outcross puppies are super exciting.  Pointing grouse from 5 months, their search is advanced beyond their age;  they slam on to point and are cool and composed while holding birds.

2024 will see Firelight females bred to an outcross of a highly reputable “trial” line, a Llewellin outcross bred back to a Firelight male, and a linebred gal crossed to a very precocious old-blood Llewellin.  It promises to be a fun year.

Some of the youngsters from this past fall 

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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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

 

Rough Fall

by Lynn Dee Galey

Hunter's blogs are typically about glory days, full of birds, steady dogs and steadier guns. Like many others, I have a huge catalog of photos from so many of those days across the many years. And there will be many more to come, I'm sure. But this years entries are not as plentiful as most years and I have come to discover that I'm not alone.

We don't read much about are when things out of our control fail to align yet have considerable impact on our hunting.   This piece has been percolating in my brain after similar conversations with several very good grouse hunters.  Three of those hunters are friends that I consider "1 percenters" on ruffed grouse. These are guys who know grouse and habitat inside and out and talk about the diet and habits of grouse as thoroughly as some do their children. Their bar is set high for how their dogs handle birds and the dog is to set them up for efficient, productive gunning.  But the common thread heard in each of our conversations is that this has been a very rough fall on ruffs for each of us with fewer hours on the ground and fewer birds in the bag. 

Weather came up as a big player this year with temperatures much too warm, many days getting into the 70s.  It was possible to get out for a short hunt early in the day, coming back to the truck sweaty and hot and dogs played out by the water buckets.  But to those of us who typically hunt 50+ days in the early season it felt wrong.  We couldn't get into the usual rhythm of the Fall, when this year we would wake in the morning and feel in the air that it was already warmer than we like to hunt. Too often we would pull on shorts and a tshirt instead of hunting pants and boots and disappointed dogs would sigh and go lie down.

Conditions were dry, too.  Bone dry. The rustling of leaves on the ground makes for good word play but serves as a loud alarm for wildlife, and birds were heard but not often seen as they blew out far ahead even in front of solid dogs.  The warmth however seemed to attract an ever-increasing number of out of state and downstate hunters and every pull off was well worn from truck tires.  Tailgate photos from those folks showed numbers of woodcock and maybe a single grouse.  It apparently was a good year for woodcock hunters.

Employment and jobs this year played a bigger role than usual for friends. I'm not sure if it is a reflection of the instability of our country's economy or perhaps a phase related to the age of my friends, but job losses and job demands devoured many hours for several friends.  These are folks who normally have their work and hunting schedules ironed out months in advance for a seamless number of weeks of hunting.  

Personally this fall I struggled with multiple dog injuries which is very unusual for my crew of 7. I literally go years without any dog issues but this fall some of the dogs spent all of their allowance at the vets and weeks at home on the DL.  With my vet being an hour drive each way, each visit interrupts a whole day.  My vet is a bird hunter herself and just yesterday when she walked in and saw me sitting there again asked, "What are your dogs doing to you lately?!!"

 

I don't write this to whine or complain and conversations with friends were not whine sessions either.  Just an observation, more of a surprise, or disappointment. We  each still had memorable days this year, just not as many, and it all felt a bit out of sync.  We each hope that late season in December will offer good days yet to come.  The 18" or so of snow out my door is taunting our optimism, but the collars, boots and gun are all still sitting near the door.