The Best Laid Plans…….
This will not be a standard tale of “Got pup, raised him and he turned out the worlds best all rounder”, all rounder is an over used term and it is my belief that many such tales are by people with over active imaginations or people who have not seen a good number of different dogs run.
No, this tale will be a realistic story of a normal dog owned by a very average dog lad.
This little canine adventure started with an advert on the internet, I had been considering my options for a new lurcher, as my main working Lurcher at the time had suffered a serious leg break which resulted in me parting with some serious money.
Even though the specialist had done the most fantastic job of mending my broken dog, I knew that she would not withstand the amount of work I wanted to throw at her.
Also, I didn’t want to get left without a dog again and so a new main worker was needed with the old girl in reserve.
And so, as if by magic, there was the advert for a Bull/grey x Saluki/grey.
I had read a few tales about Lurchers of such make up and they seemed to have all the characteristics that I thought I wanted, a quick call on the mobile and the seller sent me a picture of a little 8 week old fawn coloured bundle of fur.
The meeting place was agreed (motor way services again!) and I set off on the 150 mile journey north.
The price was £150 and so I duly parted with my cash and collected my pup.
I liked the little chap right away and had already decided on the name Sid, on the journey home he just sat quietly on the passenger seat and did not seem phased at all.
When we eventually arrived home and the fuss had subsided, I gave him a dead rabbit to play with which he duly started to rag.
A new adventure had begun.
Now I try to be realistic about my dogs, but only being human, I had great dreams for Sid.
As he grew, the scenes of great triumphs in the hunting field played out in my head, visions of my young charge running over yellow stubble and catching big roebuck resplendent in there bright ginger coat, magnificent Hares run to a stand still and snapped up with the downy coat blowing in the bright sunshine of an East Anglian morning.
Nights out taking great bags of rabbits that would be a chore to carry back to the truck.
Man!!, was I ever in for a hard landing back from cloud cuckoo land!!
Sid proved fairly easy to train and I was happy enough with his standard on sit/stays, down/stays and recall by about 7 months of age.
Every night during the season, he would accompany me and my lurcher bitch on our lamping forays, never getting a run, but hopefully picking up some knowledge.
Now being a mortal man, I had messed up a dog before by being a little over enthusiastic in starting the animal to quarry, in other words, I ran the dog too young on quarry and ground that did the dog no favours.
Everyone is entitled to make mistakes, but only a fool repeats them.
With this in mind, I took things very steady with young Sid, he got nothing, but at 9 months old when out lamping a few rabbits with my older lurcher she dropped a live bunny at my feet.
The unfortunate critter tried to make a dash for freedom, but young Sid broke his stay and snapped up the rabbit within yards.
As we all are, I was over the moon at this small occurrence and the dreams of grandeur started again.
Finally the crops started to come down and September had arrived, Sid was 12 months old.
My good friend Ben also had a dog of 12 months to start and being regular hunting buddies, I made my way round to Ben’s house for a lamping session on some of his permission.
We illuminated the first field and a good few ruby eyes shone back at us, Ben was first to slip his young dog and she duly made a good catch which she returned to her owner.
My turn came and I let slip Sids restraint and watched as he blazed off at top speed down the beam.
On this first run, he ran in much too hard and fast, and overshot badly, the result being that the bunny made the safety of the hedgerow.
We moved on and Bens lurcher missed a couple, Sid made two fine pick ups which he was loathe to return right back to me, not his fault but my failing as a dog trainer.
His final run of the night and he ran the quarry out of the beam and down a gravel track, I turned to Ben and said “He has missed that”, to my surprise he came trotting back out of the darkness with a fat rabbit firmly in his mouth.
I was very happy with the nights performance by my young dog and so it was back for a brew and then home.
The last line of that paragraph is important I think, there’s an old saying “Quit while you are ahead” and this is never more true than where young dogs are concerned.
If your having a bad night and you persist, then it will not only destroy the dogs mind, but it will also destroy your own………believe me, I speak from experience!!
There will always be another night.
Sid proved to be a very hit or miss type dog, he continued with this habit of running in much too hard and missing, never seeming to learn from his mistakes.
This started to cause me a bit of a crisis of confidence, and when that sets in, it’s a hard feeling to shake.
A good pal of Bens (who has since become a good friend of mine as well) very generously invited us north to get our young dogs introduced to the Deer that inhabit his part of the world.
With the introduction of the ban looming, the local farmers had asked our friend to thin out the Deer population which were causing some serious crop damage.
Now our friend, who I shall call FB, owned a very good deerhound type lurcher which he had months earlier mated to another good dog to produce some fine pups.
Ben’s young dog was one of these pups and FB had kept a fine brindle dog pup from the litter.
This young pup was an awesome sight, about 28 inches and packed with muscle, he had taken his first deer at 8 months if my memory is correct and was coming on great guns.
FB showed his dogs plenty of work, a man who truly works his dogs to the max.
Sid did not travel well and when we finally reached FBs home, the dog was not himself at all.
For some reason, the journey had blown the dogs head.
Meeting FB and his lovely family for the first time, I was made to feel very welcome and I instantly felt at home.
That weekend was one of the best I have had, apart from one little incident with FBs new pick up truck, but that’s another story!!
We were right down to business, and as we made our way across some of FBs vast permission we spotted a group of roe munching away on the farmers winter crops.
Seeing as Ben had got me the invite, it was only fair that he got first slip and so, with hearts pumping, we watched as Bens young dog raced off into the distance alongside her mother to tackle her first ever deer.
The pair of dogs singled out a good sized doe and we watched as the age old struggle of predator versus prey unfolded before our eyes.
Any doubts that Ben may have had, evaporated into a massive smile as the two dogs made contact and downed a fine roe doe.
We quickly ran in to dispatch the quarry, but FBs experienced hound had pretty much done the job for us.
I felt genuine happiness for my friend and the look on his face said it all!!
Young Sid was up next and we travelled a little further on, we spotted a roe by a group of trees.
“Do you fancy it?” said FB, bloody hell!!, did I ever!
We slipped Sid and FBs young dog and away they went, but Sid seemed distracted in some way and not focused on the task at all.
Sid seemed to veer off in a different direction, “What’s he doing?” asked FB, and the reality was that I could not tell him!
Once again, the disappointment and doubts started and when later on that day Bens dog took another single handed and Sid once again missed, these doubts lodged like a splinter in my brain.
No worries FB said, I will get your dog on deer before you leave and to my eternal gratitude, he worked tirelessly to get my dog that run.
On the last day of our visit, I was thinking I had missed the boat but FB knows his land and his quarry.
As the chill wind blew on our faces, FB said “they will be out the other side of this wood, are you ready?”
As we rounded the side of the small wood, a group of roe could be seen feeding out at about 200 yards from where we stood.
We instantly let the dogs go and as Sid and FBs pup raced towards this group my heart was truly in my mouth (with a funny feeling in my underpants!!).
The two canine athletes singled out a very big buck, and they coursed this fine big beast around the large field, nearer and nearer the trees they got and, when they disappeared into the trees and out of sight, my heart sunk.
Meanwhile, Ben had slipped his dog on a doe and as we ran over to see if she had made contact, we turned to see FBs dog and Sid with a firm hold on the big roe buck.
To say I was happy was an understatement, I was delirious.
We quickly dispatched the buck and FB must have been sick of hearing me say thank you on the way home.
The journey home didn’t seem bad at all after our excellent few days away.
Once back home, things quickly returned to normal and Sid continued to be hit and miss.
When I got a call from the farmer who owns some of my permission asking me to go and sort some rabbit problems, he ended the call with “ and get rid of those bloody deer if you see any”
First field out of the truck and there was a group of Fallow deer doing some serious damage to the farmer’s crops, in my excitement I slipped Sid long before I had to.
I have found deer can be very loath to run (under certain circumstances) and that you should hold off of slipping your dog until the last possible moment.
This was true in areas where deer where not routinely hunted with a dog.
Sid ran at this group of feeding cervines, but they had already spotted him and broke in all directions, the young dog did not know what beast to single out and ran out of sight in pursuit of a couple of beasts.
When he came trotting back a few minutes later, once again, disappointment was my companion.
We made our way round, taking a few odd rabbits as we went and on the last field to be walked, I spotted a small group of roe, I held off slipping as this unknowing group eyed my approach with a puzzled look.
As they turned to move away, I let go of my young dog and, once again, I could see he was having problems deciding on a target.
In the confusion, a young doe had panicked and stood rooted to the spot.
I simply stood still and waited for Sid to return, as he came trotting back around the corner of the hedgerow, he very nearly ran straight into this doe.
The doe sidestepped him neatly and made off at a rate of knots with young Sid in hot pursuit.
I gave chase and as I rounded the corner into the next field, the dog and his quarry were nowhere to be seen.
I gave a couple of calls, but still no dog, then that unmistakable sound of a downed roe started up.
I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me and to my horror, I saw that the dog had fast hold of this critter in a back garden!!
Making as much noise as a troop of guardsmen, I crashed through the trees and dispatched the quarry; I could not have been more than 50 feet from this houses kitchen window.
All the while keeping one eye on the house, I struggled back through the dense hedge dragging this heavy beast with me.
Once out of site of the house, I collapsed in a wheezing heap on the floor, patting the dog and muttering “good lad” between gulps of breath.
Once again, I thought a bridge had been crossed with regards to my young dogs hunting career.
Once again, I was to be proved wrong!
The telephone rung and I heard Ben’s familiar voice calling me rude names down the phone.
Once the torrent of abuse that passes for Bens greeting had passed, he said that we were to hunt some permission that a friend of ours has.
We were also to meet up with a group of lads who were travelling down from the darkest north.
We met up in a car park and I was introduced to the lads, some good lads from Manchester and Leonard who had brought along his funny looking mate Shaggy.
The craic was fierce and I liked the lads right away, my type of people.
Our friend had been asked by the landowner to try to thin out the increasing deer population as they were causing havoc with his crops.
Our small team set off and it was agreed that a couple of lads would beat through the wood, one of the beaters being our host, who generously gave up the chance to work his dog in order to beat for us.
Leonard was the first to score with a nicely built dog that he was working for a friend that day.
From my allotted position at a corner of the wood, I watched as a young Muntjac trotted stealthily from the wood heading right at Leonard.
Leonard waited for this tasty little deer to come on towards him and when the deer was level with him, I saw the dog accelerate away.
The pair of foes made the edge of the wood, but the alarming sound of the downed munty told me that Leonard’s dog had done its job.
We all then took up new positions with some of the lads in a tree line opposite a small wood.
I was positioned on the flank, out of sight of the lads behind a tall hedgerow.
I heard the beaters working through the wood and by the sound of things, the lads out the far side were having some fantastic sport.
I cursed my bad luck at getting the short straw with regards to my position outside the wood.
Just then, a subtle movement caught my eye and I spotted a fallow doe creeping ever so slowly towards my side of the wood.
I froze and watched, on came the beast and by this time the dog had scented the deer and was trying to gyrate out of my firm grip.
I couple of short tugs on his collar had him steady again as the Fallow doe reached the edge of the wood and the point of no return.
No more than 15 yards away, this doe stood making up her mind weather to break or not. I hardly dared to breathe.
Then she broke, and I let go of my dog.
He was on the tail of this tasty critter right away, but for some reason, failed to connect quickly, they broke through the hedgerow right in front of the other lads and I ran after them.
As I came through the hedge, I shouted to Ben to see which way the dog and its target had gone.
He signalled that they had made for a housing estate; once again I felt a twinge of disappointment that my hound had not made contact quickly.
I my opinion, he should have made almost instant contact and the feeling that he was not really up for the job started to creep into me.
After a good long while, Sid returned and the days proceeding came to an end.
A good day on which Bens young dog had proved what an exceptional creature she was with two tasty muntjac to her credit.
As you can gather, I had this nagging feeling that my young hopeful, this well built dog in the prime of his youth, who I had fed the best food, put in the hours for and generally pinned all my hunting hope upon, was just not up to the grade.
When you get this feeling, it is crushing and you find it hard to think of much else.
You don’t enjoy your hunting as much because all you can focus on is the perceived faults of your pup.
I did the only sensible thing a dog lad can do……….I sat back and had a good think!
Some story’s would have ended there with a gunshot and in some cases that may be the right thing to do, but I had put a lot on this dog and didn’t want to give up on him so easily.
I talked about it endlessly with lads whose opinion I respect, not plastic hardmen who wont give a dog a chance, but genuine lads who know dogs and know when to do the right thing.
They were no doubt sick of me bleating on about my dog, but I thank them for their patience…….it meant a lot to me and was a massive help.
I also studied the dog’s general behaviour and noticed that he was still very puppyish in so many ways.
The conclusions I reached will, hopefully, help someone who is experiencing similar problems or feeling that it would be just easier to move a loyal hound on.
The first lesson I learned was that I had placed too much expectation on a young 1st season dog who was essentially still just a pup.
He still saw the world through playful puppy eyes and had not yet developed the bit of steel or aggression that can be present in an adult, experienced dog.
The second lesson was that I compared him to all around him and forgot the old adage of “every dog is different”, and they are.
I took out my own frustrations on the dog to my shame, and again, this must have set him back months.
I started to focus on all his faults instead of keeping a realistic and positive mental attitude.
In short, I was the problem, not the dog.
Of course all dogs have their part to play in the equation, and if they are not up to scratch then there is nothing anyone can do, but and it’s a big BUT……..I think to many will quickly right a dog off but fail to take a good hard look at themselves.
The lesson of this dogs 1st season is possibly this, think your way around your dog rather that just going through the motions and expecting the dog to do great things, its too easy to blame a dog but no one will think worse of you for standing up and saying “I have learned a lesson”.
No one knows it all and it’s a never ending learning process which is just what makes this great and noble love of working dogs so great.
As the man said “The best laid plans of mice and men……” and all that.
Good Hunting.
Cockney M
Anon