Several days spent in a tree stand had yielded some action and some frustration and an empty freezer to date. But as I sat the evening of November 11, 2015, strapped to an ash tree that felt more like an amusement park ride than a perch for deer hunting, in the high winds, my mind started to drift to my pup Biggs.
I do not consider myself a good trainer or even an average trainer, but I am lucky enough to have access to people that are good trainers and give me great advice. So when the opportunity arose to add a yellow pup to the family, from top notch blood lines, and train a pup again, I thought no problem, the first one was tough, but was a great dawg. Unfortunately for Biggs and for me, I compared the new pup to the old veteran maggie dawg that had passed to the next hunt, and though Biggs was a smart (too smart) pup, and our training progressed amazingly fast (too fast), I ran into a little glitch in the wiring...some how I had taught my retriever to avoid completing retrieves. He would charge out, pick up anything, and then he was content to just keep it. At first I was ready to give up and just train him to find sheds, while dragging a check cord...and he excelled, finding four sheds in his first season as a puppy. But I wanted more, I wanted a dual purpose pup, and I wanted him to retrieve...like a retriever.
I spent 8 weeks in hold and force fetch training with him, and he got worse, 4 weeks later, I went completely back through hold and force fetch again. I tried two of every object, and it would work once or twice, I tried no retrieves for weeks at a time, and he would be more enthusiastic about charging out to get whatever was thrown...to keep it for himself.
Pro trainers told me force fetch him, teach him place command and use a stand and he will come to it with the bumper... We worked place command on a tree stand, I could send him on a back/over or straight in front from a remote location to place and he would go jump on his stand and sit...do the same thing with a bumper in his mouth and he would ignore me. The dog knew his overs, whistle sit, non verbal sit and non verbal recall, he would come to me anytime I called...unless he had something in his mouth. You get the idea, my frustration level was immense and my almost daily texts to my training mentor Carl led to some laughs (mostly for him) and constant encouragement. Getting back to the maggie dawg, my comparison led to my frustration, and if it wasn't for Carl, Mr. Biggs would be classified as a yard dog by now.
The biggest frustration of all is the potential this pup showed. He was doing 150 yard memory lines at 6 months old, he found a sailed goose in his only waterfowl action from several hundred yards away and tracked it down by scent in a stubble field, but I had to use a check cord to get the goose back. That frustration led to me having little to no motivation to take him hunting this year.
So fast forward to now, for weeks on end, I trained him like a normal retriever, but kept a 40 foot check cord on him at all times, even as reports come in of ducks being killed, I stay in the yard or at the neighbors and continue training, I don't trust him, I don't trust him. But earlier in the week, we changed venues to a farm pond he hadn't seen for months and he made 2 very nice retrieves in heavy cover and ran them all the way back to me, yes it was a bit sloppy, and he even spit the bumper to sit at heel and get ready for the next retrieve...but he came to my general area.
Back to the rock and rolling tree stand, and a check of the the next day's weather reveals 40 mph winds, so I decide to give the pup a shot...that he deserves my attention and a chance (to fail). A Thursday hunt on public ground should yield small groups of hunters and good odds of getting a spot, since the reports have been dismal on ducks in the area...I thought, even if I could just get one, it would be cool. Even while swaying in that tree, I was on my phone looking for an unsuspecting individual to make the mile plus hike into the swamp with me and eventually talked an acquaintance, now friend Tim into going on his first adventure into what my dad aptly named...the trail of tears.
So it was set, the deer were safe for a day and in the middle of the night we were off for step one of the adventure. The draw. Just before the draw I joked that I should have put Tim's name on first as he would have better luck, but as luck would have it, we were drawn first, and were given the right of carrying all our gear through the timber in the dark to the swamp. 45 minutes later, covered in sweat, and setting decoys, and Biggs begins to bark in the darkness, and I thought to myself...I made a mistake! Poor Tim is probably thinking what the heck did I get myself into.
Birds were few and far between, as we only saw a few in the pre-shooting hours of darkness that are typically so magical in the duck marsh, but as shooting time hit, and the cloudy skies kept things dark, Tim whispered that a mallard drake had landed to his left just at the edge of range. The bird actually swam in towards us and finally jumped up giving Tim a shot, he missed on the first chance but recovered nicely with a second shot killing the bird dead. Biggs did not see the bird at all, but he acted excited so I hooked him to his check cord and sent him. He charged out after the bird, in a tough situation for any dog, wind blowing scent straight away and the duck drifting away. He went to the edge of the weed line and turned around. Hunting hard, I went to help and brought him to heel, with just a little tug to get his attention, I gave him a line and this time he locked onto the bird. Biggs has had pigeons, 1 dove, and a goose, but at this point had never picked up anything in the water besides a bumper and dummie duck. I watched and expected the worst but he grabbed the duck like he had done it a 100 times and turned right back to us. I met him in the water, and just like that Biggs had his first mallard drake and first ever duck.
Despite the early morning barking antics, Biggs was well behaved and most importantly...still when we were calling and working the few birds we saw.
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| Biggs on watch |
The action was slow but steady, and soon after our second duck the remaining groups left the area we were in and we had the only decoys out which proved beneficial in the long run. At 8:45 a group of woodies buzzed us and I was able to drop one that fell 20 yards off the dogs right side, he saw the entire thing and charged after it. The bird dove when he got close, and he immediately started putting his face in the water looking for it! The bird popped up dead to his side but he was still looking under water. I got his attention and gave him an "over" hand signal and he took it right to the bird, picking it up, and heading back to me. He again dropped the bird short, so I made him pick it back up and bring it to me after grabbing the check cord just to be sure.
I was elated by this time, 3 retrieves and the pup (18 months old but a pup by experience standards), had done better than I expected. The action wasn't over as we worked another single that got funky on us and got behind us and got away, me missing the only shot, then we worked a small bunch of mallards and I was able to fold one above us splashing down to our left. Biggs charged out and the bird dove and popped up right up against his butt, he again dug in the water looking for the bird, then saw the duck right next to him, he sniffed it and it flapped, and it threw him for a loop, he basically ignored it and started looking in the water again, before finally grabbing it for a second and letting go. This was the first really lively bird he had been around and it messed with him a little bit, so I made him pick it up and hold as we walked back to our hide.
The final bird of the day was another single drake mallard, locking up and hooking behind us before shaving the tops off the trees and coming in right over our backs, Tim put the hurting on the bird as I finished him to the water. The bird still had its head up so I shot it again...just to avoid another cripple...I sent Biggs and he seemed to be having trouble so I walked out...and the bird was no where to be found. Finally Tim spotted the drake swimming away down wind of us. I called Biggs off of the scent and we headed towards the bird as Tim moved in and finished it off. On this bird Biggs grabbed it out of the cover and turned right to us. He swam right by us and as I reached down, he did try and avoid me slightly but overall, I was elated with his work. He held this bird like he was supposed to. I could not ask for a better "training session" than that hunt. On the long walk out, I told Tim, I would remember this one as long as I had a memory. A few "first year" mistakes but he might just make a duck dawg after all.
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| Biggs after the hunt |
