So Storm and I went pheasant shooting this weekend!

We went up to a game farm with friends, who taught us all about upland
hunting. Storm was a little baffled at first, but transferred our "hunt
'em up" game from bumpers to birds very quickly. She was shocked when
the first bird she flushed flew up and was shot - but went out to pick
it up. The bird, crippled, pecked her, and triggered Storm's default
response to any new situation:

"What the hell was THAT?!"

Storm took off down the field for 75 yards before I could bring her
back. We dispatched the bird and threw it for Storm, praising, praising
when she went back to pick it up and deliver it. At this point, I saw
lots of training paying off, big time. She was steady to wing and shot
and returned a bird that she wasn't thrilled with, because she knew the
drill.

The second bird, however, was *magic*. She put the bird up, sat at the
shot, and watched the bird hit the ground, dead as a turnip. As she
came back with it, I saw the fire lit in her eyes. For the first time,
she *got* it. She *got it* and wanted more birds, birds, birds. The
academic game of advanced training work had just clicked together into
real world good-times-for-dogs, and she *got* it.

She hunted for bird no. 3 with a new energy and fire in her belly. When
it went up, we fired and missed. I swear I could see Storm roll her
eyes at me when she looked back.

Our final bird was a delight for everyone but the bird: another dog
found and flushed the bird, but then the dog broke (ran when it should
have been sitting still out of the way), so its handler only got off one
disorganized shot. The bird went down crippled and ran. Storm and the
other dog started working the tall grass where the bird was hiding, and
Storm found the bird, chased it down, and brought it back flapping.

This is what FCRs are bred to do. I had the privilege of watching 100
years of genes kick in over a long day in the field.

Much of our retriever training is spent working with prey drive,
tempering it with strict obedience. I watched my mild-mannered, frankly
rather milquetoast dog kick into a level of high drive and excitement
that I think will put a very keen edge on any future work that involves
real birds. The final chase, when she tracked and trapped the running,
flapping pheasant, had her incredibly keyed up. I can't imagine
anything much more reinforcing for a retriever than that.

Yesterday, Storm spent the day looking like this:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/arfenarf/1168803/

--
Kate, with a new feather in her cap and soliciting recipes for pheasant
and Storm the Flat Retriever

....and apologies - I posted to the wrong group.
--
Kate
and Storm the FCR

Oh, but it was fun to hear about Storm's hunting...I like the caption on
your picture!
Darby

KWBrown wrote:

So Storm and I went pheasant shooting this weekend!

We went up to a game farm with friends, who taught us all about upland
hunting. Storm was a little baffled at first, but transferred our "hunt
'em up" game from bumpers to birds very quickly. She was shocked when
the first bird she flushed flew up and was shot - but went out to pick
it up. The bird, crippled, pecked her, and triggered Storm's default
response to any new situation:

"What the hell was THAT?!"

Storm took off down the field for 75 yards before I could bring her
back. We dispatched the bird and threw it for Storm, praising, praising
when she went back to pick it up and deliver it. At this point, I saw
lots of training paying off, big time. She was steady to wing and shot
and returned a bird that she wasn't thrilled with, because she knew the
drill.

The second bird, however, was *magic*. She put the bird up, sat at the
shot, and watched the bird hit the ground, dead as a turnip. As she
came back with it, I saw the fire lit in her eyes. For the first time,
she *got* it. She *got it* and wanted more birds, birds, birds. The
academic game of advanced training work had just clicked together into
real world good-times-for-dogs, and she *got* it.

She hunted for bird no. 3 with a new energy and fire in her belly. When
it went up, we fired and missed. I swear I could see Storm roll her
eyes at me when she looked back.

Our final bird was a delight for everyone but the bird: another dog
found and flushed the bird, but then the dog broke (ran when it should
have been sitting still out of the way), so its handler only got off one
disorganized shot. The bird went down crippled and ran. Storm and the
other dog started working the tall grass where the bird was hiding, and
Storm found the bird, chased it down, and brought it back flapping.

This is what FCRs are bred to do. I had the privilege of watching 100
years of genes kick in over a long day in the field.

Much of our retriever training is spent working with prey drive,
tempering it with strict obedience. I watched my mild-mannered, frankly
rather milquetoast dog kick into a level of high drive and excitement
that I think will put a very keen edge on any future work that involves
real birds. The final chase, when she tracked and trapped the running,
flapping pheasant, had her incredibly keyed up. I can't imagine
anything much more reinforcing for a retriever than that.

Yesterday, Storm spent the day looking like this:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/arfenarf/1168803/

--
Kate, with a new feather in her cap and soliciting recipes for pheasant
and Storm the Flat Retriever