Field Trialing has its roots firmly planted in the tradition of hunting, and the desire for hunters and breeders to find the best dog. However, throughout history, trialing has certainly taken on a level of “dog games” and has slightly strayed away from its hunting background. Don’t get me wrong, I have no issue with this, but due to this fact, if you want to be a successful trialer, then that means training your dog for the specific game.
This is very similar to what has happened with various testing systems such as NAVHDA or the JGHV . I’ve seen some dogs excel in liberated bird competitions, receiving a perfect score and Prize I title, because their astute handlers spent all their time focused on preparing for the situations their dogs would be tested in––while leaving wild bird experience underdeveloped.
These training differences are often on a spectrum versus a cut-and-dried difference in training technique. At the end of the day, the goal of a pointing dog—whether in a trial or a hunting situation—is to find the bird and allow the handler to make a flushing attempt.
Field Trial dogs are required to stand steady through the entire flushing process. (Photo courtesy of Ben Brettingen) Differences in Steadiness One of the largest differences in training a gun dog vs trial dog is steadiness . There will certainly be some folks reading this that say, “My hunting dog is dead broke.” While this may be the case for you, for 99 percent of dogs, I don’t believe this to be true. My definition of broke is a dog that will stand on point until the handler locates them—whether that takes five minutes or thirty. Once the handler arrives, the dog is expected to remain rock solid, not moving a foot, as the handler steps in front to flush. When the bird goes up and the gun goes off, the dog should do nothing more than twitch.
That level of steadiness is a prerequisite to a champion bird dog. In a high-stakes trial, something as small as a dog shifting its front feet to mark the flight of a bird can mean the difference between a title and going home empty-handed. The same applies to backing—a trial dog is expected to stop immediately upon seeing another dog on point. That doesn’t mean creeping up from 50 yards to 20 before stopping; it means freezing the moment they spot their bracemate.
In a hunting dog, I can guarantee you that I’d shoot a lot of birds with a dog that would only be steady for three minutes, one that self-releases at the flush, or one that gets closer before stopping for a bracemate. And there’s nothing wrong with that for a gun dog, but that’s the difference between training for trialing versus hunting. In the case of a hunting dog, its efficacy is judged on how many birds end up in its handler’s bag or simply how pleasurable it is to experience the hunt. In a trial, the goal is to get a piece of it...winning. I don’t know many trialers who don’t want to win, in the same sense that I don’t know many hunters who want to go home empty handed.
Then, there are certain technical aspects of field trial training that, while rooted in hunting, can be quite stringent. One that comes to mind is relocation. In a trial, if your dog goes on point and you step in to flush but can’t produce the bird, you’re allowed to send the dog to relocate. However, the dog must not self-relocate, under any circumstance, after flushing has begun. The challenge here is that the dog may have scented the bird from a long distance, or the bird is already running. At this point, the dog needs to lock it down or risk a non-productive point, which is undesirable—especially in a competitive stake.
While any premature movement is unacceptable in a field trial, in a hunting scenario, as long as the bird ends up in the bag, a bit of movement or a self-initiated relocation is generally no harm, no foul.
It comes down to squeezing the last 5 percent out of obedience, as it pertains to steadiness. Just like many things in life, gaining those last incremental percentage points takes a tremendous amount of time and effort, making it an important part of the trial “game” but not necessarily required for success while hunting.
Hunting dogs and field trial dogs are handled differently, specifically in how loud the handler is during the run. (Photo courtesy of Ben Brettingen) Differences in Handling Tial Dogs and Hunting Dogs As a trialer, and an avid hunter, this is one area I catch a lot of flak from my non-trialing partners while in the field. If you aren’t familiar with “singing to a dog,” it’s verbally communicating to the dog while it’s out of eyesight in order to give it your location. However, there’s much more than meets the ear, when it comes to singing. This intricate dance might sound like senseless yelling, but there’s a method to the madness. When singing, the tone is often a drawn-out word, string of words, or just a sound. Mine, for example, is “ehhhhh...ohhhhhhh.” With a calm, drawn out delivery, I’m communicating, “all is good, I’m right here, keep doing your thing.” When I drop the ohhh, and the ehh becomes more staccato, it means “you’re going the wrong direction or getting behind.” A quick “eh, oh, eh, oh, oh” means “let’s kick it into gear,” similar to a long trill on a whistle. When the tone becomes loud and more menacing, that means “you’re getting too far out, rein it in.”
You’re probably thinking, “Dude, why don’t you use an e-collar?” Well, here’s the kicker, in a field trial, the dog has a track-only collar for safety, and the only communication method you have is visual or auditory. Singing is especially important for an all-age dog, whose goal is to fly as close to the sun as possible without their wings melting, and a cover dog in the woods, unable to take visual cues due to the dense cover. I see hunters get mad at their dogs in the grouse woods when the dog loses the location of their handler and out comes the e-collar transmitter. If you sit there silent, and the dog has no idea where you are, it doesn’t matter how hard you tone or stim them, the dog can’t find you.
The nuance of singing doesn’t need to be honed and refined for a hunting dog, as they are likely working closer to the handler, and it's significantly easier to use the combination of GPS and light momentary or continuous stimulation with an e-collar to locate the dog. However, it can be helpful to develop.
Training a dog to respond to singing is pretty simple. After the dog has an e-collar foundation, you can overlay the command with stimulation, and the dog will eventually correlate the two.
However, in many situations, I realize that singing can be detrimental to the goal of shooting birds, such as late-season roosters. You also have to understand that the nature of how a field trial dog might be trained doesn’t align with certain scenarios and situations. That’s perfectly fine! Not every dog needs to be able to do every job.
Hunting dogs tend to hunt closer than field trial dogs so hunters can be quicker getting to them when they are on point. (Photo courtesy of Ben Brettingen) Range and Independence This is a point of contention for a lot of hunters that are misinformed about field trials, and the goals of what certain dogs are bred to do. At the farthest extreme, All-Age dogs are bred and trained to cover vast amounts of ground, often stretching 600 plus yards ahead of the handler. These dogs are expected to run with minimal interference, seeking out objectives independently, and making their own decisions about where birds are likely to be found. Because of this, handlers typically ride horseback, using scouts to help locate and redirect the dog when necessary. Despite this range, All-Age dogs should hold a forward pattern and hunt for objectives rather than the handler.
Shooting Dogs, by contrast, strike a balance between range and responsiveness. While they still run big—anywhere from 300 to 600 yards—they are expected to stay in a more controlled pattern and show consistent awareness of their handler. These dogs should adjust their course when given direction but still hunt assertively without needing constant handling. A well-trained Shooting Dog keeps a forward pattern and remains productive but generally relies less on a scout than an all-age dog.
Then there are hunting dogs, which are trained for real-world, boots-on-the-ground hunting. They typically work closer, ensuring more frequent contact with the hunter. The focus isn’t on running big or covering massive amounts of ground—it’s on working efficiently, finding birds, and staying within gun range. Hunting dogs check in frequently and adjust their movement based on their handler’s position, making teamwork the priority.
The biggest implication for range and training is developing a deeper level of trust. A dog that has more independence, and often finds itself out of eyesight, is expected to do its job without micro-management.
Range is a product of both nature and nurture. When training for range, the saying, “You can pull in a rope, but you can’t push it out,” inevitably comes up—and it holds true. If you want a dog to run big, you have to let it run big without suppressing its natural drive.
For many hunters, this is where the challenge lies. They don’t fully trust their dog to stay connected, hold point, or find its way back. As a result, the e-collar comes out, discouraging the dog from stretching out. Over time, many dogs learn that running big isn’t what’s expected of them.
Of course, genetics plays a role too. A '69 Mustang Mach 1 is built for speed, while a 1.0-liter Geo Metro is not—they're just inherently different machines. The same applies to bird dogs. All-Age dogs are selected and bred to cover ground, while others are specifically bred to be tight-working foot hunters.
The goal of field trialing is winning, while the goal of hunting is putting birds in the bag. (Photo courtesy of Ben Brettingen) Diferences in Form and Function The debate between form and function is an age-old one, and it certainly won’t be settled here. But when it comes to field trials, the preferred style of a dog is fascinating—especially when you compare it to hunting dogs or European trial standards.
In Europe, the ideal stance for a pointer is a flat tail, while a setter is expected to crouch in a classic “set.” In contrast, modern American field trial standards favor a high head and high tail—a stance that conveys intensity and class. One perceived “fault” in a trial dog is a sickle tail, where the tail curves or arches back toward the dog’s back rather than standing straight. This trait is largely genetic and can’t be trained out, though some handlers try to refine a dog’s stance through early conditioning.
If you’ve ever seen a field trial placement photo, you’ll notice that the winning dogs are often stacked up—handlers holding their heads and tails high for the picture. This is largely just for show, and while genetic, it can be crafted. Owners gently stroke the tail upwards to build muscle memory, helping to create that polished, upright look. On the flip side, a dog that is overworked or over pressured on birds can lose intensity, resulting in a deflated stance.
For a hunting dog, none of this really matters—other than personal preference. If you like how your dog looks, that’s all that counts. Heck, I wouldn’t care if my dog stood on its back legs with one paw pointing toward the birds. Outside of the argument that a high head and tail make the dog easier to see, style isn’t a huge factor in the field.
Gait and Endurance Another aspect of field trial evaluation—though a smaller part—is gait.
A trial dog needs to run at full speed for anywhere from one to three hours, covering a massive amount of ground. While a dog in peak physical condition might be able to compensate for poor structure, the reality is that longevity suffers when a dog isn’t built for efficient movement. Judges evaluate a dog’s gait, looking for a smooth, effortless stride. A choppy or inefficient gait can lead to early fatigue, costing the dog valuable movement in a competitive stake.
This carries over into hunting dogs as well—a smooth-moving, efficient dog is just as valuable in the field as it is in a trial. A well-built dog will simply cover more ground, hunt longer, and recover faster than one that fights its own movement. However, if your hunting dog slows down a couple of hours in, while not ideal, it’s not a deal- breaker—you’ll still be able to shoot plenty of birds. Unlike in a field trial, where endurance and efficiency are critical to success, a hunting dog’s effectiveness is measured by its ability to find birds and work within gun range.
The Need for Field Trial Dogs and Hunting Dogs The divide between trial dogs and hunting dogs isn’t about right or wrong—it’s about purpose. Field trials exist to push dogs to their absolute peak performance, rewarding those who meet an elite level of steadiness, race, and composure. Hunting, on the other hand, is about practicality and efficiency—a dog that hunts well, finds birds, and works in sync with its owner.
The training techniques for both exist on a spectrum, with some overlap, but the key differences lie in steadiness, range, and handling style. Field trialers are playing for a win—hunters are playing for a full game bag and a memorable day in the field. Both are equally challenging, both require incredible dedication, and both can make for some damn fine bird dogs.
