Skylined on a ridge, my young wirehair quivered as chukars bounced like pool balls on the break in a game of eight-ball. I huffed uphill alongside my buddy until his Lab figured out our destination, blew past my wirehair and um, dispersed the covey with prejudice. Birds up, my dog chasing, another busted flush. I’ve gotta train myself better, I vowed.

Yeah, “operator error” is a common affliction in the uplands, and it’s not just missed shots or wrong turns. When bringing on a young dog, maybe we should be wearing the e-collar when we go hunting. We train hard during the off-season, anticipating Opening Day like a kid counts days to Christmas, only to see it devolve in a chaos of yelling and chasing. What the heck happened to the idyllic symphony of man and dog working as one?

And don’t get me started on the “let birds train the dog” philosophy. It helps, to be sure. But for a dog to function at his peak, there’s gotta be some human intervention, and much of that can take place in the field, on wild birds, during hunting season. With that chukar-country train wreck as inspiration, I’ve since trained myself a little better to anticipate every pitfall, each scenario where a young dog’s hunt might go off the rails.

Often that helps us turn a faux pas into a learning moment. That first season afield is a time for the human to impose a modicum of self-control … on both hunters. All winter, spring and summer we try to be consistent in our expectations: how we deliver commands, how we generate compliance. Then we drop the tailgate on pup’s first hunt and cross our fingers. Instead, couldn’t a dog’s first season could be an extended “training camp,” instilling similar expectations and teaching the same skills as in the yard? It will cost you shots and birds in the bag, but next season, next year, or maybe even later that same day, you’ll be glad you trained more and hunted less.

Here are lessons I’ve learned the hard way, so you don’t have to. Maybe some will help you and your dog continue learning long after the opener.

The End Goal

First, remember why we hunt: to watch our dogs work. A long drive, all that spendy gear, high-priced ammo and a year’s-worth of dog food are hard to justify if you come home empty-handed that first season. But a year or two later, your relationship with your dog will be more satisfying and your game bag will be heavier. So start by training yourself to be a teacher, even in the field.

Go into every hunt with the goal of reinforcing skills your dog is learning. Look at the field as an extension of your training yard, and another chance to connect with your hunting partner. I’ll never forget one crisp morning in a steep sage-brushed canyon. I watched, open-mouthed, from the bottom of Mother Nature’s amphitheater as my dog ran flat out in a beautiful arc from slope to slope like a pronghorn. It was awe-inspiring. But even the more mundane performance is worth a look, and possibly a teaching moment. Dig into your own memory bank of awe-inspiring dog performances, remember your goal and strive for excellence from your young dog by putting the shotgun down and helping him learn early in his career.

Here’s one example from last chukar season. We were side-hilling a muddy slope toward Tom’s wirehair, Ruby, on point. My dog was, well, let’s just say off his game. So when we figured out what Ruby was doing, I put my dog Flick on a lead and heeled him into a back. Tom took the killing shot while I stepped on Flick’s lead first, mounted my shotgun second, finally missing in grand style. Not pretty, but a pretty good learning opportunity.

We all talk a good game but do we walk our talk? Dogs learn constantly. They watch, listen, gauge our actions and reactions. That instinct isn’t checked at the tailgate. If you let him get away with murder in the field then expect compliance in the yard, someone’s going to be disappointed. Maybe two someones.

Okay, enough philosophy. Let’s get practical about ways to train during a hunt.

Go Solo

Hunt alone, just you and your dog. No extraneous human or canine distractions, stolen points and battles for a retrieve. There’s much less pressure for you to kill a bird, instead handling your young charge: pattern, steadiness, praise, and some day, perfection (however you define that). If you must have human partners, separate and agree on a meeting time and place later in the day. The added benefit is another lesson: your young dog grows into a bold, inquisitive, independent hunter rather than a follower.

Hold Fire

Don’t shoot. When it’s time to pop a cap, let someone else handle the gunning chores. Again, your hands—and head—are free of the number-one distraction. And if your buddy is doing the shooting, set some ground rules. Will he shoot wild flushes? What is acceptable once the dog points? Who flushes the bird? When and how? How steady does a dog have to be to merit a shot? When do we allow a retrieve and to whom?

Speak Up

It’s not a field trial, so go ahead and talk to your dog. The commands, praise and correction used in the yard can keep a tour-de-force from cratering. Early in his career, a dog needs encouragement and feedback. Lots of it. Who else is going to give it to him? In his mind, the only difference between that bobwhite and a training pigeon is the locale. Help him become incredible by offering direction, encouragement and enforcing compliance. But keep your finger off the red button on that e-collar control. Distractions, misunderstanding, impaired hearing from wind or topography may be to blame for non-compliance and associating birds with mis-applied stimulation is risky.

Want to start a long post-hunt conversation at the tavern? Praise your young dog when he points, tell him “whoa” if you’re training that way, stroke and steady him, half-hitch, touch his flank, whatever. You’d do it in the yard, so why not in the field? I’ll buy the next round—it’s gonna be a long night.

Intro Guns Sooner

I once shamed a guy into selling me his young wirehair for a dollar. She’d spent the better part of the season in a 6x10 kennel because she was “gun shy,” and was destined to a short, miserable life as captive to human stupidity. What that bum wouldn’t admit was he’d caused it. That beautiful dog’s introduction to gunfire was four guys with semi-automatics on a preserve rooster … a grand total of eight misses. By the end of that barrage, the dog was hiding under a nearby truck, trembling. Don’t be that guy. Ensure your dog is thoroughly introduced to gunfire before you hunt him. If there’s any doubt, forego shots while hunting and work on everything else.

Use Your Gear

Training tools can be your best friend in the field. A dog is often cued into compliance by physical objects he recognizes, from a leash to a check cord to e-collar. Even a tie-out stake and kennel box are helpful. A good friend won’t bat an eye if you clip a short check cord to your young dog’s collar, or leash him up on point. Next season, that buddy will marvel at your pup’s progress, and probably take credit for some of it, too. While still in the yard, explore the entire repertoire of your e-collar: tone, beep, vibrate all might be valuable signals for verbal commands. Overlay talk and touch in the yard, then separately, and you’ve got another layer of control, more stealthy in the presence of hinky late-season sharpies.

Warm Up

Graying muzzle or gangly legs, all dogs could use a reminder of who’s in charge and what the expectations are in the field. My dogs get a quick brush-up first thing out of the crate: a walk at heel, recall or two, even a short bumper throw-retrieve. It calms and focuses a dog, and the stage is now set: this is work, not play. And there’s no rule against a mid-hunt refresher course, either.

Next week at home, focus your training on the weak spots from your last hunt. What’s that? Train during hunting season? Absolutely. What else you gonna do all week, chores?

Short Hunts for Pup

Finally, a plea: Young dogs will hunt their hearts out but they shouldn’t. Most of this has been about managing a young dog’s mind, but managing his body is crucial. His joints’ growth plates are not fully formed, and impact from long runs and jumps will adversely affect them. Those injuries could become permanent and debilitating. A half-hour here, another later in the day during that first season, is plenty.

Okay, that’s a lot of marching orders and you are there to have fun, after all. There comes a time when you cut a pup loose and “let the birds teach him” just a little bit. Your good friends won’t judge, and you know where you both are in your evolution. Besides, everybody needs a break.