New year, new column. Last year, I focused on different trainers across the country, their methods and what I learned from them. This year, I wanted to dive headfirst into myself as a trainer, and my “dyed-in-the-wool” mentality, as some would call it.
I should explain, the reason I wanted to write this column is because I’m going through something I think a lot of readers can relate with today when it comes to gun dog training methods. I won’t argue that the idea “easier = better” works in some situations, but I’ve more recently come to realize that equation is not true across the board.
Innovation and modernization are a reality, but there still can and should be a time, place, and reason for “the way we used to” do things. Everyone knows there are a lot of ways to train a dog, and I don’t keep it a secret that my style of training is considered to be different than most of what you’ll hear, see, or read about these days. My feelings on the subject are strong, and I am sincerely devoted to those beliefs. That said, I give you my word that my objective with the coming year’s column is not to preach or offend, but instead to divvy up and share what works well for me, and why.
The Traditional Christmas Following traditional methods of hunting and training can be very fulfilling. (Photo courtesy of Jeremy Moore) When I was six years old, something happened on Christmas morning that shaped me as a hunter, long before I ever hunted. My parents hid it behind the door. What I found was everything I’d wanted. A link between toys and the real thing. Still today, I remember it clearly. It was red, measured 49-inches long unstrung, and came with a dozen blue and white crested poplar arrows, steel shod and fletched with turkey feathers.
My grandpas and dad were the only “influencers” I knew of back then. My Grandpa was one of the few bowhunters to kill a deer during the 1947 Wisconsin archery season, and I still have the old Ben Pearson long bow he used to do it. Dad hunted with a recurve and a quiver full of wooden arrows. Growing up, all I wanted was to be like them. With limited mentoring in those days, my dad told me, “Don’t shoot anyone” before leaving the confines of our yard with my bow. There were no batteries or charging needed,no uploading, no software, and no studying or preparation. Just freedom, to explore and become a bowhunter.
Like most things new, it started out awkwardly. To simply get an arrow knocked to full draw and released was difficult. But with practice it started feeling comfortable, and soon I no longer had to think about those steps. My arrows learned to find their mark by shooting paper targets tacked to bales of hay. I mastered how to get within range of game by still hunting chipmunks on mountains of high piled firewood. That was during more simple times.
Faster or Easier is not Always Better When I got that little, red long bow, bowhunting was amidst rapid change. Advent of the first compound bow was in 1966, and it had cams round as half dollars and not much bigger in size. Those early models were boorishly designed, but the new technology gave bowhunters a more compact and faster tool, making it easier to shoot significantly longer distances with greater accuracy.
About that same time, training hunting dogs saw the onset of its own revolution with the inception of remote training collars. They made it easier for trainers to make quicker corrections, at greater distances. Many believed they afforded more control of their animals and the ability to accomplish things faster. They too were relatively crude, but advancements in design and function soon followed. By the mid 1980’s, most gun dogs were being trained with the collar, and the majority of bowhunters had moved to shooting “wheel bows.”
Technology is Changing Hunting Eventually Dad switched to a compound and by the time I turned 14, I had one, too. He stuck with his, but I felt the need to keep up with the latest and greatest. I adorned mine with rests, sights, stabilizers, and more. All those bells and whistles equated to me spending significantly more money in order to get “better” and “faster” results. With good intentions, we can have a way of making things too complicated, too often. It became so easy; in time I no longer felt the need to spend much time practicing, my enthusiasm faded, and I found myself bowhunting less and less.
That was when I realized, “faster and easier” wasn’t necessarily what I wanted or needed in my life. So, I bought a 65-year-old, used recurve bow and a dozen Port Orford cedar arrows. Something slow and simple began to rekindle my interests. Unlike the six-year- old me that just went shooting, the 43-year-old me did more probing and a lot more practicing. With relatively unlimited, easily accessed information at my fingertips, I listened to hours of interviews with storied traditional bowhunters who had tons of experience and knowledge. Many were modest, unpretentious, and downright inspiring. Others were boastful, insisting to belittle those who didn’t use traditional equipment, and quick to make claim of being the “better” hunters.
The difference in how the two types of tutors shared information made all the difference to me. It made me think very hard about my own beliefs as a dog trainer. I’ve never used an e-collar for training and don’t have plans to in the future, and I haven't been shy about sharing that with you in the past. About here’s where a younger me would ascend the soap box and ensue with an explanation of why I don't train with an e-collar with my dogs. But today the slower, older me, after listening to those traditional bowhunters whose egos negated any good their message had to offer, will try to not make that mistake.
Addressing Technological Changes in Dog Training For many, the process of training a bird dog is what is truly enjoyable. (Photo courtesy of Jeremy Moore) It’s not easy to admit one’s shortfalls, and I have plenty. I confess, my own lack of patience and inability to always control my temper well are, in part, reasons that I don’t use a collar. I should also be clearer in that I don’t have issue with the way many trainers use them today. It’s when they are abused and misused in ways unfair to the dogs that I dissent, and if someone’s offended by a statement like that then they’re the one who needed to hear it most. My setter rarely sees a check cord, I think retrievers can be trained to a high level without “forcing” anything, and don’t believe in “breaking” dogs. To those who say training with those techniques makes things go faster, I can agree and at times have seen it firsthand. But keep in mind, and never forget, that the time we have with our dogs is a gift, not a burden. That time spent working with them is something we could all get more reward from; should we all slow down and remember to enjoy it. To change someone’s mind is not an easy thing to do and telling them how or what they should or shouldn’t do, almost never works. Yet it seems to come easily and more naturally to many, including myself. To point out negatives of the other side, rather than positives the alternative may bring, are commonplace tendencies. That will be, in part, my challenge with writing these columns going forward. What you decide to do with the message, or whether you choose to even get that far into it, is completely up to you.
I’m not against technology when it comes to the outdoors or otherwise, but we have to be honest and treat it like what it is: a fine line to walk. I want to be careful our kids don’t grow up believing the only way to scout and pattern a deer is with live-feed cameras, the only way to shoot them is by clicking on rangefinders linked to blue-toothed sights, and that recovering game is something only done with a thermal drone. Likewise, I don’t want to see innovation cease when it comes to dog training, but I also don’t want to see a generation incapable of hunting or training their dogs if the batteries are dead, or they can’t get good reception. I believe that the importance of a connection between the dog and the human spirit need not be forgotten.
Maybe I shouldn’t admit in a magazine like this, dedicated to owners of dogs that hunt, that it isn’t just the hunting that’s important to me. That there’s far more to it than that. That when it comes to training dogs, the means are always greater than the end. Every dog knows it, and their trainers should too.
