When eventually came out from the Eurotunnel I was disappointed: there was nothing special. Of course I was in Folkestone, England, but there was nothing welcoming us: we were simply sent away our train and met no special buildings, nothing but for an anonymous road leading us to more trafficked one. I already wrote about driving in England, to The North, and you can read my impressions here, I love that sign by the way! Today, I will concentrate on what happened in around Stanstead Airport, I think it was there, mile more or mile less, I remember planes flying low over my head.
While waiting for my train, at the Eurotunnel, I noticed some dark brown dots among Briony hair. “Unfortunately”, I have been a parasitology intern for a whole semester, which means I know more than I wish to know about all sort of nasty bugs infesting pets. The combination black dots + dog + hair, therefore, elicited quite an alarming reaction, but I desperately tried to be positive. Briony had been bathed, cleaned and groomed before I left, to make sure she was not going to travel around Europe carrying any clandestine bugs. She hardly had any parasites during all her life and I am quite picky in these things, I really had no reason to fear the worst. My inquisitive mind, however, was looking for detailed answers. It was afternoon when I decided to stop at a service station: my sat nav told me that there was one (and road signs said the same) so I followed their advice and I got lost. I know it might sound stupid, but in Italy motorway’ service stations are ON the motorway, not elsewhere. Since you pay to access the motorway here, you are not supposed to leave it until your trip is over: they basically lock you inside, together with everything you might need. You do not need to leave the motorway to buy some food, or some gas. So, as naïve as I can sometimes be, I could not believe my sat nav was taking me away from the motorway. I ended up in a small village, at a small village Country Club to be more precise, very pretty but no service stations. I stopped the car in a corner, recollected myself and persisted, eventually landing in a giant parking lot surrounded by supermarkets of all sorts. I badly needed a toilet (I drank so much water on the way!), something fresh to drink and a dinner for the night but… it was incredibly hot, too hot to leave the dog in the car for a prolonged time. I ended up leaving the car semi-open and having multiple- short- trips the shops.
After the first trip – toilet -I went back to the car, took Briony out, walked her and then dug among bags and suitcases to find the “grooming bag” and the medicines case. Flea comb came out first confirming my fears: the dog was carrying hundreds of bugs. I could not believe it: she was bug free when we left from home and now she was covered with fleas! I do not like chemicals and I know the less toxic products against fleas are not 100% effective but, I had to do something! I decided to adopt a multi-step strategy: part first consisted in looking for any single bug and smashing it, to be sure of its death. It took more than an hour… I then took Frontline spray, Neem spray and Scalibor collar (I travel heavy for a reason!) and placed all of them (these molecules can be safely used together) on Briony… I am an holistic vet in progress, I try to avoid medicines and chemicals at all costs, but I was so shocked by all those fleas that I opted for heavy artillery! I did not want to carry all those fleas around much longer.
As soon as she looked cleaner, I sprayed Frontline inside the crate and inside the car and left, in the hope to reach Woodland, in County Durham, my final destination, before the sunset. I think I parked in my B&B yard at around 9 PM, it was the golden hour and the place looked peaceful and welcoming. The owners were as well, I immediately loved that small “farm” with stone walls, surrounded by horses and paddocks, an ideal temporary home! (Slideshow with pictures below).

Ps. If you wonder where did the fleas came from… I think they were a gift from some French cats roaming around the French hotel…

Still curious about British trials? Check the section A Month on the Moor or click here.

I have seen many people train dogs yet I have seen very few people name train their dogs. I had a interesting conversation with Flake’s breeder yesterday on this particular subject.

Sure your dog knows it’s name, but do you use it consistently before every command? I know I do.

“Flake – Out”

“Flake – Sit”

” Flake – Stay”

” Flake – YES, YES”

Sounds pretty simple and for the most part name training a dog could be seen as pretty useless, but for those of us who train multiple dogs and run with bracemates, name training may just give you the edge over someone else.

For instance when your dog is backing another dog on point and they are very close together. Calling your dog back or in with a whistle, may also cause a problem with the dog on point, but if you name train and give the appropriate command you could very easily pull your dog out from the position or even stop him from advancing with the dog on point when their command comes.

Handling several dogs at the same time, has unlimited possibilities and problems, but if your dogs understand that they can only act once their name is called, it makes things easier.

I have seen too many dogs that get confused when they are run together with a bracemate and their bracemate gets a stern command, often your dog will react to this and the moment it does that, it’s not hunting and there lies a problem. Use it don’t use it, but be prepared to pay the price.

Next article here.

Tok Mostert, a Professional Hunter from South Africa, now living in Sweden,  is sharing his writings on dog training with us. You can start reading them from Part 1 here.

I cani non smettono mai di stupirmi e gli umani… di deludermi!

Questa settimana, ho viaggiato in treno fin troppe volte. Dopo settimane passate in eremitaggio sui libri, sono stata rispedita nel mondo reale, una realtà molto affollata. Quando penso ai cani, che vivono in un mondo di umani  – fatto PER umani – mi vengono in mente i viaggi di Gulliver. A Lilliput si sente fuori posto, e altrettanto accade a Brobdingnag (la terra dei giganti): questi mondi non sono adatti a persone della sua taglia. La situazione non cambia nella terra degli Houyhnhnms, un posto dominato dai cavalli che regnano sugli umani. Qui Gulliver prova ad adattarsi e a vivere secondo le regole degli Houyhnhnms. Non finisce bene ma queste avventure mi anno pensare a come i cani percepiscano il mondo umano in cui sono costretti a vivere. Non per essere di parte, ma queste creature sono straordinarie: sono generalmente più piccoli di noi (quindi per loro tutto è più grande!); non possono parlare; non sanno leggere; riescono a comprendere il nostro linguaggio solo in parte; sono spesso SOLI tra gli umani e… nonostante tutto questo se la cavano egregiamente!

Ieri stavo chiudendo un pezzo sulla cognizione canina, è emerso che i cani sono formidabili nel comprendere i segnali sociali umani. Nessun’altra specie, esclusi gli umani che leggono altri umani, è cosi brava, nemmeno le scimmie, nostre parenti prossime. Non sto farneticando, se siete scettici vi posso assicurare che tutto è stato confermato dalla scienza, se siete interessati potete leggere di più in  Gli manca solo la parola.

Noi umani ce la caveremo altrettanto bene in un mondo di cani, fatto a misura di cane? Non penso,  e non perché ci toccherebbe mangiare i loro avanzi, o dormire per terra. Non ce la caveremmo bene per il semplice motivo che non sappiamo leggere i cani! Forse questo non è vero per chi mi sta leggendo ma la maggior parte degli esseri umani non ha la minima idea di come interpretare correttamente un cane. Non è necessario essere comportamentisti o addestratori professionisti, tutti i proprietari dovrebbero saper leggere ALMENO i loro cani, almeno gli atteggiamento di base. Giorno dopo giorno, mi accorgo che questo non accade e, sì, considerando il fatto che la gente fraintende (e conseguentemente maltratta), persino i propri bambini, che appartengono alla loro stessa specie, è possibile che le mie aspettative siano eccessivamente elevate.

Alcuni umani, ultimo caso una bionda, esagerano e dicono cose del tipo:

“Vedi? E’ molto sensibile, Ha appena mosso il quarto baffo della seconda fila in senso antiorario, significa che è stressato! Diamogli più spazio!”

Esagerazioni a parte, la maggior parte degli umani ha bisogno di occhiali molto spessi che li aiutino a leggere i cani. Come detto all’inizio, questa settimana ho preso un po’ di treni. Prendere il treno implicare l’andare in stazione ad aspettarli e interfacciarsi con altra gente. In queste circostanze, la mia socievolezza è pari a quella di Mercoledì Addams la mattina di Natale: vado in un punto deserto del binario e mi nascondo dietro ad un libro.  Il tutto funziona fino a che non vedo un cane, in quel caso il cane batte il libro. Così ora vi racconto cosa è successo e cosa mi ha spinto a scrivere questo articolo. Una donna con un meticcio tipo pastore al guinzaglio si è posizionata accanto a me sulla banchina. Il cane sembrava uno di quei semi randagi biondicci e pastorosi che vengono “salvati” dal sud Italia e dalla Spagna. Forse non era un rescue ma ne aveva tutta l’aria, era piuttosto giovane. Sembrava un po’ timoroso, ma non troppo: i treni fanno molto rumore e le stazioni ferroviarie possono spaventare un cane. Mentre si districava tra le sue perplessità, è arrivato un treno rumoroso, lui si è irrigidito e a messo la coda tra le gambe quando all’improvviso, la proprietaria travestitasi da supereroe ha pensato di  salvarlo sollevandolo (sarà stato circa 20 kg) da terra. Come reagito? Si è fatto ancora più rigido, la coda ha raggiunto l’ombelico e gli occhi hanno lanciato al mondo uno sguardo di terrore. Il tutto è durato fino a che non l’ha posato a terra. I cani non hanno le ali, non sono stati creati per essere sollevati a mezz’aria: sono mammiferi terrestri che vogliono stare sulla terra e sentirsi radicati, specialmente in situazioni di pericolo! Non ci voleva un genio per capire che stava solo peggiorando le cose, eppure non si è accorta di nulla.

Una volta atterrato, il cane si è avvicinato a me e, sì sebbene sia la norma che io attiri psycho-cani, in questo caso non potevo proprio biasimarlo. Mi sono inginocchiata e l’ho grattato sotto il meno. Era felice e non si è accorto di un paio di treni che sono passati sui binari vicini. Era piuttosto rilassato e la proprietaria si è dimenticata di lui fino a quando… non è arrivato il nostro treno. A quel punto, senza tante cerimonie l’ha agguantato e l’ha sollevato come se fosse un borsone: il povero cane ha espresso gli stessi segnali corporei di prima e l’attacco di panico era anche più grave. Non se ne è proprio accorta. Una parte di me, quella selvatica, voleva urlarle “Rimetti a terra quel caspita di cane!”, ma la parte domestica ha prevalso e mi sono limitata a dirigermi verso un’altra carrozza, per non vedere altro. Tanto di sicuro non mi ha letto nel pensiero, se ne fosse stata capace avrebbe capito il suo cane!

Dogs never cease to amaze me, humans never cease to suprise me!

This week, I had my fair share of travelling on trains. After weeks  of seclusion spent on books, I was suddenly sent back to the real world, a world full of people. When I think about dogs living in a world of humans -made FOR humans – my mind goes back to Gulliver’s Travels. In Lilliput he feels out of place, the same happens in Brobdingnag (the land of giants): these worlds are not suitable to people of his size. Things are almost identical in the land of the Houyhnhnms, a  place dominated by horses who rule on humans. Here however, Gulliver  tries to adapt and embraces the Houyhnhnms lifestyle.  The story does not end well, but these adventures make me think about how dogs perceive the “human” world they are forced to live in. Not to be partial to dogs but… these critters are amazing: they are generally smaller than us (so everything looks bigger to them!); they cannot speak;  they cannot read; they  only partially understand human language; they are often ALONE with humans and… despite all this… they do extremely well!

Yesterday I was closing an article on dog cognition and it came out that dogs are exceptionally capable of understanding human social cues. No other species, but for humans reading other humans, does that well, not even apes, our closest relatives.  And, no, this is not a rambling speech, if you are skeptical, I can assure that what I just wrote was confirmed by science, you can read more in The Genius of Dogs: How Dogs Are Smarter Than You Think. The scientifically proven ability to understand social cues, together with the capability to read people and their emotions – which cannot be denied – sets dogs apart and makes them our best friends.

Would we perform that well, and be equally happy, in a world dominated by dogs and tailored on their needs? I do not think so, and not  strictly because we will be forced to eat dogs’ leftover and sleep on the ground.  Most of us humans won’t do well because we can’t read dogs!  This might not be true for the people who are reading this article, but I can assure you that the average human being has not clue about how to correctly interpret a dog.  And to do so a person does not need to be a behaviourist nor a pro handler, anyone owning a dog should know how to read at least HIS dog, at least the basics. Day after day, I realize this is not the case and yes, given the fact that people misinterpret  (and consequently mistreat), their own children, who belong to the same species, my expectations might be too high.

A few human beings, the last case report involves a blonde female, go overboard and say things like:

“You see? He is very sensitive. He just moved his 4^th left whisker in the second row counterclockwise, this means he is stressed! Let’s give him more space!”

Exaggerations aside, the waste majority of humans needs a heavy pair of glasses when it comes to reading dogs. This week, as said in the beginning, I travelled on many trains and travelling by train involves waiting for them at station and meeting other people. In these circumstances, my sociability equals the one of Wednesday Addams on Christmas morning: I pick a barren spot on the platform and hide myself behind a book.  This usually works well, unless I spot a dog who, obviously defeats the book. So let me tell you what happened, and what triggered this article. A woman with a shepherd mix on lead stopped by me on the platform. The dog looked like one of those semi-stray blondish shepherdish dogs often rescued from southern Italy, or Spain. Maybe he was not a rescue, but he looked like one, he was quite young. He also looked a bit fearful but not too much: trains are noisy and train stations can surely be intimidating to a dog. He was questioning his doubts until a loud train came, he got stiff and tucked his tail between his legs and then, his super owner came to rescue him by… lifting him (a 20 kgs dog) from the ground. Dog reaction? More stiffness, a super tucked tail and a horrified stare which lasted until she put the dog back on the ground.  Dogs do not have wings, they are not meant to be lifted in mid air: these are terrestrial mammals and want to be, and feel grounded, especially when facing a danger! She did not have to be a genius to understand she was only making things worse, yet she did not notice anything.

After landing, the dog got closer to me and well, whereas  it is true that I am a magnet for psycho-dogs, I could not really blame him. I kneeled down and rubbed his chin. He was happy and he did not mind a couple of trains arriving on the nearby tracks.  He was fairly relaxed and the owner had forgotten about him until… our train arrived.  Without even looking at the dog, the owner grabbed him again and picked him up, treating him like a piece of baggage: the poor dog emitted the same body signals and his panic attack was even more severe. She simply did not notice. Part of me, the wild side, wanted to scream “Put that damn dog back on the ground!”, but the tame side prevailed and I said nothing, just walked towards another carriage to avoid seeing more. I am sure she did not read my mind, otherwise she would have read her dog!

I am busy packing for a long holiday, Louise, my companion, says she is actually taking me away so that Flake can get some rest. There is truth in that, sometimes we get caught up in pushing so hard and trying to get to the next level with our gundogs that we forget to have fun, so should your dog. What few of us realize is that the “next level” holds more problems, more challenging training situations and that often we made a mistake in our initial training and that we now have to go back and fix that before we can move on.

If you are serious about your hunting or trial dog, you will always strive for perfection, but you will also know that perfection has many faces. What may be perfect for you, may not be perfect for a judge or for other handlers. True perfection does not exist, it is only the strive for perfection that is true. Flake is lying in front of the fire right now, oblivious to what I may think, write or feel, content in just letting go of the days training. I guess I should learn from her and do the same, I wish I could. As the glow of the fireplace dances over her speckled body, so the season dances through my mind.

1. She has developed incredibly over the last 6 months when it comes to fieldwork.
   2. She has not had a break in 16 months, maybe one or two days certain weeks, sometimes only a day a month.
   3. If I don’t do my part she will never get further, just like those flames of the fireplace dwindle down and die if I don’t keep adding wood.
   4. Her hunting season is over, it may have not been perfect, but she has made me proud.
   5. She is not better than other dogs, she has just had better opportunities and I need to keep giving her those.
   6. I need to pay attention to the early signals of a problem developing, it is easier to prevent a problem from becoming a habit, than it is to break a habit.
   7. Going back to basics often builds a better dog.
   8. You have to hit the dogs “reset” button at some stage, take a break leave all training and let the dog be a dog.

As I said above, our season is over until I get back from Africa, she is getting a break and some time to “reset”. I get time to ponder our season and to break down everything I see as a potential problem or a real problem I picked up during our season together. Some are very small, some are very big, but they all get the same amount of attention and focus.

Some may be happy with a HPR dog that picks up ducks all over the place, I want a dog that picks up a specific duck among the many on the ground, especially the winged ones I select even if there are several. I want a HPR dog that can keep it cool under the guns no matter how many shots go off and how many birds are dropping around her.
I want a dog that takes a straight line into the water on a blind retrieve, in virgin water I want the dog to do this carefully, but straight without hesitation.
I want a dog that follows commands on a blind retrieve, but that can work the thick stuff by himself when I can’t help anymore.
I want a dog that does not only focus on the flock of birds he just flushed on command, but also understands to look for the bird that I am shooting at, to make the retrieve easier for him.
I want a dog that can work late season birds and pin them so hard that they don’t breath.

Will I get all of this done? Maybe not but it does not stop me from trying or training. It may take longer, It may take new training methods, I can’t say for sure. What I can say is that I will be breaking it all down in my head long before I start training and as always, I will start with the basics all over again.

Next article here.

Tok Mostert, a Professional Hunter from South Africa, now living in Sweden,  is sharing his writings on dog training with us. You can start reading them from Part 1 here.

Per chi non ha letto il libro di Sophie Kinsella La regina della casa , la storia racconda di Samantha, un avvocato di successo che, obbligata ad un repentino cambio di carriera, si spaccia per domestica perfetta quando nulla potrebbe essere più lontano dal vero. Samantha non sa cucinare, non sa stirare e nemmeno sa pulire ma è sveglia e trova sempre il modo di risolvere i problemi domestici in maniera creativa. Più o meno quello che capita qui, sono pertanto felicissima di condividere le mie ultime scoperte, provatele!

• Soffiatori per cani. Questi affari sono polivalenti, come i drahthaar. Se non riuscite mai a pulire come si deve la tastiera del PV, ho la soluzione per voi. Soffiatela da cima a fondo con il soffiatore,  i risultati vi stupiranno. Utilizzo numero due, usate il soffiatore per sciogliere trigger points e contratture muscolari, vi sentirete meglio (credete al veterinario!).
• Saponi trendy ed ecobio (sapone liquido Dr. Bronner Pure Castile). Me ne ha regalati alcuni per Natale la mia amica hippie, a tutti serve almeno un0’amica hippie. Non avevo mai sentito parlare di questa marca ma l’INCI (composizione, ovviamente leggo anche le etichette dei saponi) era buono e c’era anche un volantino che spiegava i mille usi di questi saponi. C’era scritto che si potevano usare anche sugli animali ma ero un po’ scettica. Questa mattina però, mentre stavo sciacquando via il fango da Briony, mi sono resa conto che era talmente infangata che uno shampo avrebbe aiutato. Così, ho preso una di queste bottigliette che se ne stava in bagno aspettando di essere usata e ne ho messo solo poche gocce sulle frange. Ottimo risultato, sono uscite più setose che con il solito shampo professionale e il cane era contento per l’assenza di profumo. Servono ulteriori ricerche!

For those who have not read Sophie Kinsella’s book The Undomestic Goddess
the story revolves around Samantha, a successful attorney who suddenly gives up her job and pretends to be a proficient housekeeper. Nothing can be further from the truth: Samantha can’t cook, can’t iron nor can clean, but she is smart enough to find “creative” solutions to solve domestic problems. Same happens here and I am proud to share my most recent discoveries encouraging you to try them at home!

• Pet dryers. These things are multitasking, like drahthaars (GWPs). If you never manage to de-dust your laptop keyboard properly, just blow it with a pet dryer, you will be amazed by the results. These things can also be used on sore muscles and trigger points. They warm up the muscle quickly and you’d feel better (trust the vet!).
• Fancy Organic Soaps (Dr. Bronner Pure Castile Liquid Soap). I was given a collection of these as a Christmas gift by a hippie friend, everybody needs a hippie friend by the way. Never heard of this brand before, but they had a good INCI (composition – yes, I do read soap labels) and came with a presentation leaflet listing all the things you could use them for.  Washing dogs was one of the listed things but I did not trust the leaflet. This morning while I was washing mud away from Briony, I realized she was very muddy and that some shampoo could have helped. I had one of these bottles at hand and just used a few drops on her legs’ feathers. Well, they came out silkier than with our “professional” dog shampoo, plus she was grateful I used the unscented variety. Further research is needed.

La mattina seguente, appena alzata, ho scoperto di avere un nuovo compagno di stanza: uno scarafaggio stava cercando di entrare nella ciotola di Briony! Non mi andava di mettermi a battagliare con l’insetto, dico solo che la sua presenza non mi ha colpito positivamente. In ogni caso l’ho lasciato con Briony e sono andata a fare colazione nell’edificio principale. Era sabato mattina, troppo presto per i miei parametri, la sala era piuttosto vuota, solo gruppetti di motociclisti inglesi. “Hagrid” non c’era, ma c’era diversi suoi colleghi sparsi tra i tavoli, ero l’unica donna e, soprattutto l’unica donna che viaggiava da sola!

Ho re-impacchettato tutto, scarafaggio escluso, e sono partita verso Les Coquelles, dove si trova il lato francese dell’Eurotunnel. Ero in anticipo ma temevo di essere in ritardo, mi era stato detto che serviva un po’ di tempo per passare i controlli alla Pet Reception Area. L’autostrada era pressoché vuota e il sole lanciava dei raggi grigiastri e insignificanti. Perché il tunnel? Avevo sempre raggiunto l’ Inghilterra via aria, quindi avrei voluto vedere le “bianche scogliere di Dover”, il traghetto era pertanto un’opzione appetibile. Lo è stato fino a che ho scoperto che i cani dovevano restare in auto, nella stiva. Chi ha viaggiato sui traghetti italiani sa che da noi è vero il contrario. NON si possono lasciare i cani in stiva: è considerato pericoloso e, di fatto, chi ha lasciato il cane “illegalmente” a volte l’ha trovato morto, forse ucciso da gas di scarico. Sui nostri traghetti ci sono delle gabbie e, comunque, i cani si possono portare sul ponte. La politica dei traghetti inglesi è opposta, il cane resta in stiva, nessuna eccezione. Purtroppo, i fatti di cronaca raccontano di cani morti in stiva: è vero, il viaggio è breve ma, se le temperature sono alte, il rischio del colpo di calore è dietro l’angolo. Così ho fatto la mia scelta.

La Pet Reception Area era quasi vuota, c’era all’esterno un van per cavalli che pensavo avrebbe rallentato tutto, ma le cose invece si sono svolte velocemente, un controllo al chip e al passaporto ed eravamo a posto. All’esterno c’era un area cani cintata, ci ho portato Briony, sorpresa: l’erba era di plastica! Il tutto era un po’ assurdo ma mi ricordava la mia infanzia: ho passato i miei primi anni di vita in città, all’ombra della cattedrale. Le strade erano coperte con pietre, lastroni e acciottolato, io volevo l’erba e credevo di poter creare un prato usando l’erba di plastica! Briony ha presto fatto amicizia con un grande bovaro svizzero appartenente a degli inglesi che si erano trasferiti in Francia. Andavano in Inghilterra per le vacanze ma, stando a loro, erano felicissimi di essersi trasferiti e di avere aperto un Bed and Breakfast. Mentre parlavamo, ho trovato dei puntini neri nel mantello di Briony ma, volendo escludere l’ipotesi peggiore, mi sono limitata a metterla in gabbia e a ripartire verso il treno.

“Come è il tunnel?”, di tutta l’avventura inglese questa è la domanda più frequente. Tutti sono incuriositi dal tunnel e credo li immaginino molto diverso. “Si vedono i pesci?” “No, solo  i mostri marini!”. Non sono una cattiva persona, quindi non ho mai risposto così, ma la domanda sui pesci è vera e frequente.  Le persone rimangono molto male quando racconto che il tunnel non è affatto diverso dalla metropolitana di una qualsiasi città europea, l’unica differenza sono gli spazi per parcheggiare l’auto al posto dei sedili. Quando si entra nel tunnel poi, non si vedono altro che muri grigi. Il viaggio è molto rapido, ho impiegato meno di quanto normalmente mi serva per attraversare Milano, certo il tunnel on ha il fascino delle bianche scogliere di Dover ma, se si viaggia con un cane, è estremamente pratico!

Per saperne di più sul nostro arrivo in Inghilterra cliccate qui.

On the following morning, right after waking up, I realized I had a new roommate: a cockroach was trying to get into Briony’s bowl! I did not want to get into a fight with the bug, but I was not so positively impressed by its presence. Anyway, I left it and Briony alone and went to the main building to have breakfast. It was Saturday morning, early for my standards, and the only people there were male British bikers travelling in small groups. “Hagrid” was not there, but his colleagues were scattered in different tables: I was the only woman, and most of all the only woman travelling alone!

I quickly re-packed everything, but for the bug, and left, heading towards Les Coquelles, were the French side of the Eurotunnel is located. It was early, but I was afraid of being late: I was told it takes time to go through the Pet Reception Area. The motorway was, again, virtually empty and the sun was casting dull grey rays. Why the tunnel? As I have always reached England by air, I wanted to reach it by sea to see the “White Cliffs of Dover” (school memories)  hence the ferry was an interesting option until I found out that pets must remain in the car. Here in Italy, the opposite happens: you CAN’T leave a dog in a vehicle on a ferry. You are not supposed to do so because it is deemed too dangerous, and rightly so: I know of dogs, illegally left there, who were found dead, probably killed by gas exhalations. Our ferries provide kennels for dogs but you are also allowed to keep the dog with you. British Ferries, instead, follow another policy and dogs must be left in the car: whereas it is true that the trip is quite short, during the summer months temperatures could be too high. Indeed, I investigated and it came out that some pets had died, while crossing from France to England in the summer, cause of death was heatstroke. This is how I made my decision.

The Pet Reception Area was almost empty, outside there was a van full of horses and I thought it was going to slower things but, everything was very quick: they checked the dog’s microchip and passport and gave me a badge. Outside of the building there was a fenced dog park and I brought Briony there: its ground was made of plastic grass! A bit odd but reminded me of my childhood: I spent my first 8 years of life living in the city centre, right in the cathedral shadow. Roads were paved with stones and granite and I suffered that, I wanted grass and I thought I could have had lawn made with plastic grass… But anyway, she quickly made friends with a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog. Her owners were British and going back to England on vacation: they told me they now lived in France where they were running a B&B, apparently they were much happier in France. While they were talking I noticed some tiny black dots between Briony’s hair but I did not want to think about the “worst case scenario”, put her back in her crate and drove towards the train.

“How was the tunnel?” is the most frequent question I get asked. People are really curious and, most likely, imagine something else. “Can you see fishes?” “ No, just sea monsters!”. Seriously, I have never answered like that but… I had the fishes question asked several times. When I describe the tunnel like an underground, people get disappointed! But, in reality, it is not much different than Milan, London or Paris underground! It looks the same, but instead of featuring seats, these trains feature parking spaces for cars. That’s it, once you get inside the tunnel you see nothing but grey walls. The journey is very short: to go from France to England it took less than to go from one side of Milan to another on the underground. Not as beautiful as the White Cliffs of Dover, but very convenient if you are travelling with a pet!

You can read about our arrival in England here.

Introducing a dog to gunfire is and will remain a critical element in his training. Many good dogs have been ruined by a wrong use of gunfire and some develop problems later that are not easy to solve. Having a gun shy dog is frustrating and leads down a long path of re-training and sometimes a dog that cannot be hunted at all. The dog becomes so frightened by gunfire that when he does scent a bird he will avoid pointing, as this will lead to a shot or even more shots being fired.

I have a somewhat different approach to training my dogs, gundog or lapdog all receive the same training. Once the puppy has developed a bond with me and has settled in well in our home, but most of all, trusts me I start “Boom Proofing” him. Even tough our lap dogs have never been around gunfire, they react the same way (or do not react at all) to loud noises or fireworks, exactly like a gundog. As said above, the puppy must trust you and understand that you offer protection and support, both mentally and physically. I start by “scaring” them a little by dropping a magazine flat on the floor, it should make a slapping sound, not a overly loud banging sound. I do this when the puppy least expects this, a surprise if you will. The natural reaction is for them to scare, run or hide, sometimes both. Here two things are extremely important, your response and the timing of your response. I respond immediately, the puppy has no time to figure out what made the noise, I immediately give both verbal and physical support to the dog. “Come girl, oh there you are, what a good girl”. I also offer my physical support by kneeling down and opening my arms to the dog, inviting him to me while giving verbal support. 99% of the time the dog responds by coming to me immediately, I then heap praise on the dog. As said before, be overly friendly! This is a negative-positive training technique. Always, always respond the same way, immediately, positively and friendly!
Eventually you will have to move up to heavier books! I go around slapping the outside of cupboards ,doors and any flat surfaces too. My response and the dogs always stays the same, eventually they come straight into me at the slap or bang sound, this is what I am aiming for. I do not stop there however, someday I may sneak up behind them and grab a leg or tail (I never hold onto the part I grab, it is a light touch) once again my response is the same, immediate, positive and friendly. Eventually the dog will respond positively immediately, even as you start your response, this is what I aim for. Do not overdo this, every other day or twice a week, once a day, is enough! I still do this and my dogs are between 1 and 7 years old.

Now please understand that to you it may sound like I am terrorizing my dogs, far from it, the incorrect reaction by the trainer is what would be categorized as terrorizing the dog.
Keep in mind we expose dogs to many “surprise” noises, doors slammed, cars backfired, plates and glasses breaking, fireworks etc there are thousands of examples.
A dog that is not accustomed, nor trained, for this often has a hard time when things go wrong. Dogs hang or impale themselves on fences, run through glass doors or run in front of cars every year with the fireworks, my dogs either look for birds or lie sleeping through it. As said before in another article, break down your training, a dog should be able to retrieve before you introduce gunfire like training with the retrieving training. I start with a cast and clap of the hands, move on to a cast and blank pistol (plastic revolver with very low charge caps). When you start with the blank pistol it is a good idea to have another person doing the cast and the shooting, Shoot 10-12 meters away from the dog, keep the dog steady and offer a lot of verbal support. If the dog shows discomfort at the shot, move further away with the blank pistol, if it does not bother the dog, move closer. Do this for every type of “gunfire” you introduce,. 22,9mm and shotgun should be started at least 20-25 meters away from the dog, further is better. Increase the caliber progressively, do not go from blank pistol to gauge 12 shotgun directly!

Read the dog, if he is uncomfortable offer more verbal, or physical support, if you do the blank pistol training right, the dog will already know that following the shot comes a retrieve, which you made a fun thing during the retrieving trainings, that is if you followed my advice. Once you get to the shotgun with the cast and shoot, your dog should be steady to the shot and cast, never let the dog break at the shot, never. Go back a step without the shot to get the dog steady again.
As said clearly before, hunting amplifies any little problems the dog has 1000 times. Get it right in training and you will have less disappointments during hunting (problems always come up during hunting).

Keep in mind that any negative inputs from you after the shot is going to affect the dog, you may not even realise you are being negative! It only takes three of such sessions to turn a dog gun shy, always, always end on a positive note when training, go back a step if you have to! Remember to have fun when training, the dog must enjoy what he is doing, and his desire to please you must be greater than his fear to fail.
It is so easy to get caught up in getting one thing right that you forget it is only a small piece of a incredible dog you are building, see the bigger picture!

Next article here.

Tok Mostert, a Professional Hunter from South Africa, now living in Sweden,  is sharing his writings on dog training with us. You can start reading them from Part 1 here.