Tooey came into season yesterday, a fact I discovered when I noticed stains on the grooming table.
Cooper has been trying to tell us for several days. He’s been sniffing studiously wherever she’s been sitting, and trying to lick and sniff her at every opportunity.
I should have known at one point yesterday morning when, after trying to get in close and personal with his nose, Cooper jumped back with a cry as Tooey turned and snapped at his face.
Fortunately, no harm was done. We’re keeping them separated now, and Cooper tries to remind himself that he has to leave the girl alone.
Even in the face of provocation.
Yeah, well. That’s true. I did make that promise. And if he hadn’t started liking it, I would have kept my promise. He really seems to be liking going out to lessons and to practice, although that doesn’t mean he’s always paying attention or doing what I ask him to do.
Like last night. I wish I had a picture of it. I was out at a lesson, and instead of jumping over the broad jump as I’d asked him to, Cooper ran up to sit next to me, and gazed up at me with an expression of, well, of a boy who is looking at a girl he adores.
I wanted to laugh and smile at him, but of course I couldn’t. He hadn’t done what I asked him to do. So I turned away and composed my face, before turning back, leading him back to the jump, and asking him to jump again.
It seems that it’s not Obedience he likes so much, as (at least for the moment) being out with me doing something. And since “something” these days is Obedience, he’s thrilled to be doing Obedience. And sometimes, he even gets it right.
After Tooey got her CD Obedience title, I wanted to find something that she’d enjoy doing. Something that was so wonderful that she’d stop paying attention to the strange people and weird noises, and just enjoy enjoy herself.
She liked conformation because she got to trot around and show herself off, but when it came to being examined by the judge, that was not always wonderful. Some judges, she just didn’t want getting that close to her.
Hunting with Russ and me is apparently fun — usually there are no strange people out in the field and she gets to sniff around open country for birds and critters. She seems to regard flushing and retrieving a bird as just the price she has to pay for getting to go out with us. Hunt tests are another thing altogether — too many strange people wandering around.
Obedience competition has, I think, worried Tooey. She wants to do well, and some things she does do very well, but with some exercises, she still not totally sure what she’s supposed to do. And then there has also been the matter of working in the ring with a stranger (the judge).
So, I decided to try Nosework.
You can predict how our first class went — strange instructor, strange (human) students, strange place (outside of a big-box hardware store), and weird flapping tarps and doors whooshing loudly open and shut. She was jumpy.
But it got better. She had three tries at searching seven cardboard boxes for bits of liver and hotdog. The first time, she had no idea what she was doing out there in the middle of all those boxes surrounded by people. But I told her to “find it,” and then she got a whiff of the hotdog, went straight to that box, and vacuumed up the bits of food.
The second time, she looked around a bit at the people and flappy things before getting into the search for food, but she quickly got down to work and found the food quite fast.
The third time, I got the leash put on her collar, and she practically dragged me over to the boxes. Who cares about all those strange people? I didn’t hear any flapping tarps, did you? And did you know there’s food in those boxes? Let’s go find it!!!
The second lesson went even better. Food was still hidden in boxes for her to find, but this time the boxes were placed up on ledges and set an angles. Even so, she found the food quickly each time at this lesson, too. Oh, and all those strange people, classmates and store shoppers alike? It was like she didn’t even notice. let’s get to work! There is food to be found!
This past weekend, Rod, Renae, Russ and I, and our four Irish Water Spaniels, trekked out to north-central Oregon for a little pheasant hunting. Amid lavender and sage, and along draws and ponds linked with cattails, the dogs flushed pheasants and the hunters brought down a few for future dinners.
On Sunday, Rio (the old hand) and Kasen (the wild child) found and flushed five pheasants. Three of them escaped to live another day or two. (We noticed Cooper’s hawks soaring overhead, so what we didn’t bring down, the hawks no doubt did.) But two of them were flushed and shot, and then retrieved by Kasen.
After Rio and Kasen scoured the field, Cooper and Tooey had their chance over the same ground. They found lots of evidence of birds — feathers and other bird parts on the ground — but the birds that had been there had the good sense to fly off out of range. So we had lots of fun hiking and searching, but no finding.
On Monday, it snowed and rained, but we all went out anyway, first with Cooper and Tooey.
Sunday’s terrain was mostly flat. Going out, we followed along a draw lined with cattails and dotted with small ponds. Next to the draw was a huge field of grass that we covered on the way back.
Cooper flushed multiple pheasants along the draw and retrieved the two that were brought down. Tooey helped with the finding and flushing the first three, but didn’t get to retrieve any birds. That’s because the third pheasant she and Cooper flushed together escaped, flying far over the grass field, which is where Tooey decided to run also in pursuit. We whistled and called, and whistled and called, but Tooey didn’t come back.
Russ and I marched out after her, and found her a half mile away up against a barbed wire fence, quartering madly, still hunting up that bird. Good for the hunting, BAD for the not coming back when called. So I escorted Tooey a half mile back to the car, put her up, and then hiked the other way to catch up with the hunters.
While I was gone (darn it!), I missed Cooper’s reportedly persistent poking in and out and around a cattail patch to flush the pheasant hiding there. Finally, the pheasant flew, was brought down, and retrieved by a very satisfied Cooper.
I was glad that he didn’t flush his last pheasant until I returned to the group. It too was flushed out of another patch of cattails along the edges of a different pond. I did get a picture of that one, but with the rain and snow, the lens was damp, giving the picture a misty, out of focus look.
Rio and Kasen did a sweep of the same area to see if they could find any of the pheasants that we missed. But they came up empty-pawed, and we all hiked back to the cars, packed up, and drove home.
All in all, a great weekend with friends, dogs, and birds for the table.