Rog's Rod & Nimrod

A few weeks back I mentioned that friends had sent their dogs for two weeks of training to what they jokingly called “doggie boot camp.” Bentley, a Morkie lap dog, defiantly pees in the house while Eva, a cross that might include some beagle, black lab, and border collie barks at anything that passes the front window. The training, followed by some training of the owners, was successful. The training was done by focuseddogtraining.com of Madison, WI.

Upon the dogs’ return home, the trainer emphasized that “who’s the boss” had to be made very clear to the dogs. Dog behavior is now based on six different commands. The first of these is PLACE. This command calls for a “time out,” and a pad in the corner of the living room serves as the “time out” area. However, PLACE can be any spot designated by the owner(s). I personally observed the dogs being sent to PLACE and remain until the BREAK command was given. BREAK is the second command. The third command, COME, speaks for itself as does the fourth command which is SIT. The fifth and sixth commands, DOWN and QUIET, also speak for themselves. With both pets, dog treats are given as a reward for good behavior.

In order to reinforce Bentley with his urinary behavior, the water bowl is only made available at certain times, and following the water by approximately twenty minutes, Bentley is taken outside. As an alternative, the dogs also have their own little enter and exit house door. The perimeter of the outside property is wired so that the dogs do not go beyond property lines. It amazes me how much money people are willing to spend on their pets. Other than the home modifications, I suspect the training hit four figures.

So much for city dogs. Some sage once said that every good man deserves a good woman, a good dog, and a good shotgun. I’ve been fortunate. I have a great woman, a fine shotgun, and I was once blessed for fourteen years with Brown, as fine a Chesapeake as any dog that ever lived. I bought Brown from the late Rob Frei when she was six weeks old. I had read a book on training water dogs, and all went well. More important than my training ability, Brown was flat out smart. Dogs are like humans. Some are smarter than others.

We lived in the country, and in all those years, she never once wore a leash. She had a comfortable bed of straw and blankets in the pole barn, and learned from the start that she was not to come into the house. There was no need for “house training” as such. She figured out our property lines on her own, and always pooped out in the road ditch or outside of the yard.

Above all, I didn’t want her to be gun shy. I began by firing a .22 rimfire around her, and gradually worked up to the 12 gauge. We spent some serious time on SIT, STAY, and COME, and that was pretty much the extent of her formal education. She was great with the kids, became a great hunter, and protected our home front with great vigilance. Strangers were not permitted to leave their vehicles until we gave the ok, but once approved, she remembered.

She loved pheasant hunting. As she was born in December, we didn’t get around to pheasants until October. On her first experience, we walked corn rows. She was indifferent to the first rooster I dropped, but once she smelled that bird and realized the purpose of the venture, she became a wily pointer and retriever in that same day. I don’t know how or why, but she was also “soft mouthed” from the start. I’ll chalk that up to instinct. I could pen pages about the clever things she learned, but space prohibits. Read “Brown’s Diary” in my first book, A Dakota Rod and Nimrod, available at Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.com.

See you next week.