Hunt Test

August 2012

by Chris Robinson

When you decide to take your sporting dog into the field, there is only one rule that it is absolutely essential to engrave upon your brain: Always expect the unexpected. If you do, you’ll never be disappointed and every now and then, if you can keep your perspective, while it may not seem all that funny at the time especially when you’ve forked over a sizeable chunk of money for the entry fee, later when you’ve recovered your sense of humor, you’ll have a really entertaining story to tell. But, probably just to other dog people because they’re the only ones who will truly understand simply because virtually all of them have not only been there and done that, but also have the t-shirt.

In the 15-plus years that I ran my dogs in the field and judged hunt tests, I saw a number of dog acts that, if they had occurred on stage or in a circus ring, would have rivaled the clowns’ routine in popularity and hilarity. I have also, in my years of writing for dog publications, heard many tales, usually from the folks directly involved, of things that have happened to them in the field at dog events. These stories serve as a reminder that even the best dogs will go in the tank for you now and again and if you can’t laugh at yourself and your dog, you are taking this business much too seriously!!!!!

A late, long-time friend of mine, Ann Mortenson of Flat-Coat fame, witnessed a number of funny incidents while running her dogs through the various levels of retriever hunt tests. Part of the reason was that many Flat-Coat breeders must listen to the soundtrack from “Gypsy” quite a lot before the pups are born because a significant number of that particular breed seem to be born singing “Let Me Entertain You.” Anyway, Ann was running one of her Flat-Coats in senior when the birds were thrown and shot for her dog. However, the dog leaned a bit too far forward out of the boat they were supposed to be running out of and ended up headfirst in the mud. Instead of just sending him from that spot, the judges wanted her to recall the dog and send him out of the boat. While that made no sense to her, she complied with their wishes and told the dog, “here, heel.” But, he refused to take his eyes off the birds (naturally) and instead of coming around and getting back in the boat, lunged backward smacking his rump against the boat. This happened three times before Ann literally screamed, “Here, heeeel!” Whereupon he lunged backward with more force than any of the three previous smacks and this time hit the boat so hard it dumped Ann overboard into the muck. The judges were practically rolling on the ground with laughter by this time and one finally gasped out, “Just send him.” She said it took her several hours to get all the muck off herself, out of her ear, out of her nose and off the dog, but he did get an orange ribbon.

This same dog had a penchant for stealing birds at hunt tests. On numerous occasions, after returning with a bird and delivering it to Ann, he would grab birds off the pile behind the judges if they were not promptly stashed in burlap sacks. But his bird stealing act reached its zenith in a spectacular performance at the national specialty when he snatched a bird from the pile and ran around the entire field with that special kind of joie de vivre that misbehaving dogs always seem to exhibit when they have a laughing audience egging them on. Displaying escape and evasion tactics worthy of inclusion in the curriculum at West Point, he managed to avoid capture by Ann, the two judges, the marshal and the gunners for what seemed like three days to his pursuers. When he was finally induced to surrender, he displayed absolutely no remorse for his sins, smiling, giggling and wagging in total glee. Ann swore that he made several bows to the cheering, laughing, applauding gallery as he was led from the field.

Roe Froman DVM, who has Clumber Spaniels, also had a “smacking” experience at a hunt test with her Ch/MH Clumber D Too. She said, “On a hot day at a test in Wisconsin, the committee was using chukars that were sucker birds in that they declined to flush and fly but merely took a long hop when the dog came in on them. One finally flushed for D Too but not far, just to the parking lot where it then went under the cars and trucks. The judges said, ‘Send him.’ What? No shots had been fired! But, the judges’ word is law so I sent him and the judges were joking that they could see that big dog moving the vehicles as he tried to roust the bird. Eventually he DID get it to move and he chased it back into the field where it finally flushed for real. It was a nice, long mark with the dog sitting beautifully and absolutely locked on the area of the fall. On my release command, eighty-three pounds of Clumber blasted off at full tilt and ran smack dab into a tree. It was a tiny tree and the only one in the field but he really banged into it. He bounced off, shook his head and beelined the downed bird. To this day I remember one of the judges doubled over in laughter with the clipboard up over his face and then apologizing for laughing—‘Sorry, it was just so FUNNY!’ Fortunately, nothing could hurt that hard head and he did make the retrieve.”

Smacking into things seems to be a recurring event in hunt tests and it’s not always the dog that does the smacking. I was judging a Brittany in a senior pointer test one time on a shooting preserve during the spring turkey hunting season. As the dog, its owner, the judge, a gunner and a horse ambled down the back course, a quail flushed wild and then chose to land on the hood of a truck that turkey hunters had parked just off the back course. The dog, of course, saw the flush, trotted over to the vehicle and froze in a perfect point. The gunner and the handler walked over to the pointing dog and did everything but stand on their heads to get the bird to flush so the gunner could shoot it. Not a chance. The bird just casually sauntered around the hood, the windshield, the roof, the camper on the back of the truck but never showed any inclination to fly and it always stayed just out of reach of either the handler or the gunner so they couldn’t sweep it off. Every time the bird would move, the Brittany would relocate and re-establish its point. This went on for quite a while until finally I’d seen enough.

I was carrying a jockey’s whip that day because the horse I was riding had demonstrated a firm reluctance to move on several occasions. In fact, his idea of how things were supposed to go on this day was that he should stand in one place and either admire the flowers or eat the spring grass. In order to keep him moving enough to stay with the dogs, it had required some significant encouragement. Unfortunately, he was also totally impervious to leg pressure and even spurs had no appreciable effect. The only thing that made any impression on him at all with regard to creating forward motion was a couple of sharp spanks with the bat.

By the time “Old Slowpoke” had plodded over to the truck, the bird had migrated back up to the vehicle roof once again. The gunner couldn’t push it off with his gun barrel because if he did, he had absolutely no chance to shoot and the other gunner was busy with the dog’s bracemate. But, the quail apparently hadn’t figured on reinforcements arriving and it was no match for the popper on the end of my whip. While it gave up the game, jumped and flew when I smacked the roof of the truck with the whip, unfortunately, so did the heretofore nearly immobile horse and in the process he put a considerable dent in the driver’s side door.  I’ve often wondered what that truck owner told his insurance company.

It doesn’t seem to matter how accomplished a dog may be, they’re still perfectly capable of doing something totally unexpected that will deny you a ribbon. I judged a Labrador running in Master one time that had finished her AFC and was within a couple of points of completing her FC. I always tried to set tests that came as closely as possible, in a test situation, to what you would actually encounter in a real hunt. Apparently the shots and duck calls for the dog running the test right before her were simply too much for her to bear and lit her fuse because she was clearly in a “wired” state when she came out of the holding blind. So wired, in fact, she beat her owner to the line no less than three times. While he finally corralled her and got her to heel, she only came close to sitting when he called for the first bird and on the second one she was absolutely gone. Adding insult to injury, her owner was doing double duty at the test as he was also the marshal for that particular test. When the dog that had been serving as test dog tore a toenail jumping out of his truck, we asked the marshal if the banished Labrador could serve as test dog for the last two series. Naturally, she was steady as a rock and absolutely flawless on both series.

Near the beginning of the 1956 movie Around the World in Eighty Days, Noel Coward’s character tells the character portrayed by Sir John Gielgud, “Never doubt for one instant, Foster, the efficacy of prayer.” That was certainly the case for the owner of a German Shorthaired Pointer that was going for her final qualifying score in Senior in a test I was judging. The dog hunted well and pointed solidly but had been unable to retrieve one bird she pointed because the gunners missed the shot and the bird escaped and on another she pointed, her bracemate had broken free from his handler and “stolen” her retrieve. But, near the end of the brace running time, she found a third bird and as she had done previously, she was rock solid on point. This bird flew strongly away when flushed and the gunners shot it about 35 yards away from the dog. It was a nice, clean kill which meant the set-up for her retrieve was picture-perfect. Sent for the bird, she made a beautiful mark going straight to the spot of the fall and picked it up. She then came barreling back to her owner with the bird safely in her mouth. But, about 10 yards away from her owner, like a reining horse on a slide stop, she hit the brakes and promptly spit the bird out. I swear and my co-judge will also testify to the fact that the dog then stood over the bird and grinned at her owner refusing all of his commands to “fetch it up.” This went on for several minutes while her owner sweated bullets. He even dropped to his knees in order to not seem threatening and in the most wheedling tones begged Sadie to “please pick it up.” Same result except she danced around the bird and poked it a couple of times with her nose. Finally, in jest, he raised his eyes to the heavens and said, “Please, God, tell her to pick up the damned bird.” Whereupon Sadie scooped up the bird, trotted to heel and placed the bird in her owner’s hand.

Never doubt for one instant the efficacy of prayer when dealing with a dog in the field.

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