Read what some of our clients have to say about our dogs...

1-8-2004

Hello all!  As a follow-up to our conversations about dog walking on the San Gabriel River, this is the latest chapter in an adventure covering, now, 10 years plus.  At any rate, here it is.
 
As you know, I consider the loss of Pip as a hunting companion a major catastrophe.  He has been the most steadfast and faithful friend, listener, gunning critic, alarm clock and hunting instructor I have had the pleasure to have been accepted by.   That the hunting ingredient of this relationship has been irreparably changed was made definite today. 
 
For several weeks, now, I have been considering  - as he improved more and more from his leg surgery - giving Pip a go at the wild quail inhabiting the walking trail and rough, heavy cover that winds along the river and is isolated between the river and the Vulcan rock materials operations that are so extensive here.  Today was the day. 
 
We secured the truck at the public parking area fronting the bicycle
trail and began our outing, with Pip free to proceed as he had so many time in the past.  He immediately proved he remembers all the moves, but no longer has the faculties required to execute them!  He cleared the parking lot curbing with a leap, accelerating down the wash side wall that separates  the lot from the trail - only to end on his face at the bottom.  Hey, OK.  Let's get on with it.  Up he gets, climbs the opposite wall and gets on with the program.  Prime goal - knowing this is the quail country he loves so much - is to find birds!  Into the brush; push through here.  No?  Push through there.  No birds?  Keep at it .  Ahhh! there they are .  Up they go. . .  What , no shot - must be practice.  Down this wash side.  Damn, on my back, again, crashing through the brush.
 
This went on through three finds with a couple of spectacular crashes included in the process.
 
Finally, I asked him to heel  - seldom do I order him to completion anymore -with  which he gladly complied, and began the trip back to reality, with only minor side trips to check out  interesting smells.
 
Result?  Birds up,  a tired, happy Pip with obvious crash evidence - dust, burrs in hair, greasewood sap and a very painful leg.  Most of all, much unwanted proof that his hunting days are going to have to be very, very limited.  Welllll, maybe a chance or two to do dove pick-up!
 
Tell Mike hello and let me know how his Speck is doing.

1-28-2004

Paul and Vicky,

I wanted to write you a short note to let you know how pleased Dawn and I are with Abby.  She is like no dog that I have ever owned (hunting or cattle) smart, energetic, attentive and a full-time love.  I have been working with her sparingly through the winter and she is a great student in spite of my shortcomings as the teacher.  I can tell you without a doubt that cockers will be in our home from this day on.

I have given your name and website to a few people here in Montana who have expressed an interest in cockers.  I hope you hear from them.  And, if convenient, please e-mail me when Paul's shows are to air on ESPN and OLN.  I taped the OLN show in November and have given the tape to some of my friends to watch.  Thanks so much for giving us the opportunity to buy Abby and your input on training tips.  Hope you have a rewarding 2004 and all is well with you both.

Joel

9-18-2001

Vicky & Paul,

Because of Merlin, hardly a day goes my without my feeling grateful to the two of you. He is a daily delight, providing companionship, wonder and inspiration constantly. Already, he's filled Carol's and my memory banks with a multitude of images and memories. From a first walk around our point, trundling underfoot half the way and carried, half asleep the other half, to an hour and a quarter run last Saturday (the longest I've run through woods and fields in quite a long time) which tired me, but not him.

He arrived home fresh and tore around the house in search of Carol. He finds either of us almost instantly when asked "Where is _____", knows what "upstairs", "downstairs", "kennel", "stay" (as in don't go through that door) and of course, "a walk" mean. I can't wait to have you meet him again, but of course I'm sure to you he'll just be another of your typical cockers!

When we first got him, I took him kayaking and he climbed out of my lap and promptly fell in the water, swam back, was dragged aboard, tried again, fell in, climbed out again, and then balancing as he walked toward the bow on the narrow, slippery fiberglass fell in yet again. After falling in several more times, he learned to balance and walk to the bow where it was about three inches wide, back up half-way, turn around, and return to my lap.

He's persistent and fearless. A couple of months later, returning by canoe from a walk in the hills on the far side of the lake, the bats began flying by us out of the dusk. To get higher and closer to them, he climbed onto the little triangular section of the canoe at the very tip of the bow and sat, balancing there, as I paddled.

He is now flushing everything that flies, watching ducks flushed from the pond intently until out of sight over the lake, and eagerly looking up when he hears approaching geese honking. In the house, where he is whenever we're home, he learned the rules quickly and managed to get through the worst of the teething period without doing any more damage than taking a single small piece out of one of my very old loafers. Goodness knows he did quite a job on the two towels that were his and an assortment of balls, cardboard, sticks and other assorted objects that were also designated as "his." Even after washing, he always managed to keep straight which towels belonged to him and which didn't. Of course, it didn't take long for the difference to be obvious!

He comes, hups, goes back, and switches direction on voice and whistle commands. I haven't done any formal work on birds, of course; nonetheless, he happily retrieved a cardinal that hit one of our windows and caught on the ground two pigeons, neither of which were harmed. I also have a vivid memory of a third pigeon, climbing rapidly, which he launched himself of the ground after and missed by inches.

I'm looking forward to working him on birds. He's not quite through cutting all his teeth and continues to improve at using his nose, so I'm not in any hurry. I was building a second pigeon coup this weekend, and he clambered about on the floor joists like a steel worker (albeit only a foot above the ground). I hunted a couple of my springers on grouse and woodcock their first fall, and they did wonderfully, but I'm going to take things more slowly with him so that the initial bird work is more predictable. What indicators do you use to determine when to start working a pup on live birds?

Once again, thanks for Merlin. I've been meaning to send you a few photos, but haven't gotten around to it yet. Perhaps soon. My best to both of you.

Hope the trials have gone well. Saw Paul's name recently in one of the winners lists.

Best, Dick Bend