Trust your dog
2002 National Champion Miller’s True Spirit
Many years ago, a friend and I attended an all age field trial held near Mortlach, Sask. A highlight for me was riding the brace when Ferrel Miller handled his 2002 National Champion, a liver-and-white pointer male named Miller’s True Spirit.
Ferrel is well-known in the bird dog field trial world. He was highly successful as an amateur handler who also bred a string of mostly white pointers. He was honored by the sport when he was elected to the Field Trial Hall of Fame in 1993. But his penchant for bending ownership rules and falsifying pedigrees for dogs he bred cost him dearly. Ferrel was banned for life from competing in American Field trials and from registering any dogs in the Field Dog Stud Book.
Ferrel Miller and CH Miller’s Happy Jack (from dogsanddoubles.com)
The brace broke away in late morning on a course of sparse, slightly rolling, short-grass fields and cattle pastures, bordered by brushy tree lines.
Twenty minutes into the heat, as we all passed through a barbed wire pasture gate, True Spirit stopped. He was directly ahead about 30 yards, but on the opposite side of the fence. We rode parallel to the fence line and stopped to watch. The other handler and his judge continued across the pasture.
True Spirit stood amid that short grass—little cover for a bird—but Ferrel dismounted, crawled through the fence strands and did his best to flush. The birds weren’t there. Ferrel walked back to his dog and released him to relocate. True Spirit moved cautiously down the tree line 50 yards and stopped again.
This time Ferrel vigorously and thoroughly kicked the grass far in front of True Spirit in his attempt to flush the birds. But again, nothing flew. And again, Ferrel tapped his dog to release him.
By now, the gallery had ridden off to catch up to the other handler and judge, which left only Ferrel, his judge and me.
We watched True Spirit continue to work the tree line. About 60 yards ahead, almost to the last of the scrubby trees, True Spirit pointed. Ferrell hustled to flush and, this time, a nervous covey of Hungarian partridge lifted about 40 yards out.
Ferrel fired his gun, walked back to the still-composed True Spirit, patted him a couple times on the side and then led him through the barbed wire fence and released him.
As Ferrel mounted his horse, he turned to us, smiled knowingly and said, “Trust your dog.”
Trust your dog. That’s a great line. What does it mean?
Trust in a bird dog means the handler intimately knows the dog and is confident in its ability to do its job. When the dog smells game and points, the handler trusts there are birds. When the dog makes a far cast around some distant objective, the handler trusts the dog will check back or be found on point. When another dog is on point, the handler trusts his dog will back. And yes, when the dog is working running birds, the handler trusts it will get them pointed.
But trust in your dog doesn’t just happen. Trust is earned by the dog but created by the handler. Trust starts when the dog is a puppy.
The puppy needs to be developed properly, exposed to different situation and allowed to exercise judgement. Trust grows by letting the dog make mistakes without constant fear of reprisal. Trust matures by consistent expectations, more exposure and coaching. Trust does not develop with micro-management, reprimand and intimidation.
Ferrel trusted his dog. Do you?
~ Written by Jerry Kolter
