Spring Woodcock: The Quiet Period and Pointing Dog Training

Some say the sweetest springtime sounds come from wild turkeys. As many turkey hunters have experienced, real turkeys aren’t always the ones producing that cacophony of yelps. Oftentimes, on crowded small parcels of land, one may be seduced by the sounds emanating from what turns out to be a hungry hunter, not a hen on the prowl. Hunters using turkey calls have tricked birds and humans alike for years.

Bird dog training at its core is behavior modification reliant upon catching your dog in the thought process and being able to read their emotions. Doing so allows us to predict behaviors before they occur, thereby maximizing the potential for learning. Also, the character of the dog at that moment and the behaviors they are exhibiting dictates the amount of pressure required to gain compliance. Pressure comes in various forms. Understanding pressure and how to use it is entirely another article in itself. Basically, pressure can be generated in a variety of ways. Food pressure is when the dog feels internal pressure to perform for treats. The leash and collar is an example of physical pressure. Standing in the proximity of your dog places spatial pressure on them and using corrective tones places verbal pressure on them. Social pressure can even come from the competition of using other dogs.

Have you ever hunted over a dog with a sixth sense for finding birds? Perhaps the dog had a higher-than-average drive to push out to find game. Or maybe it was highly intelligent and sought the most productive cover. Its exceptional nose could’ve been dialed in. Regardless of the attribute, it must have had a cooperative temperament, trusted its handler’s leadership, and would follow them to the ends of the world.  The culmination of all of these characteristics creates a legendary hunting dog. However, the dog knows how to search for a cover in a manner that leaves little opportunity for birds to be missed outperforms all other dogs.  Developing this level of teamwork starts with a dog willing to hunt for and with you. For me, this begins through teaching it to quarter with the long lead starting at a young age.

The Ojibwe, the indigenous people of the Great Lakes region, tell a story of how they were starving and aninaatig (sugar maple) fed the tribe with syrup (zhiiwaagamizigan) that gushed forth from its wood. Soon, the people took the gift of sugar from the Creator for granted. They lay under aninaatig all day and just let the syrup drip into their mouths.  One day, the trickster Nanabozho saw this and poured water into aninaatig, diluting the syrup into watered-down sap. He wanted the Ojibwe to work for the blessing of maple syrup and make them truly appreciate it. Today, this is why it takes about 40 gallons of sap and a lot of effort to make a gallon of syrup.  

The instant it takes to drop your car keys from your fingertips to the floor is all the time you have to relay a message to your dog that they are a good dog or a bad dog. This is all the time you have to tag a behavior. Anything after that simply leads to confusion and resentment. When you are reward-based bird dog training using food, toys or praise, you must be prepared to reward or correct the dog the very instant it presents either a desirable or undesirable behavior. This requires you to be very attuned to your animal. Being able to read and recognize when they are in the thought process of making a good or bad decision is key. For example, when we teach the sit command on a recall (the dog returning to you), we shape the sit through tagging then rewarding the dog the moment it begins to sit (doesn’t need to be perfectly aligned) and slowly building accuracy over time. It’s very common for handlers to over-command, and when the dog finally performs the action correctly, they are left scrambling for a treat and the reward is now too delayed to be of value towards learning.

A black slash slices over red-lined eyes, streaks down the breast, and connects at the keel as it cuts across the body of a flashy chukar partridge. Gray-blue feathers blend seamlessly into shades of dust-brown across its breast and back, but not its sides, where chukar apparently took some inspiration from zebras. Besides pheasants, chukars are arguably the most exotic-looking game birds in the United States. These birds have something in common: they didn’t evolve here. Chukar are not native to North America. This bird’s home range spans the Middle East and Asia, including Turkey, Jordan, Tehran, Iran, Kyrgyzstan, Nepal, and Mongolia. In their native range, these birds have a penchant for steep, rocky outcroppings in arid landscapes. Their preference for rugged places translates to their North American range as well. Since its introduction to the United States decades ago, chukar have become an iconic North American upland game bird, and those who hunt them are lovingly referred to as “not right in the head.” Let’s take a gander at this species’ life history, habitat preferences, and robust hunting culture.

The afternoon sun sat low through the thick cover. It glistened off the saturated ground, small patches of snow still pushing back against the oncoming spring. The sound of my Wirehaired Pointing Griffon’s bell came sharply through the undergrowth, occasionally muted by the splash of water as Grim worked his way back and forth. We had been through this cover multiple times in the past week with no signs of life in the way of game birds. My mind wandered, thinking of how exciting it will be to have American woodcock back on our doorstep after their migration from wintering in the South.

July is an exciting month for us, as it signals the approach of our shooting season, which starts on 12 August—known as The Glorious Twelfth—with the opening of the red grouse season. My husband Ronnie and I live on the northwest coast of Scotland with our ten Hungarian Wirehaired Vizslas. They are a huge part of our lives—they share our house and our sofas and are our family. The breed has a lovely temperament and a boundless willingness to please, making them a joy to live and work with. Ronnie and I have been married for 32 years and during this time we have had many working dogs including spaniels, Labradors, retrievers, pointers, and an odd assortment of terriers. We finally settled on the Hungarian Wirehaired Vizsla breed and have not looked back! It all began nine years ago when I decided that I wanted my own dog to train, work, and compete with; now I have four Hungarian Wirehaired Vizslas that I’m proud to call my own.

A short while ago, I spoke with a behaviorist friend of mine, Matt McKenny, who also owns versatile hunting dogs. I specifically asked him his thoughts about his relationship with his dog and how behavioral science contributes to his ability to work with, train and calm his dogs. He provided an in-depth perspective of how we use science knowingly — or not — in our training. If you have spent any time in the dog world you are very familiar with the fact that there are many strong debates about using bait. People on either side of this debate are very passionate about on which side of the fence they find themselves. This debate isn’t so much about using edibles as it is about people wanting to feel good about their training, sometimes ignoring the outcome. Even within our hunting circles, there are some who avoid the use of edibles whatsoever, and those who rely too much on them. Now in fairness, we all want to feel good about our bird dog training. I’m just as human as anyone else in making my fair share of mistakes. But when we understand the process of learning, whether it’s human learning or canine learning, hopefully we’ll be more attuned to what processes work and why they work.

During my time at Deerfield Elementary School in southern Wisconsin, my fourth-grade teacher taught us about Wisconsin’s geological history. I recall learning about glaciers, the formation of our local drumlins, and how unique the unglaciated driftless area is when it comes to midwestern landscapes. However, I don’t recall Mr. Meyer teaching my class about the endangered sandy pine barrens located in the northwestern part of the state.  This habitat type was also formed by glaciers, although they had the opposite effect. This expanse of poor-quality, sandy soils is exactly where the glaciers scraped across the surface of what is now Wisconsin. Post-ice age, pine barrens covered 2.7 million acres in this region. Sadly, interconnected barrens broken up by young stands of jack pine are difficult to come by these days. In fact, pine and oak barrens are a globally threatened habitat type. “Red, white, and jack pine as well as oak and some aspen were present in historic pine barrens, but in patches, not large swaths of forests,” said Mike Amman, the Bayfield County forester and the Vice President for the Wisconsin Sharp-tailed Grouse Society. Amman continued, saying that reforestation created dense stands of red and jack pine, which were and are managed for timber production. However, the tree density and sheer total acreage of these areas came at the expense of the historically open barrens. Barrens-related species’ populations have fallen drastically, including the sharp-tailed grouse.