is the safest method. I have a bitch now in my recollection, who frequently lost her master slightly winged birds, (which she had admirably recovered) by dropping them too soon on hearing the report of a gun, or coming on other game,—for off they ran, and fairly escaped, it being impracticable, by any encouragement, to induce her to seek for a bird she had once lifted.
99. This error, I mean that of allowing a wounded bird to regain its liberty, was once beautifully avoided by a pretty black retriever, belonging to Colonel T——y, a good sportsman and pleasant companion, who, not long since, told me the circumstance; and I am glad to be able, on such authority, to relate an anecdote evincing so much reflection and judgment, for I know not by what other terms to characterise the dog’s sagacity.
COLONEL T——Y’S VENUS.—FAN.
100. Colonel T——y’s avocations constantly take him from his neat bachelor’s cottage in Kent, to travel abroad. Shooting in Hungary he once knocked down two partridges at a shot,—one was killed outright, the other only slightly wounded. “Venus” soon hit off the trail of the latter,—quickly overtook it, and, while carrying it to her master, came upon the dead bird. She stopped, evidently greatly puzzled; and, after one or two trials, finding she could not take it up without permitting the escape of the winged bird, she considered a moment,—then, deliberately murdered it, by giving it a severe crunch, and afterwards brought away both together. It is due to the lady to observe that she is naturally as tender-mouthed as her name would imply her to be tender-hearted, and that this is the only known instance of her ever having wilfully injured any game.
101. Sometimes a dog’s sagacity will induce him, however little taught, to assist you in your hour of need; but you must not trust to this. An intimate friend of mine, shooting in Ireland to a pointer bitch that was totally unaccustomed to fetch and carry, but well instructed to seek for a dead bird, killed a snipe. It fell in soft, boggy ground, where he could not get at it to pick it up. After some vain efforts to approach it, he hied on the bitch, who was still steadily “pointing dead,” with “Fetch it, Fan; fetch it.” The bitch seemed for a moment puzzled at such an unusual proceeding, and looked round, inquisitively, once or twice, as if to say, “What can you mean?” Suddenly, my friend’s dilemma seemed to flash upon her. She walked on, took the bird, quite gently, in her mouth, and carried it to where the ground was firm; but not one inch further would she bring it, despite all the encouragement of her master, who now wished to make her constantly retrieve. This was the first and last bird she ever lifted.
102. “Dove,” a white setter, belonging to a near relation of mine, (the left-hand dog in the engraving illustrating 540, is considered extremely like her,) did, spontaneously, that which “Fan” only consented to do after much entreaty. My relation, shooting on the banks of the Forth, killed a partridge that was flying across the river. As he had no retriever with him he almost regretted having fired; but, to his surprise, “Dove” volunteered jumping into the water; made her way to the bird with a sort of steamboat paddle action,—for I verily believe it was the first time she had attempted to swim,—seized it, and, returning with it to the shore, deposited it safely on the bank. She never had retrieved before, and is not particularly good at “seeking dead.”
103. I observed it was something soft which you should teach your dog to fetch. Probably you have seen a retriever taught to seek and bring a stone, upon which, in a delicate manner, the tutor has spit. Does it not stand to reason that the stone must have tended to give his pupil a hard mouth? And what may, later in life, cause him much misery in dashing at a bounding stone, he may split a tooth. Dogs of an advanced age suffer more in their mouths than most of us suspect.
104. Should your pup be unwilling to enter water, on no account push him in, under the mistaken idea that it will reconcile him to the element,—it will but augment his fears (320). Rather, on a warm day, throw some biscuit for him, when he is hungry, close to the edge of the bank, where it is so shallow as merely to require his wading. Chuck the next piece a little further off, and, by degrees, increase the distance until he gets beyond his depth, and finds that nature has given him useful swimming powers. On no occasion will the example of another dog more assist you. Your youngster’s diving can never be of service; therefore throw in only what will float. Otherwise he might have a plunge for nothing, and so be discouraged; and evidently it should be your constant aim to avoid doing anything likely to shake his confidence in the judiciousness of your orders.
A person I know, taught a dog many good tricks,—among others, to extinguish the papers thrown upon the ground that had served to light cigars. A booby of a fellow, very wittily, took in the dog, once, by chucking a red-hot coal to him. “A burnt child,” says the old adage, “dreads the fire:” so does a burnt dog: and, of course, no subsequent encouragement would induce him, ever again, to approach a lighted paper.
TAUGHT TO “FETCH.”
105. If you ever have occasion to teach a dog to dive and retrieve, first accustom him, on land, to fetch something heavy, of a conspicuous colour. When he brings it eagerly, commence your diving lesson by throwing it into the shallowest parts of the stream. Only by slow degrees get to deep water, and let your lessons be very short. Never chuck in a stone. The chances are twenty to one that there are several at the bottom not very dissimilar, and the young dog ought not to be subjected to the temptation of picking up one of them in lieu of that he was sent for. Should he on any occasion do so, neither scold nor caress him; quietly take what he brings, lay it at your feet, to show him that you want it not, and endeavour to make him renew his search for what you threw in; do this by signs, and by encouragement with your voice, rather than by chucking stones in the right direction, lest he should seek for them instead of searching for what you originally sent him.
106. Some teachers make a young dog fetch a round pin-cushion, or a cork ball, in which needles are judiciously buried; nor is it a bad plan, and there need be no cruelty in it, if well managed. At least it can only be cruel once, for a dog’s recollection of his sufferings will prevent his picking up the offending object a second time. Others, after he is well drilled into “fetching,” and takes pleasure in it, will make him bring a bunch of keys. There are few things a dog is less willing to lift. Most probably they gave him some severe rebuffs when first heedlessly snatching at them; and the caution thereby induced tends to give him a careful, tender mouth. A fencing master, I knew in France, had a spaniel, singularly enough for a Frenchman, called “Waterloo,” that would take up the smallest needle.
107. When your dog has picked up what you desired, endeavour to make him run to you quickly. Many who teach a dog to fetch, praise and encourage him while he is bringing what he was sent after. Clearly this is an error. It induces the dog to loiter and play with it. He thinks he is lauded for having it in his mouth and carrying it about. Reserve your encomiums and caresses until he has delivered it. (see 153.)—If you walk away, the fear of your leaving him, will induce him to hurry after you. Let a dog retrieve ever so carelessly, still, while on the move, he will rarely drop a bird.
BROUGHT TO LIFT WEIGHTS.
108. Dogs that retrieve should be gradually brought to lift heavy, flexible things, and such as require a large grasp, that they may not be quite unprepared for the weight and size of a hare; otherwise they may be inclined to drag it along by a slight hold of the skin, instead of balancing it across their mouths. Thus capacious jaws are obviously an advantage in retrievers.
The French gamekeepers, many of whom are capital hands at making a retriever (excepting that they do not teach the “down charge”), stuff a hare or rabbit skin with straw, and when the dog has learned to fetch it with eagerness, they progressively increase its weight by burying larger and larger pieces of wood in the middle of the straw: and to add to the difficulty of carrying it, they often throw it to the other side of a hedge or thick copse. If the dog shows any tendency to a hard mouth they mix thorns with the straw.
TAUGHT TO “FETCH.”
109. I ought to have mentioned sooner, that you should commence teaching a puppy to “fetch,” by shaking your glove