Signs of progress

By murphydogs

After a month of rain, this is the wettest June in a decade and the weeds in our pasture are literally waist-high. It’s great for working on marking and blind retrieves, and I’ve found that not only Sophie and Dakota, but little Elvis can mark quite well.

Last night I worked each of the dogs separately, beginning with Elvis who still hasn’t graduated from the wing-on-a-string. Last week when I worked with them in the back yard, he retrieved about 1 out of every 4 bumpers; the other times, he plopped down on the bumper and began chewing it.

The duck wing that I had been using with Elvis was pretty well mangled so I replaced it with a Pheasant wing. There were only certain areas in the pasture with weeds short enough for me to train the little guy. Last week, he plowed into a stand of weeds that didn’t give, and threw him backwards.

He’s got a great nose on him and was able to mark the bumper very well. When he couldn’t find it, I tugged on the string which rustled the weeds and he pounced like a cat. Our training also included a little tracking. I would throw the bumper into the weeds and then pull it a few feet from where it landed. Half the time Elvis tracked in the wrong direction, whereupon I would tug on the string to get his attention. For the times he was able to track, I found that he could track the bumper about 6 feet.

After working with Elvis, I spent some time with Sophie and she did well on both single and doubles. It was fun to watch her work, with only the tip of her tail visible above the weeds.

Then came Dakota’s turn and by now she had worked herself into a frenzy. I never even considered using two bumpers with her, and considered it a big challenge with just one bumper. I worked primarily on keeping her from breaking and that was pretty much a full-time job.

Just after we began, Dakota’s collar caught some weeds and she nearly did a summersault, losing her collar in the process. The rest of her training consisted of tossing the bumper and while she was retrieving it, beating the weeds in search of her collar. I still haven’t found it which now makes about four collars that she’s lost.

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