I used to think that having a ‘tough dog’ meant I’d failed as a trainer. Now I see her as the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.
Owning a fringe breed has some unintended upsides in the world of gundogs. Yes, she is easy to spot in a walk-up line, her ears look fabulous when they’re damp, she is incredibly photogenic, and her retrieves are always done with what we’ve termed the “German Flourish”, but we also have our own set of challenges in a world dominated by Labradors.
Genetically, Hail’s drives to listen and work with me, to retrieve, to swim are not as strong, or well-developed, as they are in her Labrador counterparts. While I knew this going into our field trialing journey, I don’t think I fully understood the implications. I didn’t realise just how frustrating it would be, or how often it would make me question whether we were on the right path. I didn’t realise that owning a dog like Hail would require me to completely rewire how I think about training. She’s what my mentor calls a ‘tough dog’ — and while that used to feel like a bad thing, I’m starting to realise it might be the best thing that ever happened to me.
It’s taken many cups of tea, discussions over a pint at the pub and a lot of soul searching to finally come to the realization that the journey Hail and I are on, is not the one I thought we were on. I think we can still be a competitive team, once we get our shit together, but I doubt that she and I will ever win an All Breeds, and that’s actually ok.
My ever-so-wise mentor took me aside recently and made a comment about Hail being a “tough dog”. It wasn’t a derogatory comment, or meant to be discouraging – just simply his observation. What he meant is that she doesn’t learn how I expect her to, she needs things to be broken down more than I have probably been willing to accept, and that I need to have crystal clear teaching sequences in order to build the foundations of all our key skills. All true statements – but I couldn’t help feel a little gutted that our whole journey is setting out to be this grueling set of challenges I hardly feel prepared to take on.
I will admit, there was a split second where I thought about calling it a day and putting my name down for a pup from the ‘dark side’ (the world of Labradors) but I haven’t succumbed just yet…
This conversation did, however, get me thinking about ‘tough dogs’ and why persevering with them is so important. Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m anything but a quitter, Churchill would be proud, but I want to assure you that this train of thought didn’t just spark because I’m horrendously stubborn. So, this post is my attempt to explain my reasoning why tough dogs make the best dogs.
Tough Dogs are the Greatest Teachers
For Hail and I, the purpose of our journey was never about winning. For us, it is to learn how we can best work together, and who better to teach me than a tough dog. While success with Hail might not be as frequent an occurrence as I would like, when we have a ‘win’, we get a true sense of accomplishment because we know (and feel) like we’ve truly earnt it. I am learning that in my training and trialing, I don’t get anything for free – what a fabulous lesson to learn!
Tough Dogs Teach Us to Focus on Our Own Technique
As I mentioned before, a tough dog needs a clear set of instructions to work from because they aren’t necessarily going to fill in any gaps that you might have accidently left behind. What this really means is that your teaching sequence (how you are teaching or training a behaviour) needs to be well thought out before you start training. This means you have clear criteria for what behaviour is right and what is not. You will know what markers and rewards you are going to use and the timing of delivery of each. It means you will have thought about the steps involved in teaching the end goal behaviour (we often call these successive approximations of an end behaviour). And it will also mean you have thought enough about what could go wrong to know how you are going to handle things when it does – because believe me, it always does with a tough dog!
Tough dogs force you to become a better trainer, because they make you work on your own skills first, otherwise it feels too much like the blind leading the blind. In having Hail, I have had to work on how I prepare for a training session, tidying up my teaching sequences, the timing of my markers and the placement of rewards, how I use different rewards to change her state of mind to motivate her, and how and when I show up, both mentally and physically, for a training session in order for it to be successful.
Tough Dogs Encourage Frequent Self-Reflection
The opportunity to self-reflect is by far the most valuable thing that our tough dogs give to us. A skill I would never have developed to the level that I have in any other aspect of my life… but the benefits of this have been felt in every other aspect of my life. Taking a look at how I was training was really difficult. I’ve had to address my lack of patience, my obsession with perfection, my temper, my body language and my attitude and ability to recover when things haven’t gone according to plan. Hail has, unintentionally, forced me to address some of the worst parts of my nature – not for the faint hearted! I’m still a work in progress (aren’t we all) but I can honestly say that I have become a better person because of training my tough dog.
Along those lines, my tough dog is also teaching me how to handle frustration and disappointment – a large part of any sport. As you can imagine, we lose far more often than we win. It can be hard not to get your hopes up, and I don’t want to say we go out to the field with a defeatist attitude, but Hail reminds me to manage my expectations. We don’t often win a ribbon or end up with a placing, but each time we trial, we manage to do something that we couldn’t in the trial before, and that to me is winning. We are making steps in the right direction, and that is something that we can celebrate.
If you’re like me, and have been battling in silence with a tough dog, please know that you’re not alone. In the heat of the moment, it can be hard to remember all the great opportunities these tough dogs open up for us because they can be so bloody infuriating, but my advice is this… If you find your blood boiling over, stop the session, put the dog away, and make a cup of tea (or crack open a beer). Just take 10 minutes for yourself. I can’t tell you how many times this simple process has saved me from the brink of a full-blown dog trainer meltdown. You can always come back to the session later, or another day. I promise you, your dog isn’t going to mind if you end a session early.
A tough dog may never make it out of the minor grades, and by the time they retire, they might not have many ribbons on the wall at home. This doesn’t mean their journey wasn’t worthwhile. What they give us is the ability to grow, the opportunity to form an unshakable bond and a lifetime of memories. And honestly? As corny as it sounds, on their last day that will be all that matters.
So, who is your tough dog? What lessons have they taught you?
P.S – Feel free to share this post with a friend who has a tough dog and might need some encouragement!
Field Notes & Follies 
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