This last two weeks have been rather exciting in our household. Josh and I had the privilege of attending a training seminar run by Kevin Cheff – The Retriever Coach.
This has been an amazing experience on so many levels, largely due to the fact that we rarely get professional trainers of his caliber visit little ‘ol New Zealand.
What’s more, I had a handling spot with Hail in the Fundamentals section which has done wonders for my confidence and skill as a hander. It has shown me the things I need to refine in my handling mechanics to help Hail and I have better conversations at the peg. Zed (Josh’s dog) also got his time to shine as a demo dog for one of the steps in Kevin’s program.
As you can imagine, the main topic of conversation in our house since has been dog training. Nerdy but brilliant. I always dreamed of finding a man that could put up with my dog life. Josh takes it one step further by being equally as invested. I can’t believe my luck!
There have been lots of standout moments for us over the last few weeks, both from the seminar and from our subsequent conversations around the dinner table… sitting on the couch, driving in the car, and while brushing our teeth… and I’ll likely make each into it’s own blog post over the next few weeks.
But, one conversation that’s stayed with me is…
The Importance of Looking Back… Often!
Josh and I have both been guilty of being so future focused that we forget just how far we’ve come. And I know we’re not alone.
It happens so easily. Gundog training has so many different elements that all seem so essential. Out of a desire to want to get out into the field, you become so fixated on a goal or some imaginary training deadline that you’ve set for yourself. You get tunnel vision and you seem to focus on all the stuff you and your dog can’t do yet. You forget to celebrate the little milestones that you’re reaching along the way. That is, the things you have managed to achieve and the immense difference those things have made to your lives together.
Josh and I, both have dogs at very different stages of their training journey. Zed is coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t in charge, and that in order to get his advantage he needs to channel his drive through Josh. Hail and I are now at the stage where we’re starting to refine our practice and are working towards casting.
Despite both being at different stages of the process, reviewing what we’ve achieved so far is still a valuable exercise. I think it’s important to explain why looking back and reflecting is such an important part of any dog training practice (or any life practice, for that matter).
Why Don’t We Look Back?
I’ve alluded to the fact that looking back is hard to do when we’re in the trenches, trying to find our way to the other side. That hyper focus on not quite being where we’d like to be can be a difficult feeling to shake.
I think the other thing that’s coupled with this that makes reviewing our past work harder is that looking back is often openly criticised. We’ve all heard mantras such as “That’s where you’ve been and not where you’re going”. I get it. In some situations, especially if you’re trying to heal from something, ruminating can be an unhelpful practice, but what we’re talking about in dog training is not ruminating.
That might not be an important clarification to make, but it’s certainly helped me make the distinction between feeling sorry for myself when I’ve made a mistake in my handling versus reflecting on what went wrong so I could make some improvements for the next time I trained. See the difference?
I’m now challenging myself to look back on my journey more often. My hope is that, with some practice, I will get better at spotting the jumps in our progress. I’ll get better at finding moments in our training history that I can be proud of. I’ll notice more of the small but highly impactful accomplishments that we’ve had along the way that have gotten us to this stage of growth.
Building Momentum
So now we know that looking back is to be encouraged, what benefits are we likely to see or experience as a result of bringing this practice to our lives?
Well, taking a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come gives you the opportunity to feel proud. It’s motivating to see the distance you’ve already travelled and the challenges you’ve already managed to overcome.
There’s a reason that kids love a sticker chart! Seeing all those little wins, those daily accomplishments that stack up, builds momentum for where we’re going. It’s what drives us forward. Celebrating the small things is key because we all know that they add up to the big things.
Zed is a great example of this for us. He has been a bloody tough dog. And as Josh’s first gundog, he’s really had his work cut out for him. To his credit, Zed has a very sweet nature. He’s great with people and other dogs of all sizes but his size and boisterous nature made him a real handful through his puppyhood. So much so that we had genuine concerns about whether he’d be able to stay in our family because we had a real fear that he would hurt someone by accident when he got overstimulated, which happened a lot.
About eight months ago things really came to a head.
Josh and I sat down and had a pretty frank chat about things and we both agreed that we needed to make some changes to how Zed got to experience the world if he was going to be a functioning member of our family.
That’s when the hard work started and Josh changed his approach. We spent every evening driving to our local park to train Zed. Some days, his behaviour was so reactionary we didn’t even make it out of the carpark. He’d practice getting in and out of the car, and that was it. Over time, this grew into longer sessions where he made it to the grass and got to practice his obedience. In the winter months, we event went to the extent of completing this in the local supermarket car park. However small each win might have seemed at the time, we kept up the momentum.
Fast-forward to the recent Kevin Cheff seminar. Zed was able to work in front of a group of people and sit quietly while discussions were had. That was a very proud moment for Josh. He helped him become that. He helped Zed learn to regulate himself.
Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t happen overnight. We changed tact, we changed tools, and we changed training programs.
But there was something very special about seeing him sit there, with a clam state of mind, ready to work for a complete stranger.
In the car on the way home, almost simultaneously, Josh and I both looked at each other and cracked up thinking about all those nights we spent driving to the park and supermarket car parks all those months ago. That life, and the stress that this dog used to cause, was just a memory now.
He’s become a fun dog to hang out with. He gets to go places that we could never have taken him to before. He gets all the same freedoms that the other dogs get when we’re out. It’s just such a contrast to what life was… and we’d missed the opportunity to celebrate it until now!
It made me realise; if we don’t look back, we miss the quiet victories that show us just how far we’ve come already.
Field Notes & Follies 
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