During our hunt yesterday morning, Cedar broke twice which is something she never does and on a couple of retrieves she even reached back into the bad side of her memory brain and thought it would be nice to perform her little ‘Indian Dance’ when getting to a live duck, which I thought I had cured. The dance was her coming out of the water, dropping the duck and jumping around it. I must say I took all this well and simply realized we had some brushing up to do… but it made me think.

I said to Eddie, “You know, we ask our dogs to do everything perfectly all the time. No slip ups. No excuses. Never. But no matter how well trained a dog, especially when owned by an amateur or an average hunter, if we get 75% ‘perfection’ we are probably doing extremely well and should be very content.”  Those words proved prophetic as this morning played itself out.

Consider this: Today (as on all hunts) I demanded Cedar sit still and quiet in the cold mud.  Do not get fidgety.  Do not spontaneously get up and roam around.  When we shoot, do not move.  And when we drop a bird that you see fall, do not break until I give you permission. I demanded she get to every fall as quickly as possible, take direction smartly and attentively, pick up each bird, deliver it to my side, and hold it until I take it from her.

For Cedar to get to this point of ability and expectations, she practices a gazillion hours without complaint. In fact, she usually begs me for more. Her only goal is to please me even when I have her do something over and over until she gets it right. This is true of most good gun dogs. My point is that on this day, and in reality on most hunts, she does most things extremely well; a few things a little poorly; and sometimes a couple of things that keep me awake nights. But, for the most part she does what I ask her to do and does it very well and quite efficiently.

Now for the flipside of that hunting coin; Cedar’s expectations of me. What if Cedar was in charge?  What if she could lay out a training program and hunting scenario for me so that I would be ready to be ‘perfect’ every time without exception as I apparently expect her to be?  What would she demand of me?

Would she demand that I (and everyone else in the group) practice my shooting year-round so that even on those mornings when we have limited opportunities we get to play the game as it is meant to be played?

Would she demand me to stay in good physical shape so that when the hunting got challenging I was capable of creating the right situation to give her a chance to be successful?

Would she demand me to give up even more of my time and energy to train her so she knows exactly what is expected of her?

Would she demand that at all times – whether in sun, snow or wind-driven rain, that I (and everyone else in the group) sit quietly in the blind and not shift my position, not get up to pee every half hour, not search my bucket clumsily for whatever, not talk loudly, not stand up to stretch, and not do all those things that flare birds?

Would she demand that I (and everyone else in the group) practice my duck and goose calling for hours and hours during the off season so I would be ‘perfect’ at the right time?

Would she demand me to pay even closer attention all the time to everything she does afield because she accepts the fact that she needs my guidance and direction?

Would she demand that I shoot and kill every time so her retrieves are made easier and realistic?

Would she demand that I never get cranky, tired, or bored and give up on a hunt too early as I demand she not give up on a retrieve prematurely?

Would she demand that I do all the things to prevent screwing up her hunt or enjoyment even though she can’t express her frustration?

I think you get the picture, as I did, while thinking about this stuff since yesterday. And the only conclusion that can be drawn is that for many hunters and their well trained dogs, the dog is far more ‘perfect’ much more often, than we will ever be.