Hunting
We live in a very rural area where all the male human beings go hunting with their daddies as soon as they turn 16 years old.
Every house keep a pack of dogs for that purpose and go to special classes to teach them the art of hunting...What a waste of time ! And everyone knows it ! For, as the neighbours are quite chatty and very curious, they look at the whippets with envious stares, innocently asking how they behave with game and eventually acknowledging with a sigh that the hunting ban on these dogs is a real shame...
Greyhounds, whippets and any mixed breeds with greyhound blood are not allowed to hunt in our country. Greyhounds tracks are just poor and depressing substitutes. At least, this law protects the breed from any kind of savageries (see how Spanish galgos are pitilessly treated...)
Therefore, we have to train them NOT to hunt...which is an art in itself as well !
Our first whippet trained us quite well :
During the first months of his boisterous life, we enjoyed long and nice walks in the forest naturally assuming that such a small and frail dog would follow his all-knowing and self-confident masters.
Well, our little white lightning didn't think the same way...and explained to us in his way how we were absolutely un-original animals following wide paths whereas there were a myriad of crossing tracks which were meant to be explored.
Well, as a result, either we kept him on leash and came back home with a coughing dog and sore arms or we let him loose and didn't see much of our dog, only trusting his good will to come back.
As we hated waiting in the hoods for terribly long minutes, bellowing his name to squirrels and boars until he raced to us, we asked the vet for advice.
His answer was straight and simple : stress him and scare him. Show him that you are not trustworthy animals, that you can roam anywhere. Hide behind trees, walk backwards...do anything to make him lose you. Then, you can reward him when he finds you.
This was the greatest education tip we've ever had ! Not only did we revise our way of hiking, but Charlie became a super caring (a bit stressed too) dog which had troublesome masters.
Therefore, it's been 5 years that we behave like dogs racing in the undergrowths, and telling the dogs in a very dramatic way when one of us hides somewhere : Where is M ? Go and look for M ?
Well, it's a very nice feeling to listen to twelve paws racing to find you as you are crouching behind a fir, or squatting up on a low branch...
Post Scriptum :
Needless to say that this game (in which we ARE the game), does not totally prevent them from being what they are. They have thus developped a way of hunting which is -almost- fine with us, that is the "three dimension hunt" :
- Charlie still checks every trunk since he discovered the interesting and reddish notion of "squirrels", which is fine with us since he can't climb trees - no harm is done.
- Eliot loves enlarging burrows and checks every holes in the fields in case a nice furry animal would hide, never going really far (which is fine with us too), but sometimes going really deep (which is less fine for the cattle.)
- Elias is another story...As a pup, he was a real dear, following us anywhere, too scared to lose us.
Then, at the age of 6 months, he discovered that he was actually a dog, with a terrific sense of smell and an amazing eyesight. We experienced a few adrenaline shots for if we had forgotten to play hide-and-seek for a couple of minutes, he would annoyingly race to catch an invisible game, leading the pack in his adventure - which was NOT fine with us at all !
Since then, he 's been wearing a tiny bell attached to his collar, playing 'Jingle Bells' to bees and boars.
Every house keep a pack of dogs for that purpose and go to special classes to teach them the art of hunting...What a waste of time ! And everyone knows it ! For, as the neighbours are quite chatty and very curious, they look at the whippets with envious stares, innocently asking how they behave with game and eventually acknowledging with a sigh that the hunting ban on these dogs is a real shame...
Greyhounds, whippets and any mixed breeds with greyhound blood are not allowed to hunt in our country. Greyhounds tracks are just poor and depressing substitutes. At least, this law protects the breed from any kind of savageries (see how Spanish galgos are pitilessly treated...)
Therefore, we have to train them NOT to hunt...which is an art in itself as well !
Our first whippet trained us quite well :
During the first months of his boisterous life, we enjoyed long and nice walks in the forest naturally assuming that such a small and frail dog would follow his all-knowing and self-confident masters.
Well, our little white lightning didn't think the same way...and explained to us in his way how we were absolutely un-original animals following wide paths whereas there were a myriad of crossing tracks which were meant to be explored.
Well, as a result, either we kept him on leash and came back home with a coughing dog and sore arms or we let him loose and didn't see much of our dog, only trusting his good will to come back.
As we hated waiting in the hoods for terribly long minutes, bellowing his name to squirrels and boars until he raced to us, we asked the vet for advice.
His answer was straight and simple : stress him and scare him. Show him that you are not trustworthy animals, that you can roam anywhere. Hide behind trees, walk backwards...do anything to make him lose you. Then, you can reward him when he finds you.
This was the greatest education tip we've ever had ! Not only did we revise our way of hiking, but Charlie became a super caring (a bit stressed too) dog which had troublesome masters.
Therefore, it's been 5 years that we behave like dogs racing in the undergrowths, and telling the dogs in a very dramatic way when one of us hides somewhere : Where is M ? Go and look for M ?
Well, it's a very nice feeling to listen to twelve paws racing to find you as you are crouching behind a fir, or squatting up on a low branch...
Post Scriptum :
Needless to say that this game (in which we ARE the game), does not totally prevent them from being what they are. They have thus developped a way of hunting which is -almost- fine with us, that is the "three dimension hunt" :
- Charlie still checks every trunk since he discovered the interesting and reddish notion of "squirrels", which is fine with us since he can't climb trees - no harm is done.
- Eliot loves enlarging burrows and checks every holes in the fields in case a nice furry animal would hide, never going really far (which is fine with us too), but sometimes going really deep (which is less fine for the cattle.)
- Elias is another story...As a pup, he was a real dear, following us anywhere, too scared to lose us.
Then, at the age of 6 months, he discovered that he was actually a dog, with a terrific sense of smell and an amazing eyesight. We experienced a few adrenaline shots for if we had forgotten to play hide-and-seek for a couple of minutes, he would annoyingly race to catch an invisible game, leading the pack in his adventure - which was NOT fine with us at all !
Since then, he 's been wearing a tiny bell attached to his collar, playing 'Jingle Bells' to bees and boars.