Merry meanderings #8 The dog's tale

Gunner October 2007

 This is a little tale about the dog's tail. Some of you will have read the original story which I published in this blog on 13/12/08. However, since its fate is key to our relationship it bears repeating.
The law in Scotland bans the docking of tails. Full stop. No concessions for working dogs. So Gunner came to us with a full tail. Pretty it was too. And very waggy. The sound of his tail beating on the floor in the snug was the last thing I heard as I went up the stairs at night, and the first thing each morning. "Thump, thump, thump" in double time. I couldn't imagine ever not hearing it!

Bringing me another large stone March 2008

 He started his career as a working dog on 3 October 2008. What a wonderful day that was. He was a little overwhelmed by it all but he settled and didn't put a foot wrong. We were out twice a week that first season and he soon blossomed and quickly built a reputation as the gamekeeper's favourite.
I can remember how chuffed I was. My own little star really was The Bestest Gundog.
But by 23 November I reported in this blog about the trauma he was experiencing. Although he was happy to do his work, inbetween drives he cringed and cowered. Because of his sore tail. By then, at the end of the first drive on each day's bushbeating his flanks were red from blood of his tail. I can still hear some of the guns' comments:
 "Your dog's a bit of a mess!";  "Your dog seems to have wounded himself".
"No" I'd say, "it's just his tail."  I was not embarrassed but it certainly made me feel like a very callous person. I tried slathering it with baby oil before we left home in the hope the hedgerow thorns would 'slip' across it. No good. The vet tried shaving the end so that it didn't get caught up in the undergrowth. No good. In fact that just made matters worse by removing any protection he did have.  He started hesitating about coming with me on working mornings, poor love.
The crunch finally came one morning; I told him to "seek on" at the start of the first drive. He lowered himself to his belly - and did not move. I made my excuses to the Keeper and took the poor dog home. The vet recommended resting him for a week or so. I did. The tail stopped being sore. I took him back to work. Start of first drive - same thing again. "That's it" I said to myself.

And thre's the tale  July 2009

I had two options: retire the dog or have the tail amputated. The former was out of the question: he had proved beyond a shadow of doubt that "work" was his thing; it totally transformed him. He really was a steady ("it must be nice to always know where your dog is" one of the Guns said to me very early on in the dog's career) , reliable hunting machine. There was nothing he would not do, no cover he would not go into - he did not stop till the day was totally done! And him too sometimes.
So amputation it was.
A vets can only do the op. if they can prove without shadow of doubt that it is necessary. Luckily we had plenty of evidence  - my photos and the vet's attendance records. A vet can actually be struck off the register for performing the op. without hard and fast evidence!
The op. took place on 5 December 2008. I left the vet with heavy heart. Despite the pain he'd been feeling I felt sure Gunner would be traumatised at the loss of his tail. I felt sure he would blame me when it was no longer there. I dreaded the weeks of pain he might go through till it healed.
Well, that was all wasted worry. Yes, the dog was sore for a couple of days but the fact that for the first (and last) time in his life he was allowed to sleep upstairs next to the big bed seemed to counter that! He did look to see where the tale wasn't but only once. He never licked or aggravated it in any way. Didn't need to wear the cone of shame! By the 3rd or 4th day he was running around without a care in the world. He looked at me as if to say:
"Took you a while to sort out what I wanted didn't it?"
"Tail? What Tail? Thank goodness it's gone".
From that day onwards, he literally never looked back! Five weeks later he was back to work and was happy as a pig in muck. If anything he worked twice as eagerly, as if making up for lost time.
"Now he looks like a proper dog" said the gamekeeper on the first day back. That seemed to be the consensus - a real working dog does not sport a tail.  Seemed to be Gunner's view too. I might have missed the thumping on the floor but that little stumpy tail wags twice as fast as the full tail ever did...

Waiting for the drive to start 01/2009

Never again would I put a dog with a full tail in the beating line. For picking up or peg work it's probably OK but bushbeating is, as the word suggests, a far more vigorous activity - especially where brambles and hawthorn hedgerows are involved.

Waiting for the drive to start 01/2010

Despite other dogs suffering the same fate as Gunner and a number of petitions over the years, the Scottish law has yet to be amended.
What's that phrase about the law being an Ass?
I rest my case M'Lud.