PS to the previous:

"I know how you feel pal" said Gunner

Bloody Basil January 2014

Apropos of the last tale - I just came across these pictures taken in January 2014 on one of the shoots we work on.  Basil did not have a docked tail. These pictures show what happens to a working dog with a full tail. And Basil's didn't make such a mess as Gunner's - mainly because he was not such a bramble-basher. Basil had his tail docked in February of that year.

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.

Merry meanderings #7 The pals in my life:

"I thort I'd introduce you all to some of the pals who've shared my life and made me the chap I am. I know you all know My boy Bugler and Jaunty and Waifacat so I's not gonna talk about them at all today - 'cept to say they do influence me in many many ways....

Gunner and Tony June 2008

The first pal is Tony; He has been in my life as long as Her and the Big Boss. So that make him my 'first' pal. He did come with them to fetch me from the nice lady who was my first humum.
He is a very larfy man who do make people smile lots, although he is a bit sad sometimes cos his Peggy did have to leave him the year after I did come here.
He help out with the hairy anipals sometimes and do come to see me every week and make a big fuss; he always scratches my bum and then larfs when I wriggle it closer to him for more! I like it when he larfs so I wriggle lots. I sense he is a very good human.

Lancer October 2007

Lancer and Gunner June 2008

Pilot

My next pal was Lancer who the peeps did call The Best Dog in all the World. He lived with them before they moved to this place and was already a well seasoned chap when I did come along. He was very kind. He told me he was a pupski in a tiny house in the middle of a very built up area. He lived with a tiny human and her mummy and they did love him lots but never did take him out much and always did make him stay on a lead; soon he did become very crazy and did run round & round the little house and over all the chairs and things and when the little hupeep did play with him it did make him a little bit angry cos she did always pull his ears. One day the Big Boss and Her did visit and cuddle him and he went away with them. He was so happy then that he always wanted to please them. He taught me to always have good manners and please peeps. He did never go very far away from the hupeeps and She did never need to give him lessons. His favorite thing in all the world was lookin after the quackies: every time one got in the wrong place he would go and fetch it and bring it to Her to put back - he never would give it to anybody else however much they asked him. None of the quackies ever was hurt. He did the same with the chickies but he did like the quackies best. He did suffer with his legs though and had to have operashuns. It because of Lancer that we not allowed up the stairs; he not allowed with his bad legs so we all had to stay with him. Only once in my life did I be allowed to sleep by the hupeeps bed but that another story....
Lancer did go otrb when I was still quite small. I did miss him lots because my other pal who did live here was not one!
That was Pilot. From the moment I arrive here he did tell me what to do, and the older I did get the more he did tell me. He would never play with me and after Lancer did left I had to mind out for myself otherwise Pilot would tell me off. I learned to stay out of his way. But he did teach me impawtant lesson. Never to think all dogs is my pal and to respect their space at all times. This did serve me very well when I was out working with her; I did never go up to strange dogs till they did come to me first.  Mind you, Buster did nearly put me off all dogs - but that another story.......

Pilot with Waifa October 2014

Pilot did spend all his time that he could diggin for, or chasin, rabbits. And he did pinch stuff & bury it. Anythings. Nothin could be left on the floor; it would be buried: boots, keys, watches, clothes, blankets, toys ... everything did get buried. He even buried a duck one day - it still was alive so he did leave its head stickin up out the ground so She could find it..... the peeps is still findin stuff in the garden what Pilot did bury! He was an odd chap. They did love him lots but he was difficult cos he not really loved anyone - except Waifacat. When she did come along she loved him straightaway and she was his best pal till the day he left.

Ritz, Max & Rocco April 2007

Last on my list of pals is the horsies. When I first did come there were three of them. Ritz was a mean chap: he was very quick with his feet and teeth so I soon learned to stay out of his stable. Max was alright though - like Rocco really: I'd go in his stable lookin for all sorts of goodies to eat - food that he'd lost in the straw or particularly tasty bits of poo and when the man came to play with his feet I did get more bits to chew. I did teach this to the Understudies and now we all go in Rocco's stable at night and see what we can pinch. He do get a little bit annoyed and pretend to chase us out or toss his head at us. We not scared tho cos he a softie. For a while after my Bird dog work did finish this year I would go out round the country with him and he not mind a bit, even slowin down to wait for me if I did get left behind. She not have to ask him to do that. He my pal and keep an eye on me all the while. I don't go out with him anymore tho cos I find it hard to run now and do get out of breath - which She say is "not a good thing".  It was fun while it lasted and me and the horsey did enjoy it. He nuzzle me sometimes when I alone with him and let me sleep in his bed. He my pal.
That's it; that's all the pals in my life here. Now you know them all."

Merry meanderings #6 What got up Gunner's nose

Ginger making sure her piglets stayed in the warm 12/2010

Midday and it's minus 10 degrees 12/2010

 The winter of 2010 has already gone down as the coldest in living memory. It is certainly one I shall never forget.
At the time we had about 60 curly coated pigs and piglets. All living outside as usual. Plus 3 horses and about 50 assorted chickens and ducks. They didn't mind the cold one jot. However, for a number of weeks everything outside was frozen - including all the taps and, of course, the duckpond. Which meant every drop of water for all the animals had to be carried - several times a day - from the house. And it had to be reasonably hot otherwise by the time we got to the water bowls outside the water would be literally starting to freeze again. Memorable was just one word to describe the experience.
Gunner and I were in our 2nd season of bushbeating. "They'll never go shooting in this weather" the Big Boss was heard to say - more than once. Pfft, when did a foot of snow ever keep man from his sport??? Thanks to 'drifting' and living on a hill, we couldn't get a vehicle up our drive for a couple of months. Undeterred, Gunner and I would 'walk' up to the village about three quarters of a mile away and get on the beater's bus there or get a lift from the village to whichever shoot we were going to. I'd put liquid parafin on his 'feathers' to deter the snowballs from sticking but he still got pretty clogged up. It did not put him off one bit. If there were birds to be flushed he was ready and waiting to do it! Even at minus 10 degrees with frost and icicles all over him! It was never cold enough to cower him. Between drives he would sit, patient as ever, totally focussed on the landscape ahead of him, waiting for : "Right, nice & steady lads" which was the keeper's signal to go.......

Totally undaunted by the frosticles...... 12/2010

We were at Scamblesby (a little village high on the Wolds) one Saturday in late November - before we got 'snowed  in' - and for the last drive before lunch Gunner's 'beat' was a strip of kale about 30 yds wide and maybe a quarter of a mile long. Kale was one of his specialities: he was a favourite amongst keepers and Beat Captains for his power, persistence and steadiness. Nothing escaped his attention. At the end of the drive dog and handler were well tired on the walk back to the beater's wagon (in this case an ancient horse trailer) to take us back to the yard for lunch. I noticed Gunner sneezed violently a couple of times. When we got to the car he sneezed violently several times. He didn't want his lunch (shock, horror) and sneezed again. "I'll see how he is after lunch" I said to the keeper.
An hour later there was no change. The dog was still sneezing and by now his little eyes were quite red and watery.

What was up the dog's nose

Our (dog) vet doesn't do Saturdays so I rang our large animal vet who do a 24/7 service. Luckily there was no other emergency and the vet on duty agreed to meet us at the surgery. I got there as fast as icy roads permitted with the dog sneezing violently at intervals throughout the journey. However, whilst we waited outside the surgery for the vet to arrive he didn't sneeze once.
"Oh no" I thought "I've called the vet out and now the nose has cleared itself".
When the vet arrived I went inside with him and explained what I thought might have happened. The dog remained sneezeless throughout. "Typical" I thought. Just when I was thinking the vet was thinking I was neurotic Gunner gave the most almighty sneeze.
"Bring him through" said that man.
He looked up Gunner's nose with a light and could see nothing. No matter how he probed:
 "There's nothing" he said...... He switched the light off and looked again. Still nothing.
Light back on. We had a chat about what might be causing the sore nose.
The dog sneezed voilently again. It was like he was trying to sneeze his whole head off.
"I'll have one more look and if we find nothing I'll have to put him out and have a go....."
Lights out; down on his knees (more relaxing for the dog than being on the table he said), the vet gently and carefully probed again. The dog didn't flinch (the handler definitely did).
"Aha!!"
"Yeeess???" I said
"I -think-I've-got-it...." he said slowly, pulling out an impossibly long piece of stuff.
Holding it up he said, with Relish: "Got it - here it is..."
IT  was a four inch long piece of kale stalk - because of the freezing temperatures the crop had snapped instead of bending when the dog worked over it - resulting in this piece going straight up his nostril.... it was embedded almost up to his eyes (no wonder they were running) and virtually invisible.

"I'm so pleased I had one final look" said that man. "it could have stuck up there and caused a very, very nasty infection......"
The dog jumped for joy and I all but hugged the vet in relief.....................
The winter of 2010/11 will live in my memory for a very long time.

Merry Meanderings #5 Little Polly Piglet & other porkies

Mangal, Wurzel and Pepper December 2007

"When I did come to live here I was happy that I was not alone: there were other dogs who lived in the house and looked like bigger Me's and a strange grey not-dog spitty creature with sharp claws who was not at all friendly.  Outside there were all sorts of other chaps who weren't at all like me or the spitty thing.
Amongst these were some big hairies with huge ears & noses. They only played with each other - which was just as well cos I think they might have flattened me - and they were behind a see-thru thing that I couldn't get thru, tho' we often did rub noses.

Mesmerised by Polly and he fellow piglets December 2007

 One mornin' when I did go outside with Her (who must be obeyed) there were lots of smaller-than-me chaps where the big hairies lived. One had hair the same colour as Her. I couldn't take my eyes off it. What was it? She did call it Little Polly Piglet. Which was a much bigger name than mine which I thought was jolly odd since she was smaller than me.
Polly made funny noises and ran round in circles whenever she played with her pals. I'd sit for ages and watch them.
Little Polly Piglet did leave us with a Nice Big Man one day and her brothers and sisters did grow. But that didn't matter cos just when all the little things had growed as big as me another bunch would suddenly appear. The first few bunches stayed close to their mummies - and the Peeps did get quite beside themselves if one 'escaped'. Well, I did soon learn to help it go back to its mummy but after a while the Peeps stopped worryin' about the little ones and they did get through the thing that I couldn't and go all over the place.
That's when I realised that the Peeps did need me. I helped look after the little ones and would tell them stories and show them how to eat their food (No - I was not pinching it) and if they did get too far away from their mummies I would go and fetch them back. Sometimes they did squeal lots when they were running back but mostly they did listen to what I did tell them to do.

"I'll tell you what we're gonna do next" September 2010

When I growed up and became a workin' dog I found I had two jobs. I'd go all over the place with Her and be what she called a "Gundog" but what I actually called me was a "Bird Dog" and when we weren't doing that it was my job to help with the Hairies.

"In you all go back to your mummy" March 2011

I did call them Hairies because when the little ones did grow they did all get very hairy. I thought it odd that the Peeps did never complain about them when they did get muddy, and they very often did get muddy, but when I was muddy I always had to have a rubby dub.
Even when they rolled in the big muddy holes on the hot days, She did not make that horrid loud noise at them like She did at me if  I appeared in front of her with my best muddy jacket on. That's Peeps for you. They are not consistent.

Gunner with his pal Tony,Heckington Show July 2010

"Form an orderly line......." March 2011

Another impawtant job which I only did once a year was Guardian of the Hairies and Greeter of the Public. We'd all go to a strange place with lots of noise, strange peeps and anipals and I would spend all weekend guarding the little hairies and being nice to strange peeps. It was very exhorsting.  But I coped. It did make Her larf the first year cos it was just after I first came to live here and I'd never seen small hupeeps - so every time we met one when we were walkin' around I did have to sit and look at them. Just like when I first saw Little Polly Piglet. It did take us a long time to walk everywhere where She did want to go.
Over the years I have done everythin' and been everywhere with her and The Big Boss and the Hairies. I always do know when the Peeps is going to do Hairies Moving and makes sure I is there to help - it very impawtant to oversee and make sure all goes smoothly.  The Understudies have not been allowed to help because She do say they not have the proper temperament. It is my Very Special Job and I always been proud to be Number One Pig Dog.
Now, since I am a pig dog all year round and a gundog only a few months - why is it Peeps do call me a Gundog ... Didn't I say before, Peeps is inconsistent...... "

Merry meanderings #4 Gunner to Gundog... hare's a tale

 From the moment Gunner looked at me and said "Are you my mummy" I knew he was going to be a gundog.What I hand't a clue about was what that meant!
Not a good start.
We learned every step of the way together. I'd never used a whistle to ask a dog to do something :
"The whistle asks, the voice tells" said my trainer.
We were both in the dark - the dog and I. From the very first lesson though I had visions of winning Field Trials across the country with him.

"He's very steady" said our trainer - almost too steady for a young dog "but enjoy it whilst you can"! I hadn't a clue why he was saying that; I thought the dog was perfect. (you can look back to 2007 in this blog for details of each lesson). If there was a criticism it was always that the handler's instructions were not  'crisp' enough. Well, quite honestly, never having trained a gundog before I was always totally amazed that Gunner did as I asked and whether it took 2 seconds or 2 minutes mattered not to me - he DID EVERYTHING I asked. Always.
Then there was the day he chased a Hare. Well, to be fair to him, his training straddled a shooting season. So having had two lessons before it started his third was after it ended. Of course I kept him up to the mark in the interval - except I hadn't a clue what that was. If he did what I asked I was ecstatic..... I'd read the books, we were fine. He  "err hum" experimented a few times with 'how fast a rabbit can run' but on the whole he was sound. Summarising to the trainer I said "He's 95% there all the time";
"That's a fail then" said that man.
Ever had your hopes dashed?
It was all my fault of course.
If I said "sit" and the dog eventually sat, I thought that was good.
"He's supposed to drop like a lump of lead" said the trainer.
"Sh...."
Well, we worked hard in that lesson and inbetween and the next time we went I could honestly say the dog had improved.  Actually : What I meant was I thought the handler had improved.  By his 4th lesson the handling had definitely got better and Gunner was great at 'left', right' and 'back' retrieving and he could find absolutely anything anywhere.... but, every now and often, if a rabbit popped up off would go the dog - yet again looking to see which was the faster of the two..... So in that 4th lesson we took him to enticing fields with ditches. The dog was great; keeping close and listening to the whistle and even sat - after a lot of loud whistle and hollering - when a pheasant flushed up,..... that was the first. By the third, he'd got the message and sat like a brick as soon as the bird moved. "Brilliant dog" I thought. "OK Got that" he said.
The trainer too was most impressed. By now, we're almost done and the trainer spots hares ears: I tell Gunner to sit and stay; which he does. He hasn't seen the hare.
"OK" says the trainer "Send him across the hares's scent...and as soon as he picks it up you do whatever's necessary to stop him following it"
"OK" says I crossing my fingers and sending Gunner out. And watched in amazement.
Well, he was on that scent within seconds, picked it up and bolted after it as fast as his little legs would carry him. And that was all we saw of him for the next 10 minutes....."Gosh" I thought "For a steady dog, he can't half move"
My faithful trainer set off after the dog - not chasing him cos he never stood a chance there, but making sure he was in the dog's sight all the time, however far back. I meanwhile moved the car. The dog eventually realised it had gone, lost his confidence, returned with tail between legs to where it had been and found a very annoyed trainer. Who berated him in no uncertain terms ("Where's my mum" said the poor dog)
I brought the car round, ignored the dog except to load him in and took him to the rabbit pen! where the "Every time you spot a rabbit you sit" lesson was reinforced. Well, Gunner had got the message by that time.
When I let him off the lead and he saw the first rabbit he froze. "Not going anywhere near that" he said. I told him to "Seek on" .... "In here?" he said "No way"
He never chased a hare or rabbit again after that day. Don't get me wrong, he'll hunt them and sniff them out and many's the time he's "jumped a hare" particularly in the snow (and, that's another tale - in the cold winter of 2010 on one particular drive on one particular shoot he caught a hare Every week we went!!!!)  and brought it to me (for dinner) - but never has he actively chased one....
How often since then have I heard the trainer say - to me and others -
 "I'll never forget that day. When Gunner chased after that hare, I knew he had something about him".....

Merry meanderings # 3 11 July 2015 "Gunnering the furnishings...."

 "When I did read Her last story it did make me laugh. Well, not all of it but the bit where She said I slept that first night without a whimper! I whimpered alright but She didn't hear me! Who was the tired one?
She had a notion that I should spend the dark time away from her in a crate; well, I scuppered that one. I made lots of noise till She let me out and after that She never did shut me in and in exchange I was always very quiet all night long.
She'd give me my bickies and I'd settle down & go to sleep.
Or that's what She thought.
I stopped myself from making a noise by chewing something.  Not just anything:  I was particularly fond of wood and wool.......
She didn't notice for ages. When I was a tiny pup I'd lie on the kitchen floor and chew the wooden chair legs and those bits that go between the legs. I often look at them now and remember the hours I spent doing that. They're all individually altered! What I like to call "gunnered".
When I got a bit bigger and grew a better bounce I'd climb up onto a chair and gunner the wooden arms - we've a few of those to remind me of that time. Personally, I think they're an improvement on the original.

 She must agree because She never did tell me off - or replace them.
Sometimes I see her fondly doing that thing with a cloth and smelly stuff; if She thinks She's improving my handiwork She is way wrong.
The other thing I liked was wool.
After I'd finished my bickies, if I couldn't sleep - or if I woke up in the dark and nobody was around I'd chew a rug. We had lots of wool rugs around the place just begging to be altered. Bein' a spaniel, I'm not too fond of sharp corners on things so I'd just alter those & make them a bit more friendly. Sometimes I'd remove their dangly bits - and sometimes I'd add dangly bits to otherwise very plain rugs.
I can't help noticing that over the years She has removed a lot of my most significant masterpieces but I've put a few bits in this story so's you get a flavour of my toothwork.
She say no other dog in this household ever did make such an impression on things.
Now that is one accolade I am most happy to acknowledge.
One day I gonna leave Her all my Gunnerings to remember me by.  That'll make Her smile.