doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com Aging bird dogs

How do you guys handle your aging bird dogs? My pointer is 15 and just lays around, that is untill I put the collar on him, his body and his tail gets all excited. I dont hunt him, but I do take him out to the field. After the hunt is done (with much younger dogs) I let him out and he trys his best to run (walks fast) but i swear pride and happiness just swells out of him. Is it just me or do others see this with their old dogs?

it is what he is meant to do.....give him an extra hug and that a boy...

My pup is getting on in years and walks around the house like Eeyore most of the time. Some how he knows when its time to hunt and there is no way you are getting out of the house without him. When he is in the field he is a completely different dog. I just make sure and take it easy and dont let him push himself to hard. If that means shorter hunts so be it I think its a small price to pay to make him happy!

How do we handle them?, the same way that you do, my Wirehair got a little slower, but if you said" Do you want to go get some birds?", she would quiver and squeal. I once made the mistake of closing the door with her inside and she tore the blind off of the window. Lost her last December, I have pick of the litter out of the next litter. Thanks for asking.....

When "Ripper" got feeble, and I was training a new pup. each day before actually going to the field, I would take "Rip" out to the stubble, let him cruise around for a fwe minutes . Then take him home. He would tell the new pup "I been out, now its your turn". Then he would go back to bed.

And when the final time comes, here's two bits of writing that might help: "Where To Bury A Dog" by Ben Hur Lampman 1925- and "A Fatal Mistake" Rudyard Kipling 1895-

I take my dog around the yard and send her into the bushes, so she dives in and starts sniffing around. She loves to sniff out birds, even if they are sparrows. She loves to go around the brush pile in my back yard trying to sniff out birds. Then we go for a walk around the subdivision. Having fun with the ol' lady...............

Here a short time and a long time gone. I'm proud of you all for providing them with employment and still caring when they can't deliver on schedule. I wish the animal rights zanies were reading this thread!

jack

The last time I took Misty out hunting she was sixteen years old. I had purchased her as a pup from a local farmer who just happened to have a litter of liver and white english springer spaniels every year or so. My brother had an English Setter that was just too hot for southern Minnesota. She would quarter way ahead and get lost in the cornfields or marshes more often than not. It was one of those typical October mornings here with a light dew, sunlight filtered through high clouds and the refeshing aroma of decaying leaves that is almost intoxicating. Misty was going to stay home, but, the ol' girl put up such a fuss and would have no part of that idea. The others as well as I thought she would be of no use. She really could not see very well anymore, and deaf as a stone! Her trot lasted about ten steps and then into a gait that can only be described as 'the nursing home shuffle'. We, three hunters and three dogs, two of them setters, went out at the appointed hour of 9 a.m. We went about 50 yards and lost Misty in the lowground. The others made some unkindly remarks about old dogs and the need to put them down when they can't hunt anymore. I had the others go on ahead and sat by a tree near a hill for about 45 minutes. Low and behold, but what do you know, there she was following my trail with her nose. Needless to say, I was very glad to see her...she seemed happy, too.

We went up the hill and found the others, more caustic remarks about my dog followed. The race horses were really moving now, Misty was taking up the rear-behind me most of the time. I had hunted with these fellows for many years when I had the only dog, I really thought they would show the old girl some respect! These guys knew the same thing that I did, as Misty got older and lost her closing charge to flush a rooster pheasant she would let out a single bark. I am certain she knew if she didn't bark, the bird would outrun her and we would not get the shot. Although, perhaps, she thought I was getting slow in my old age and needed a little warning of the impending excitement. As the the four others covered the ground hurriedly in record time, Misty and I covered the same ground to get to the car where they were already waiting. We were about 40 yards away from the car now when suddenly she got into that "nursing home shuffle" again. The next thing you know, a burst of speed and a 'bark' of all things. The fellows at the car quickly turned their attention to my old dog just as the gaudy rooster became airborn. My .410 Winchester 101 reacted with with the quickness of a cat! The 3" #7 1/2 lead load from the bottom barrel caught him right on the preacher's collar nearly decapitating him. It is a good thing he wasn't too far away, as the retrieve might have done the senior citizen in that day. She proudly pranced back with the rooster in her mouth. I knelt down to take the bird. She really did not want to give it up. I don't know if she wanted an apology for trying to leave her at home, of if she knew it would be the last one and wanted to savor the moment. She reluctantly handed it over and we walked to the car. The first thing I did when we got back was lift her into the car and get her some water. With the windows open, so she could hear, I politely asked, "So, how many did you guys get?" Pause for dramitic effect. "You seem to have missed one."

When we got got home I fed and watered her in the very spot she layed for three days straight. She finally mustered enough energy to get up. She died about six months later.


I can only imagine what the other fellas were thinking after that about old hunting dogs and their usefulness in their last days. I am sure Misty thought of that day the rest of her life, as I have...with tears in my eyes.

I for one can not imagine leaving an old dog at home during the hunting season, if the spirit is willing!

Hairy

In the beginning, they hunt for you. In the end you hunt for them.
It is truly the cold hard heart that can resist that "look" they give when they want to come.