Outdoors/Adventure

Rescue dogs can become hunting phenoms. Mine did.

Gunner, a 1-year-old chocolate Labrador my partner rescued from the Kenai Animal Shelter, had been there for longer than most shelters keep a dog before euthanasia is required. All we knew about him was that he was picked up without a collar by Animal Control and never claimed. He had licked sores on his leg and over six weeks of confinement had developed a barking habit. By the grace of the good people at the shelter and a walk in the yard that told us he had something special, we brought him home with the thought he might hunt ducks with us.

More often than one might think, rescue dogs make great hunting dogs. There are no guarantees, whether a hunter is inheriting the unknowns of a rescue dog or purchasing a puppy from a reputable breeder. Just like people, some dogs hunt, and some never do. While there may be less risk in buying a pup from a breeder, the reward of both saving a dog and finding a hunting partner works out best for those whose primary purpose is the welfare of dog rather than the task it will perform.

Great hunting dogs often end up in shelters due to a variety of circumstances from divorce to finances. Sporting dog breeds require more exercise and attention than other types of dogs, and too many owners fail to understand the needs of the breed they brought home. Dogs with unrecognized hunting potential are often selected as family pets only to end up surrendered due to their high energy levels.

Dog trainers and many hunters who attempt to train a dog to point or retrieve do not have extra time to spend on a dog that doesn't respond quickly.

Unfortunately, some of these dogs also end up in shelters. It doesn't mean they don't have potential. I've met some of these special dogs that have a higher sensitivity or a slower pace and watched them excel as hunters because someone took additional care of a dog that looked like a tough case.

Narrow your search

Just as you would research a pup from a litter, there are elements in your control when choosing a rescue dog that you'd like to try as a hunter. If there is a particular breed that suits your purpose and lifestyle, it is best to narrow the search to that breed. Many rescue organizations specialize in specific breeds, including pointers, setters, retrievers, and spaniels.

If you are looking for a shelter dog you plan to train as a hunting dog, consider the known history and the health of the dog. An unhealthy dog — or one with an aggressive temperament — may not be the best choice. If the dog is known to have a fear of loud noises or gunfire or has experienced abuse, it may be difficult to overcome these obstacles in training. It isn't impossible, but may add years to the training process.

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Gunner was a classic-looking hunting dog, a photogenic near-black specimen of duck hunting strength and power. He caught on to retrieving dummies on the water with admirable style, delivering the dummy to Steve's hand with the diplomacy of a handshake. Although he became a trustworthy retriever, he was not good in every situation.

Problems with ice

One winter, he broke through a thin layer of ice on a creek to retrieve a mallard that had fallen on the opposite side. He picked up the bird and promptly dropped it in favor of swimming back to us for a conference. We reluctantly sent him back for the bird with the thought that he would swim through the channel he'd already broken through the ice. We were wrong. He cut an entirely new channel and struggled to get up the bank on the other side.

Again, he picked up the mallard. Again, he paused in confusion. His beautiful profile of pronounced brow and broad chest with his short coat shedding water in the day's last light and a green-headed mallard hanging lightly in his powerful jaws looked like the cover of a gun dog magazine. If he had brought the duck back, it would have been a perfect moment.

Instead, he dropped the bird again and headed back over our yells of "No!" He turned back and forth in the water, unable to decide which shore was his destination.

"He's not going to get it," I said. "One more time," Steve suggested. We watched with broken hearts as he failed to retrieve it for the third time. On the long ride home, none of us made a sound about what had happened. We all had lost the bird.

That one situation was the only one Gunner could not master. No matter how much we worked with him, if the bird fell across water, he never brought it back. It wasn't until he was 11 years old and gray in the muzzle, that a younger chocolate Lab, Cheyenne, taught him how to do it. They were two different kinds of retrievers — she was short, fast and determined, while his gait bore the ease of an old gentleman.

Watching, learning from Cheyenne

At the eleventh hour of his eleventh year, we had dropped two mallards on the far side of a tidal slough. Cheyenne swam with all her might to beat Gunner to the birds. She picked up the first and swam across the slough toward us. He watched her from the shore with the other mallard in his mouth. "He's not going to get it," I said. But, as Cheyenne dropped the first bird at our feet and swam back across the slough to get the second bird from him, Gunner decided to try something new.

He swam toward us with the bird in his mouth despite Cheyenne trying to steal it from him when she met him midway. From that day forward, he never had a problem picking up a bird across the water again. The joy of watching Gunner discover how to do something so late in the game was as exciting as when Cheyenne retrieved her first duck on our first hunt, and I took joy in her natural gift.

Shortly after the season ended, Gunner was diagnosed with cancer and started a regimen of pills. In his last few months, he stared out of the yard with less interest in the things he loved. My best memory of him was that last season when he knew he'd finally mastered his art.

Whether a dog starts with you as a rascal puppy quick to learn both good and bad, as Cheyenne had, or comes to you with old habits, patience is the critical element of letting a dog figure itself out.

Of the dogs I've hunted with over the years, there's always something special about the ones who make it as hunters when given a second chance. They got there because someone took a chance on them and often spent extra time and care. Like any relationship, there is no way to buy the perfect one. You get out of it what you put into it. When you rescue a hunting dog, the risk is worth the reward as long as you know, even if the dog never hunts, you did the right thing.

Christine Cunningham of Soldotna is a lifelong Alaskan and avid hunter. On alternate weeks, she writes about Alaska hunting. Contact Christine at cunningham@yogaforduckhunters.com

Christine Cunningham

Christine Cunningham of Kenai is a lifetime Alaskan and avid hunter. She's the author, with Steve Meyer, of "The Land We Share: A love affair told in hunting stories."

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