| Hunting, Training, Trialing | By Jim Devoll

A TRIP TO THE U.K.

HUNTING, TRAINING & TRIALING IN WALES

By Jim Devoll

(Published in Spaniels In The Field Summer 1990)

Here it is 1:45 in Swansea, Wales - can't sleep as I have a deadline to meet - my training article for "SPANIELS in the Field" is just started as I began writing it on the plane from Dallas to London's Gatwick Airport. Today is December 13th and Art will be jumping up and down in a couple days if something is not in the mail soon. But there is more to it than that, I've been wanting to come to Europe for many years to see first hand their trials and training methods. To watch the beaters drive game to the guns, and maybe take in a day's rough shoot. All this and much more has been planned for us by Mike Shefford - professional dog trainer and handler of the 1989 English Springer National Champion "Penny of Housty."

Mark Hairfield, the organizer of our trip and my traveling companion, has been here many times. Mark, also a professional dog trainer and spaniel field trialer, has been very successful in importing spaniels to the U.S. He buys them as young, started dogs, maybe a year or two old, brings them to the States and converts them to our standards; which , by the way, are very different from the British trial dog. Mark has a good eye for spaniel talent, as evidenced by the three young dogs he recently purchased for clients, and converted, that have since made their U.S. Championships.

Mike picked us up at the airport with his usual big smile. After loading our gear in his stationwagon, I was completely confused as where to get in this unusual car with the steering wheel on the RIGHT side. I ended up in the so called passenger seat, up front on the left, an uncomfortable place to be without any controls. Away we go, down the motorway 80 to 90 mph, raining so hard you could almost see the road-three lanes of traffic all on the wrong side of the highway. Three more lanes meeting us going just as fast only on the right side of us.
We stopped for lunch about 11:45 am, all three having a breakfast special (Mike conned the cook as breakfast is over at 11:30) of two eggs (fried hard as a rock), baked beans, some sort of bacon slice, a weiner like sausage and fried bread so hard it shattered when you bit into it. The coffee was great as was this unique breakfast.

Back again onto the motorway which by now had narrowed to two lanes. The sun came out now and we began to see the beautiful countryside, so green and lush - with large castles sprinkled across the foothills.

The conversation as usual got around to dogs, Mark had been trying to buy a young dog which he saw last May when he was here. The owner was not interested, but then had changed his mind and would sell the youngster. It seems that someone else purchased the dog right from under his nose while Mark was in New York at the U.S. National Championship. But the dog may still be for sale, by the owner, only at a much higher price than originally set. This did not set too well with either Mike or Mark as they were given "right of first refusal". Such is the life of a dogman.

As we neared Housty Kennels we began seeing signs directing the way. We were now on a very narrow one lane blacktop road with heavy brush twice as high as our car within arms reach on both sides. Luckily we didn't meet another car or someone would have to back up to a turn off or wide spot in the road. We stopped overlooking a long beautiful valley. You could see for miles from this hilltop. Mike pointed out the distant location of his home, the kennels and his training area. It felt good to see the Housty kennel operation. The relaxed, laid back atmosphere gave you a comfortable feeling. Mike has expanded his kennel buildings numerous times to accommodate his growing business. Dogs and puppies were every-where. We saw beautiful looking springers, cockers, labs, and goldens, all looking very healthy and happy.

Professional trainers there campaign a few "top of the line dogs" in field trials. These may be their own animals or a clients. As they establish their reputation, the sale of puppies and gun dogs support their business. In America a professional trainer may campaign any number of dogs in trials for clients, as we do not limit our entries. In Great Britian their one day trials are limited to sixteen competitors, so a professional with a string of five or six clients' dogs could have problems competing due to luck of the draw. Thus gun dogs, and puppy sales are the life blood of their business.

We met Mike's wife, Helen, five year old daughter, Morgan, and two year old son, Harry and spent about an hour or so in the kitchen having tea, visiting (what else) about dogs. Helen and Harry were not feeling well, but our cups never ran dry as Helen continued to offer us coffee or tea.

Mike's oldest daughter, thirteen year old Becky, helped with the kennel chores over the weekend. She reminded me of my own daughter, Shannon, who at that age had the same way with the dogs. Becky could handle the litters of scrambling puppies as well as the largest of the retriever breeds. Mike is very lucky to have such an able kennel assistant.

We spent the afternoon touring the kennels. Then it came feeding time and everyone pitched in to help. At Housty Kennels the puppies are fed daily, but the adult animals are fed every other day. Large quantities of raw meat are given. Mike explained that raw meat takes much longer to digest than our commercial dry dog foods. "Many kennels" he said, "are now using dry dog foods" but he "preferred raw meat."

After feeding, Mike, Mark, and I drove into Swansea. Mike had reservations for us at the Rock Villa Bed and Breakfast. A great place to stay. You could walk out the front door, take 20 paces and you were on the shoreline of Swansea Bay which flows into the Bristol Channel.
Mark and I walked next door for dinner , a nice pub downstairs with eating establishment above. The food was excellent, but I had trouble understanding the waitress. She offered a variety of potatoes and I ordered "Jockey" potatoes, thinking I would be trying something new. Mark laughed, explaining that we would be eating "jacket" potatoes, better known as baked here in the States.

Thursday, we spent on a rough shoot at Mike's. He worked numerous dogs for us, including his National Champion "Penny". He worked her in the rabbit pen and then out across the countryside. Game was scarce, but she covered her ground at a very fast pace and with style to burn. She's a real eye catcher and the topic of conversation at mid morning tea. It felt good to come in out of the rain, take off rain gear and warm ourselves at the wood burning stove in the kitchen. We consumed about ten cups of coffee while discussing the talent, or lack of it, we saw in each dog worked. Mike telling us how wonderful the different dogs were and Mark explaining to him just how much time, money and work it would take to convert them to U.S. standards. I was amused at the game they play with each other, price never yet mentioned about any dogs, yet they negociated back and forth each laying the ground work for their case. They have had so many previous trans-actions I felt each knew what the other was about to say before anything was actually said.

Mark, becoming very serious, suggested "Now that your bitch "Penny" has made her mark here in your country, winning the International Championship, why not send her back to the U.S. with me!!! I have a client who would purchase her and'spend the money to have her campaigned in the States."Mike just grinned and said "No thank you. She will need to produce some more puppies here." He paused, "She is not for sale." This was discussed many times over the next few days. Who knows - one day they may strike up a deal and we will be seeing her in the U.S. trials.
Very early Friday morning we headed for an area called the Midlands. The field trial was to be held not far from the Village of Banbury. The catalogue read as follows:
ENGLISH SPRINGER
SPANIEL CLUB OF WALES
Qualifying Field Trial for
English Springer Spaniels
Held at Chesterton, Habury,
Nr. Leamington
By Kind Permission of
The Late Mr. L.B. Thwaites

Fifty three entries were received, but only sixteen would run. The drawing had taken place and the list sent out, along with the remaining dogs listed in order of the draw as reserves. Mike's bitch, Penny, listed as a reserve was able to compete after all. Due to bad weather, one judge and a few dogs were unable to make it. The missing judge was replaced by Ian Openshaw, a young, well known professional, whose kennel we visited after the trial. His co-judge was Mr. John Carter, who also appeared to be well known.

Thanks to Mr. Shefford, Mr. Openshaw and Mr. Carter - Mark and I were invited to be judges stewarts. We were right in the judges' hip pocket throughout the action.

The Estate was just beautiful - wooded areas, pasture land and hedgerows all abundant with game. The main house overlooked a beautiful lake which was fed by a small creek. Some water fowl were setting on the lake while others flew about landing and taking flight again, unsure or our presence.

The trial began with the first brace being called up by the steward. All even numbers run under one judge and odd numbers under the other, a good system which eliminated much confusion. The trial followed natural terrain and cover, unlike our trials, where we try to keep the cover uniform for all competitors. One dog worked a narrow wooded area along the slew to one side of the lake - while the other worked a fence row with good cover. I though to myself, "how natural these trials are compaired to ours". Some very fast flying ducks came by giving the guns more than they bargained for, as all were missed. The spaniels carried on - working hard to produce game. A hen pheasant flushed ahead of the line, (well out front of the dogs), a gunner shot - dropping the hen out of the wooded area we were working. A voice rang out "Bird Down" and Mr. Carter had the handler move to the edge of the woods with his dog. The area of the fall was pointed out to the handler and he sent his spaniel back for the retrieve. We then carried on from where we left the wooded area; no ground was left uncovered. The trial moved along well, as all the participants followed with their dogs on lead. I could not help but notice that every one, including the judges and handlers had a bag hanging from a strap across one shoulder; everyone except the not-so-smart Americans. I assumed it was for rain gear. By mid-afternoon we realized what they were for. The bags held lunch, mostly sandwiches and apples. Of course our lunch was in a paper sack, miles away, in the car. Oh well, live and learn. The trial was exciting enough to keep my mind off food.

About that time a greater Canadian was shot across the lake from us. I'm not sure if it was a dog in the trial that was sent for the retrieve; although, I could tell that the dog picked up the bird. The trial continued and Mikes' national champion bitch, Penny, was called up under the judgement of Mr. Carter. We were now down along one side of the lake, while our brace mate worked the other bank. Being cover smart, Penny spent little time in the light grass. Instead, she headed toward the waters edge and heavier cover, working the reeds. Penny pushed out a hen mallard, which was missed, so we carried on. She was methodical in her ground coverage, coming to some very heavy brush which was on somewhat of a peninsula, she dug in under a heavy thorn bush and picked up a hen. Penny had a hard time pulling the bird from the heavy cover and delivering it tenderly to hand. Mr. Carter said not to worry about the peg since the bird had no escape.

Penny was sent back into the brush, and out from the other side went another pheasant across the lake. No shots were taken. Mike asked Penny to carry on still wishing for a retrieve to wrap up an A+ series.

From across the lake Ian Openshaw shouted to us that another pheasant had moved into the heavy brush that we had just worked. Mr. Carter required Penny to hunt back in the punishing cover. This hen was also flushed and missed. We pushed on, along a fence row to the left, and reeds to the right. Mike and his champion worked well as a team and handled the sparce cover along the fence row then back across to the lake edge to work the reeds. Finding nothing for a short spell, the judge told Mike, "Stay close, I'll call you up for a retrieve". Penny had four finds and numerous wild flushes, but had no chance to pick up any game.

About three dogs later as we were entering a very low, swampy area, heavy with cover, a fox jumped and ran across our beat onto the bracemates which was now working along side us. Judge Carter asked the gunner why he did not shoot it. "The late Mr. Thwaites liked the fox and didn't want them shot," was his reply.

All at once pheasants exploded from everywhere. Four birds were airborne, the guns dropped three, Penny was sent back into the brush, and out from the other side went another pheasant across the lake. No shots were taken. Mike asked Penny to carry on still wishing for a retrieve to wrap up an A+ series.

From across the lake Ian Openshaw shouted to us that another pheasant had moved into the heavy brush that we had just worked. Mr. Carter required Penny to hunt back in the punishing cover. This hen was also flushed and missed. We pushed on, along a fence row to the left, and reeds to the right. Mike and his champion worked well as a team and handled the sparce cover along the fence row then back across to the lake edge to work the reeds. Finding nothing for a short spell, the judge told Mike, "Stay close, I'll call you up for a retrieve". Penny had four finds and numerous wild flushes, but had no chance to pick up any game.

About three dogs later as we were entering a very low, swampy area, heavy with cover, a fox jumped and ran across our beat onto the bracemates which was now working along side us. Judge Carter asked the gunner why he did not shoot it. "The late Mr. Thwaites liked the fox and didn't want them shot," was his reply.

All at once pheasants exploded from everywhere. Four birds were airborne, the guns dropped three, and each dog down made their retrieve. The toughest fall of the three was yet to be retrieved.

Mr. Carter called Mike Schefford and Penny to the line. Mike needed a retrieve to cap off his earlier performance. But what a retrieve! Smiling as he always does, he came to the line, glancing my way, rolling his eyes up and back into his head as if to say, where's this going to take me. "I have a simple enough retrieve for you" the judge pointed out. The fall was across a thirty yard stretch of water, another ten yards up onto the far bank at the base of a large briar bush, similar to our multifloral rose. "The bird is also a cripple", John Carter told Mike.

Mike cast Penny into the water. She swam about half way across looking back to Mike for direction. He sent her back again, across and up the far bank. She began hunting at once and found the area of the fall. Keep in mind that this bird was dropped about ten minutes or so earlier and neither handler nor spaniel had seen the bird shot. Working like a true National Champion she put her nose right on the ground tracking the cripple another twenty yards, snapped it up and swam back proud as she could be.

At this point I believe both John Carter and I felt this was the spaniel to beat.

(To be continued ....)