From Afraid of Water to a Double Retrieve: Tika’s Long Swim
By the time Tika reached the far side of the James River, I finally thought to get out my phone. She had found my pheasant. Now she had to bring it back across roughly 40 yards of water, and I could hardly believe what I was watching. You will hear that disbelief in the video. You will also hear plenty of loud, high-pitched encouragement:
“Good girl!” and “Tika, come!”
There is a reason a three-year-old bird dog making a swimming retrieve had me so excited. That story began beside a different river, when Tika was just eight or nine weeks old.
One loud PLOOP
I was walking Tika near the covered bridge in Ada, along the banks of the Thornapple River. It was just the puppy and me, and I was FaceTiming with my daughter, Jackie, so she could see her.
Then I heard a loud PLOOP.
Tika had jumped into the river and gone completely underwater. Whether she understood what she was jumping into, I cannot say. She certainly was not prepared for the experience.
I quickly pulled her out by the lead attached to her collar. She was extremely upset and clearly frightened. I stayed calm and moved us farther from the river.
Later in the walk, we reached a slow, shallow stretch. I tried encouraging her to come into the water. Absolutely not. I did not press the issue. We continued our walk.
Tika was at an age commonly associated with a puppy’s first fear period, sometimes called a “fear week.” That nickname makes it sound more predictable than it is. It is not one exact week on every puppy’s calendar. Around eight to eleven weeks, puppies can be especially sensitive to frightening experiences, and a bad encounter can leave a lasting association.
I cannot prove that Tika’s developmental stage explains everything that followed. An unexpected dunking could frighten a dog at any age. But the timing fit, and her subsequent behavior left little doubt that water had become something she wanted to avoid.
Grandma and Mom could not convince her
When Tika was about six months old, I took all three dogs to a shallow woodland stream. My dogs are three generations of Brittanys: Kaila, her daughter Piper, and Piper’s daughter Tika. I hoped that joining Grandma, Mom, and me would help Tika discover that water could be fun.
I had chosen the spot carefully. The stream was clean and shallow, with good footing. No deep mud, no boggy bottom, and no need to swim.
The dogs were running loose. I stepped into the stream, and Kaila and Piper immediately joined me. We played in the shallow, flowing water while Tika ran excitedly along the bank. She clearly wanted to be part of what we were doing. But she would not put a foot in the water.
She never joined us that day. That told me how strong her reluctance still was. Familiar dogs, shallow water, good footing, and an invitation to play were not enough. I let her stay on the bank.
One of the harder parts of training is accepting that the lesson you planned may not be the lesson your dog is ready for. I wanted Tika to discover that water was enjoyable. Forcing her into it would have worked against that goal.
Sometimes you change your approach
More months passed. When Tika was about a year old, and the weather and water had warmed, Jackie and I took her to a pond in Lowell with a gently sloping bank. This time, Jackie waded in with treats and encouraged Tika to follow.
I do not ordinarily use treats in my training. But there are times when you need to bend your own rules to help the dog in front of you.
Tika needed a reason to reconsider the water. The treats gave us a way to pair small steps into it with something she liked. That principle, introducing a manageable version of something frightening and pairing it with a positive experience, is useful well beyond water training. The exposure needs to stay within what the dog can handle; simply overwhelming a fearful dog can make the fear worse.
Tika reluctantly joined Jackie and eventually swam with her. She still did not look comfortable with the whole idea, but she had taken a step forward.
Later that summer, we took all three dogs to a dog-friendly Lake Michigan beach. The lake had warmed enough to be pleasant, although “warm” is always a relative term with Lake Michigan.
Jackie, Kaila, Piper, and I went into the water. Other people were playing in the lake with their dogs, too. This time, Tika joined us without treats.
She swam, but I would not describe her as a dog who had suddenly discovered her favorite activity. It looked much more like she did not want to miss out on being with everyone. Still, it was progress.
Over the next two years, I continued taking her to streams, lakes, and rivers. She came to enjoy shallow water where she could wade. Swimming remained another matter.
There were long breaks between some of these experiences. That is how our story unfolded, rather than a training schedule I would prescribe. The useful lesson is to provide manageable, positive opportunities and pay attention to the dog’s response.
For Tika, I kept the opportunities open without insisting that she become a water dog on my timetable. I still wondered whether she would ever willingly swim to retrieve a bird.
Two roosters over the James River
During opening week of pheasant season, Kaila, Piper, Tika, and I made our annual first trip to South Dakota. On the fourth day, Tika and I were hunting along the James River. By then, the dogs were well into the rhythm of the trip. We were hunting pheasants, and they knew this was a blast.
A pair of roosters flushed right along the bank. Of course, both flew toward the river. I shot the first bird and watched it drop. Then I swung onto the second rooster and dropped that one with a clean kill.
A true double.
Now I had two pheasants in the river and a dog who did not particularly like swimming. The first rooster had fallen all the way across, roughly 40 yards away, and was flopping near the opposite bank. The second was only about ten yards out.
I encouraged Tika to get the birds. She waded in, but each time she reached swimming depth, she turned back. At one point, she made it out to a large rock sticking above the water. I was pointing beyond it toward the pheasant, but the rock seemed to be as far as she was prepared to go.
I began considering whether I would have to get wet myself. The river was lower than I had seen it in 32 years. The afternoon was unusually warm, with temperatures in the upper seventies, and the current did not look strong. I wondered whether starting into the water would encourage Tika to continue. But I had not established that crossing it myself would be safe, and I wanted to try getting her attention onto the closer bird first.
I found a stick and tossed it near that pheasant. This time, Tika kept going. She swam to the bird, picked it up, and brought it back to me. Her first swimming retrieve.
I was delighted. But there was still another rooster on the far side of the river.
The long retrieve
Tika already retrieved birds on land. I had not yet insisted on the formal retrieve-to-hand that I had trained with my other dogs, but she understood going out, finding a bird, and bringing it back. Now she had done that in water, too. Would she do it again over a much longer distance?
I did not think I could throw a stick far enough to help her locate the other pheasant, so I found a rock and tossed it toward the bird’s location. To my surprise, Tika went. She was much less hesitant on this second retrieve, even though the distance was far greater.
Once she was swimming, she could not see the pheasant. Think about trying to spot something across a river with your eyes only inches above the surface. From Tika’s position, this was effectively a blind retrieve. She was swimming toward an area I had indicated, with my encouragement to keep going.
Fortunately, she was downwind of the bird. She caught its scent and found it. Even after all these years of hunting over dogs, their ability to locate a soaking-wet bird by scent amazes me.
That was when I finally thought, I should be filming this.
The video starts with Tika already on the far side of the river. You will not see her initial hesitation, the closer retrieve, or the swim out for the second bird. The entire sequence probably took five minutes or more. What I recorded was the 59-second return that I had hardly dared to expect.
I am extremely animated in that video. “Good girl!” “Tika, come!” You can even see her tail wagging as she swims toward me.
That is far more continuous cheering than I would ordinarily give a three-year-old dog for a familiar task. But this was a new accomplishment for Tika, and I wanted my voice to tell her she was doing well. She did not need to understand my commentary about a true double or how surprised I was. She knew “good girl,” and she certainly knew the excited, positive tone.
She swam all the way back and dropped the pheasant on the bank at my feet. “Oh boy, that was a long swim. You’re a good girl. You got it. You got it. Good girl.”
And yes, part of my excitement was pure relief that I did not have to get wet.
Progress on Tika’s timetable
Tika was not bouncing around afterward. She walked slowly and looked tired from the effort. The photographs of us with those two soaking wet roosters capture the result. The video captures why it meant so much to me.
It was not a polished performance. Getting her started took time. She needed encouragement and help locating the birds. Neither retrieve ended with a formal delivery to hand. But she recovered both pheasants.
For me, the lesson reaches well beyond water retrieves. Pay attention when your dog is frightened. Adjust the task when it is too much. Make training enjoyable. Be willing to use a reward or an approach that falls outside your usual habits when it helps your dog learn. And recognize when an accomplishment deserves more celebration than you would ordinarily give it.
The treats at the pond, the play with family, the shallow streams, and the familiar work of retrieving birds were all parts of Tika’s experience. I cannot tell you which mattered most. I can tell you that forcing the issue was never how I wanted to get her there.
I expect she will be more willing to swim for the next bird. Whether she jumps right in or needs another dose of encouragement, I will take my cue from her.
That afternoon on the James River, the puppy who once refused to put a foot in a shallow stream brought back both birds from my true double.
She had earned every “good girl.”
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