How to quiet your dog in 200,000 easy steps
The story of Whiskey and his one incessant issue: Sometimes he just can't shut up
Ohhh Whiskey, the excitement sometimes is just too much for you—and anyone within earshot.
A dog that constantly whines or barks in a duck blind is a no-go for me, and I write this for all those folks out there (and I know there are plenty) who face the same issue with their gun dog or retriever.
I share this with, I hope, some benefit for someone out there at wit’s end. Think of it as an instructional: “How to make your dog be quiet in 200,000 easy steps.”
Teaching a dog to be quiet and still when every molecule in its genetics says, “go!” is a challenge indeed. Through many hours and experience with Whiskey we have come a long, long way, but his group waterfowl hunt days are reduced to going only with those few willing to tolerate his inevitable whining issues early in the hunt—not to mention his loud panting—or when I can go and not hunt for the first hour or so and simply manage my (5-year-old) pup. That, or we go at times I can focus on controlling him the first day and we can hunt “like normal people” on the second day. Once he gets it out of his system things improve immensely.
If you have a puppy the time to start controlling vocalizations is never too early, and from trainers I’ve spoken with and materials I’ve read it’s actually wise to teach a dog to bark on command and to be quiet on command, but I honestly have zero experience with that.
With my first two Labs barking simply was not an issue, ever, in their lives. I didn’t know it was an issue with Whiskey until the first time I was with him and a gun went off.
He came to us at 18 months of age and a great portion of his life was spent in a kennel in a lineup with lots of barking gun dogs at a quail hunting operation. He was on limited activity due to a mysterious injury for much of that time so he had plenty of pent-up frustrations.
He was full of energy, he panted incessantly (still does) in the car or when he knows we’re going hunting or training, but he had never barked in the house., did not whine and bark in his outdoor kennel, did not bark at door knocks or doorbells or airplanes or fireworks.
The first time he barked at the back door a strange dog had walked into our yard. No one in the family could believe it because, “he never barks,” we all said. We were all happy with him barking at a stranger in the backyard, by the way. That was encouraged. Good dog.
But when birds or guns were involved he morphed into a quivering, panting, whining explosive set to go off with a screaming kind of bark at any moment. The first time I took him to a gun dog test to see how well he could socialize with other dogs and people it was an embarrassment. He was so crazy in his crate I thought he would hurt himself.
We had our work cut out if we were going to go to field tests or hunt around other people or dogs. Like anyone else I started reading up and talking to other trainers and watching YouTube videos. And, as usual, I came up with my own method that worked for me and for my dog.
Whiskey, hard-driving and excitable as he might be, has a tender heart. His confidence and spirit is easily crushed with an aggressive tone of voice and too much pressure. In terms of rewards he’s never been much for treats, not when he can run and get a bird. Put a snack in front of his face when he could run and get a bumper or a bird and his reaction is literally “get that out of my face.” When we are on the road hunting for days he often simply will not eat.
What he wants is physical contact or a chance to run and get a bird. A scratch behind the ear or a release to go fetch—those are his rewards.
Dog training is consistent repetition with basic tools a dog can understand.
For “quiet” for Whiskey it was the steadily spoken “quiet” in a low, easy tone, physically closing his mouth (because he loves to be touched) and a happily spoken “good” and a scratch behind the ear—or release to go fetch something—when he was, indeed, quiet and still.
Eventually, after he made good progress, I transitioned to a vibrate setting or low-stimulus setting on his e-collar so I could enforce that quiet command without having to physically sit right next to him. I doubled up, physically holding of his snout with one hand while pushing the e-collar button with the other.
Most of the time now I can tell him “quiet” in that easy tone and he will do his best to rein it in. Sometimes there is a stress yawn or he shuffles and licks his lips, but he quiets down and I can see he is doing his best. Sometimes, a vibrate on the e-collar is needed. And still, when he is really worked up, I revert to that doubled-up method to remind him, “Hey, I mean it. You need to be quiet.”
We started this training at the Tulsa Gun Club, and then anywhere friends were practice shooting. At first it was only an easy muzzle or snout grab and the word “quiet” with the reward of a scratch behind the ear.
I sat with him on the tailgate of my truck, first at a distance and then closer, and closer, and closer, until he would sit or lie down next to me while I shot and others shot. It took weeks. It took many hours. The first few retriever tests we attended, there I sat, on the tailgate with my dog, repeatedly telling him to be quiet and scratching his ear when he was.
Within his first season we got his voice under control—except for limited situations that are very difficult to mimic. His excitement and that panting and that whine are simply always going to be there at some point.
European pheasant shoots are his new medicine. Marking a bird down or taking direction to find a bird is not an issue for Whiskey. Waiting for the opportunity with bird scent thick in the air and a bunch of guns going off with nothing falling is like cocaine.
One of five dogs at the event, he picked up 52 pheasants at our last European hunt.
The very first bird of the hunt slipped out low and landed without a shot fired. I released Whiskey to flush it for the gunners and that all went like clockwork. Bird numbers two through 25 required a lot of vibrates, snout squeezes, quiets, goods, ear scratches and him not being released—never, ever being released—to pick up a bird without first settling down and being quiet.
Whiskey is quiet at gun dog tests, at the gun club, when it is just the two of us out hunting, but put him in a blind with three or a dozen other hunters with birds in the air and duck and goose calls blowing or at a European shoot with guns going off everywhere and the scent from a pen of 350 pheasants downwind and he reverts again back to square one.
The only option is to expose him to those scenarios as often as possible and continue to remind him of his training under every circumstance. I have the tool to communicate and he “knows” his training, whether his DNA or his training comes out on top at any given moment is another thing.
One more thing about those dog training basics; it never truly ends and with any given dog you’re never really “done.”
