It is a truth universally known, that Cocker Spaniels are a little slow in their heads. Even though they are said to have “a characteristic expression showing intelligence and alertness”. My dog Dexter is express proof as to why dogs require strict training before being allowed on the field, especially when hunting.
An English Cocker Spaniel is a breed of gun dog. They are Flushing dogs, often used on birds that run from the hunter. One would think, that this would encourage him to learn to keep his distance, while still doing his duty.
I might be at fault when it came to his training because for the longest of time, he was just too small for me to want to train. A little while later, I realized that he was a year old, and a little too old to try training. To make matters worse. He wasn’t allowed to go out a lot because the dogs near our place are similar to the gang members that feed them: unruly, dangerous and stray. To add to this, the old Pomeranian that out tenants owned got jealous when we first bought him, and nearly took a bite out of him, resulting in a permanent phobia. So, Dexter is essentially a chicken.
This December, we took him to Mangalore. His previous visit last October showed us, that he could learn to be a good watchdog, of he stayed with watchdogs (he learned to scare away strangers). We tied him up next to our uncle’s dogs, who weren’t too happy about the new comer who was getting a littleIMG_20170214_144329_042 too much attention for their liking. Everyone who came home was utterly fascinated with him, asking questions ranging from how and where we got him, to ‘did (we) get his hair done?’
His week in Mangalore helped him get over his phobia of animals in general. That was good. The part where he tried chasing a buffalo, not so much. After having watched the dogs at home bark at the cows, calves, and buffaloes at home on a regular basis, he learned that these were animals that were meant to be chased. Or eaten. He likes beef. I don’t know how rare though.
When we let the cows out in the morning, we take them out one by one. Our man, let loose to perform his morning rites, decided to start small with the calf. He ran, full speed at the poor thing, barked his head off, and set off a flight that took us about twenty minutes to get the calf to calm down. I asked my nephew to tie him up, but he figured that Dexter wouldn’t try this out with a fully grown animal, and just let him out the other gate. Our man decided to come with a bang, having enjoyed his previous chase and decided that this time, it would be a fully grown buffalo. He ran again, barking his head off, straight into the buffalo, only to realize that his barking lead to the Buffalo turning around with an expression of mere annoyance. He realized his mistake. My mother screamed in fear for his life, and Dexter, realizing how wrong he was, ran. He ran and ran (while the farmhand held the buffalo down), straight into the house and right under the sofa. I don’t think he learned his lesson.