Thread: Trial Reports.

The Irish Pointer Club held an Open Confined Stake for Pointers under Irish Kennel Club rules and regulations on the East Liffey Head ground in The Wicklow Mountains on Sunday 18th August 2013. Judges for the day were Ned Flannelly and Anthony Mulhall. There was a steady breeze from more or less the West and while it threatened rain most of the morning other than a heavy shower around 11:00 that was all it came to and by the afternoon it was bright and sunny.

A sign of the times I suppose but there were only seventeen dogs on the card.
Result:-
1st Oksby Basso Des O’Neile’s Pointer dog. Imp. Denmark. By Toften’s Chris x Oksby Blanka. Bred by Liz Skov. Graded Excellent.

Alex.
Bit of a disappointment. He sort of ran when his turn came. Alex is the sort of dog you want to leave alone so he can get on with it. Our brace mate was a relatively inexperienced dog and she ran on him a couple of times and that was it. He didn’t really want to compete, he quartered behind me and never really got going. He got another run later on “for the beer money” and in fact ran much better and even more strangely he nearly ran better in the heavier ground. Strange dog! Who knows exactly what is in that huge space between Alex’s ears. He’s an easy dog to work with but complex in another ways.
Basso.
Yeh Basso!
I was running with my fifth decade apprentice Jimmy Dalton. We had an uneven beat in that it was maybe fifty yards to the left and as far as you want to the right. Add in a cheek wind just for fun. Both dogs were shaping up quite nicely, working the wind rather than the ground. The reason we were short on the left was a long cutting, maybe twenty feet deep and as wide. Jimmy nor I wanted to attempt it and the dogs didn’t fancy it either but eventually Jimmy’s dog spotted a jumpable spot and that was it. Gone! Not coming back either, well not in time any way. Luckily Basso was looking the other way at the time so we were safe and asked to wait around.
I was called in to run with another dog later on. What faced us was some nice flat ground but then another cutting, this time across the beat. This one was only maybe five feet deep in places. The sides were more or less vertical but in places you could walk down a nice soft slope. It took maybe three good cuts to get us to the cutting. Both dogs hell for leather. Basso the flatter and wider. The cast before the cutting Basso went left. Way left. Coming back from this cut he had gone maybe fifty yards right when he headed toward the cutting and pointed in the longer heather round the cutting, but not actually in it. I was watching Basso. Exactly what the other dog did I can’t really say but I claimed. I asked Basso to work down into the cutting and he stopped. Asking him to move again he started to relocate to the right. The judge then dropped a bomb shell. “Either produce another bird or work back to the covey.” What covey? Nine birds, which I hadn’t seen had been produced by Basso. He didn’t produce another bird but, thankfully, he went left and right to the spot where the covey had flushed and cleared his ground. (Always trust your dog!)
The second round was another good gallop in slightly longer heather. Just where you could have expected more birds but none were home.

I never doubted Basso’s capabilities for a minute but whether we were ever going to get his account opened was another thing. For those who believe in Sod’s Law, that he got his first two awards less than twenty four hours apart should be no surprise.
“Win at all costs” has never been a motto of mine. I have always wanted to do it my way and this was my way. A flat quartering dog going like the clappers, wide like the clappers, and taking his birds with relative ease. He got his birds only because he did the ground work right and it was nice that in his summing up Ned mentioned that Basso did both sides right from the get go.

That’s three days competition in a row and both man and dog were very tired. We reckon we walked over ten miles on Friday alone and Basso had at least two runs in each of the three events. I had to drink three cans of Red Bull to get home in one piece and Basso was also very tired. I put a Tuffie on the passenger seat and he slept the hundred and a half miles home virtually never lifting his head, even when we arrived. I did my best to have him ready and he repaid me in full. Well done Wee Man!