Bred by my friend Daniel, he was a full brother to my two other hunting dogs, Jazz and Hook. They are both smooth coated, whereas he is hairy, and with his crooked smile and red whiskers there was something immediately likeable about this ugly, affectionate wee pup. We nick-named him ‘Redbeard’.
Jazz and Hook are both bailers. Relatively small dogs, but fast and nimble, they have grown up on a diet of hunting Northland pigs – characterised as generally small hogs that run like lightning, and aren’t afraid to fight when backed into a corner. With age these pigs can grow beautiful, trophy jaws. Being from the same line, Black was trained from a young age to bail pigs – not hold – and it was hoped he would fill a gap in the pack vacated by other dogs that had recently been forced into retirement by pig injuries.
His first hunts were not promising. Following mandatory kiwi aversion training, our forays into the steamy, subtropical native jungles in which we commonly hunt resulted in him backtracking all the way to the truck, then sitting there patiently hidden underneath the vehicle until we returned – sometimes hours later! Frustrating, but with a young dog that is life! Realising his education was not going to be straightforward, my hunting mate Zacque Price and myself were forced to put our patience caps on, lower our expectations and accept that even small gains were positives.
For a long time it felt like there were none. Returning to the truck midway through a hunt became a habit - which was fine as long as we were parked on private land, but on busy access tracks like Mokau Ridge in thereally quite stressful, but with no other pups to put the energy into, we were forced to plod away, take plenty of deep breaths and, most importantly when disciplining him, to never act in anger!
