Your hunting dog might be a pointer or a flusher — or it might be both

The blocky black head with white teeth and lolling tongue stood out from the back of the truck, and I knew instantly: Labrador. Other breed standards might have given it away, but Labs are most identifiable by their temperament. It’s something that can catch you from across the room — or parking lot.

That’s how I met Trap, a stunning specimen of Labrador with a flashy smile and gleam in the eye that told me he was about to escape the back of the truck. He did. His purpose was to find an empty water jug to bring our group, wagging his tail with pride. It won me over instantly.

Labs must be friendly, or they are not considered Labs by some experts on the breed. It’s essential to their first job as a friend to the fisherman, an extension of which was their ability to retrieve fish, and later ducks, birds and water jugs.

Webbed feet and an otter tail are secondary. So is the water-resistant coat and variety of colors and features that make you able to identify your Lab out of a lineup of dogs, much like you can pick the American out at a foreign airport. It makes sense that the most popular breed in the U.S. and many other countries would be one known for character over form.

The Labrador is a duck dog first, but also able to flush and retrieve grouse. In Alaska, a flushing dog works well hunting upland birds that thrive among spruce trees, young aspen, or sparse shrub — spruce grouse, ruffed grouse, or sharp-tailed grouse. You can send the dog into these places, and birds will “flush” out.

A Labrador can also hunt ptarmigan — willow, rock, and white-tailed, found in willow thickets, steep slopes, or the highest boulder fields and slides, respectively. When the habitat changes to lichen and flattens out, flushing is not as necessary as finding the birds.

Most often, Steve and I hunt upland birds with English setters, which are pointing dogs. Instead of flushing game, they find and point a bird for the hunter. Camouflage is a bird’s best defense, so it will not move while the dog is on point. The dog’s ability to hold a bird until the hunter arrives makes a pointer a safer dog for a beginning hunter, as the gun may remain unloaded in the field until the dog goes on point.

While there are arguments about whether or not a Lab can also point, it is certain that a Labrador, no matter how well it might find and point a bird, does not do it as a setter does.

In the high country, a big-running setter will range farther than a flushing dog. The pointing dog casts outside the range of the shotgun, covering wide-open country best. A Lab can do this, too, but it doesn’t paint quite the same picture.

The gait of an English setter is often such that a book could be balanced on their heads while they run. The feathering of setters — the longer fur on their ears, chest, back of the legs and tail — works to blend their movement into a sweeping brush of the countryside. As an image, it is as romantic a notion as wild horses on the range. They make big country come alive

What kind of dog is best for hunting upland birds? It depends on what you want out of a hunting experience. If you are looking to bring home more birds, some might say to go with a flushing dog. The notoriously food-driven Labrador might have propagated that idea.

If you are given to aesthetics — watching a big-running dog work a mountain valley is one of the most beautiful things I have seen. They cover ground in a sweep the way a peregrine falcon swoops, graceful, high-speed movement stalled only by stealth.

For me, a point is nothing without the rest of the movement — like experiencing an opera. My favorite points are like those moments it takes an aria to describe. When the dog’s tail stops, and the dog is sure on scent or sight, it’s not just a point; it’s the point.

While watching a Lab work, I feel more like a sports fan. I cheer from the stands at slides, crashes and wins. Only the stands are duck blinds, and the slides are splashes into water. The wins are retrieves.

There are times we hunt grouse with either flushers (the Labs) or pointers (the setters). What really mixes things up is when you take the two different types of dog on the same hunt. The idea is that the pointing dog will hold the bird, and the flushing dog will flush and retrieve it. Sometimes this works.

When Steve and I took Hugo, an English setter, and Cheyenne, a small chocolate Lab, on a grouse hunt for the first time, I had my doubts.

Hugo found a small group of spruce grouse far ahead of Cheyenne in the woods. I saw his tail flashing and then stop. Sometimes Hugo will point a songbird or other curiosity, but his tail is not as straight or still.

When it’s a game bird, he turns to stone.

As I walked to the group of spruce trees at the edge of a clearing, Cheyenne walked ahead of me, alert to the birds, before rushing past Hugo, who broke his point, and they both flushed the birds.

Some hunters will not shoot a bird over a pointing dog if the dog “breaks” the point, flushing the bird. After my two shots, only Cheyenne ran to the downed birds. Hugo won’t retrieve and was off in the distance, leaping over paper birch and ducking branches in pursuit of the next covey.

Cheyenne picked up the farthest bird, her tail wagging as I sang her praises in my usual refrain — “Good girl” and “Bring me the bird!” — while I thought, “Look at her,” and “Please don’t eat it.” She ran right by my outstretched hand to Steve, who was taking her picture. She brought the second bird to him as well.

A Labrador is eager to please — it’s their number one trait, and I love them for it. Clearly, since I was already pleased, she took the birds to Steve.

Christine Cunningham is a lifelong Alaskan who lives in Kenai.