Training Journal: Dottie — Focus as the Gateway
Today’s lesson took place with a young English Cocker named Dottie, and while the setting was the quail woods, the real subject of the lesson was something far more universal.
Focus.
Not sustained obedience. Not duration. Just the briefest moment of connection—the smallest window of attention that allows the dog access to what she wants most.
All training, when stripped to its core, is simply this:
capturing a moment of focus and using that moment to unlock a reward.
That reward may be food.
It may be prey.
It may be the thrill of the flush itself.
But the rule never changes: focus creates access, and the release delivers the reward.

Beginning with the Collar
We started the session quietly, deliberately, with the collar. The collar grab is often overlooked, but it is one of the most honest places to begin a lesson. It tells you immediately how the dog feels about pressure, proximity, and cooperation.
As the collar came over Dottie’s neck, the second she allowed it—no avoidance, no tension—I marked the moment and rewarded her. We repeated this again and again. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition.
This is not about restraint.
It is about permission.
When Dottie offered even a fleeting moment of eye contact, we had something to work with. That moment of focus allowed the marker. The marker allowed the reward. And just like that, the collar began to predict good things.
It set the tone for everything that followed.

Into the Quail Woods
From there, we moved into the quail woods and allowed Dottie to hunt. She worked naturally through the brush, nose down, tail alive, clearly enjoying herself. Her obedience foundation was already solid, which gave us the freedom to focus this session on enthusiasm and engagement, rather than control.
As we approached the first quail, she caught scent. The moment her body shifted and her awareness locked forward, I asked her to come back to me.
I didn’t rush her.
I waited.
When she offered that brief moment of eye contact—just enough—I released her.
The difference was immediate. She flushed the bird with noticeably more intensity, pushing through the cover with purpose. She was beginning to learn that the hunt improves when it passes through the handler first.
The owner made the shot.

Preserving Momentum on the Retrieve
The moment Dottie picked up the quail, we moved backward into a clearing, calling her in with praise—fun, excitement, encouragement layered all the way back. Energy stayed high.
At this point, I had the owner grab her collar and keep her head up, giving us time to get a hand under her chin and ensure a clean release of the bird into the hand.
Now, Dottie has already been through a trained retrieve program. She understands holding, heeling, and releasing. But today was not about polish—it was about momentum.
So we took the thinking out of the equation.
Rather than asking her to control herself further, we simply managed the moment: collar held, head up, bird released into the hand. Asking for more obedience here risks dialing the dog back, and with that comes the risk of losing excitement. Today, enthusiasm mattered more than formality.

The Missed Bird and the Value of Letting Them Learn
On the second quail, the process repeated. As she caught scent, I reeled her back in and asked again for that same moment of focus. Once she gave it, she was released to flush.
This time, the bird flushed and we missed.
No concern.
Early on, I like to allow dogs to work the area where they believe the bird went down. Even on a miss, many dogs mark the fall. Letting them search, range, and problem-solve teaches them how to use their eyes, nose, and instincts together. Calling them back too early interrupts that learning.
Dottie worked the ground, hunting as if the bird were there. She was learning how to range naturally and trust her senses.
After a few minutes, we called her back. Eyes on her. Hand on the remote. Clear recall cues—
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.”
The instant she committed to coming back, the tone softened.
“Good.”
Praise carried her all the way in.

More Birds, Same Rules
Later in the session, we noticed several quail running down a path. We quietly moved Dottie into position and let her scent the ground. Her excitement was visible in her posture and movement.
At the peak of that anticipation, I called her back again and asked for that same thing—just a moment of focus.
She gave it.
And she was released.
She tracked, flushed, and we were unable to get a shot. That, too, is a lesson. Over time, the dog begins to understand that no shot means no bird. Nothing needs to be said. The field teaches that on its own.
We moved on.

Putting It All Together
On the next quail, I brought Dottie in downwind. The moment I saw her body shift as she caught scent, I required her to come back to me. I waited for the eye contact. The focus.
Then I released her.
Each repetition made her quicker to respond, sharper in her attention, more energized in her anticipation. I was becoming the gateway. The access point. The place she needed to pass through to reach what she wanted most.
The owner made a clean shot this time. Dottie did not mark the bird down—it fell into tall cover.
Rather than walking directly to it, we brought her in downwind and stopped. I let her work it out. When she crossed the scent cone, she turned, located the bird, picked it up, and returned swiftly.
The owner grabbed the collar. The bird was released into the hand.
At that moment, I had the owner mark with “yes”, and a short game of chase with the quail in hand began. Only a few seconds. Then stillness.
I required eye contact again.
Once we had it, we marked “yes,” and the chase resumed.
Focus.
Marker.
Reward.
The same pattern used at the collar.
The same pattern used before the flush.

The Lesson Revealed
That was the beauty of this session.
Once the dog’s desire and drive are fully alive, we can require focus without conflict. Focus doesn’t suppress the hunt—it organizes it. It teaches the dog that everything they love flows through the handler.
And that, ultimately, is how we train the dog.