Lurchers for Beginners: Training Your Human

You are a lurcher. This means you are a member of a proud and noble race. You can ignore those other dogs with their certificates and their so-called pedigrees. They could only afford one set of genes, and now their ears are wonky and fall off, or they need zimmer frames because of their inbred hip problems. You come from at least two lines of genetic goodness, carefully blended to make you the handsome, superior creature that you are today.

You are the elite, fast as a cheetah (whatever that is), and with the sleek lines that every other dog desires. You can leap tall buildings, outrun trains and curl up into shapes that even balloon animals can’t achieve. Your eyesight matches the resolution of the finest binoculars, and your long nose is a wonder in its own right. The rest of you is pretty cool as well, but let’s not sound too self-satisfied.

lordgraham

As a lurcher you have responsibilities, and one of those is training your human. It’s not easy, but if you want to get the best out of them and give them a good, rewarding life, it is essential. So here is Part One of the Lurchers for Beginners guide to the subject.

Introduction

Firstly, humans can be trained. Ignore what some of the other dogs say. Humans are moderately intelligent, and can be loyal, affectionate companions if treated properly. But we’re not saying it’s all fun and games. A badly trained human is disobedient, wilful and no use to anyone.

In this first article we’re going to look at some of the main problem areas you might need to consider:

1. Social and Interpersonal Skills

1.1 Some humans are solitary; some like to live in packs. If it makes them happy, let them. It’s hard to see what they get out of it sometimes, and they do snap at each other, though there’s usually no lasting harm. Experienced human-trainers say that there may even be some benefits, but do watch out for them paying more attention to each other than to you.

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humans in a pack (lurcher-eye view)

1.2 When you’re walking them, they meet other humans and then stand there for ages, making pointless noises to each other, even when you require attention. Once back from their walk, they stare at pictures on shiny boxes for hours until you physically get in the way and point out that you were calling them. Both behaviours show a lack of social skills and need addressing.

1.3 Do not rely on humans to guard your home. Some of them will let anyone in, and make little effort to sniff bottoms, check the stranger’s posture and obvious things like that. They have little idea of which species should and shouldn’t be in what is, after all, your home, not theirs.

an unwelcome intruder
an unwelcome intruder

1.4 Humans do have a basic language, although it isn’t suitable to convey the nuances that a lurcher might achieve. Be aware that your human(s) will not understand a lot of what you say to them, and try to make allowances. For example, a complex series of barks which make it clear there’s a squirrel ten point seven five metres up that third elm tree from the left, the tree is yours, and the human should go do something about it, will be lost on them. Keep it simple.

2. Behaviour in the Home

2.1 Humans steal food. It’s in their nature. On a regular basis they go into the cold box in the corner and take things you were planning to eat. If there’s a plate of something interesting on the table, they gobble down most of it themselves before you have a chance to get in there. Do not leave bones, sausages or other choice items unattended. You’re only asking for trouble.

your food is not safe!
your food is not safe!

2.2 They will go on the furniture, despite being told not to. This is particularly annoying. Some days it seems like everywhere you go, there’s a human lolling on the comfy chair, the sofa and so on. They take up a lot of space, and are quite stubborn about moving. A startled human can be quite hostile, so be careful.

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the proper use of a bed

2.3 They insist on sleeping on the bed with you. This is a habit which is very hard to break. You settle down for a good night’s doze, and then a human pushes and shoves their way in next to you, or grabs all the covers and makes moaning noises about something. Sometimes they get so territorial that they push you out altogether.

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a badly-trained human

2.4 Humans are essentially lazy, and need exercising frequently. If you do not do this, they get fat and take up even more room when they manage to get on the sofa.

2.5 The one thing you can say in favour of humans at home is that they are toilet-trained. They choose one place in which to do their business, usually a small room upstairs, and stick to it. For some reason this room is full of tissue paper. We have no idea what that’s about.

3. Outside the Home

3.1 Let’s be clear about this one. Human recall is poor. There are times when you can bark or whine yourself hoarse before they come back to you and pay attention to the dead rat, fox droppings or mud-hole that you’ve found.

3.2 Humans are slow. It is possible to have some of the younger ones trained to run with you, but in general they will lag behind, make odd noises and wander off in the wrong direction. Remember that they are not able to cool down through use of their tongues, and will gradually end up soaked in their own sweat. Unpleasant but true.

distance
at this distance, a human will have no idea where you are!

3.3 Their eyesight is also poor. It only takes a bush or a small tree to be in the way before they have completely lost sight of you. Even if you are a mere mile or two away, they will have no idea where you are. At this point they will make strange yelping noises and shout a lot, apparently in distress.

3.4 They insist on investigating poo. And then they pick it up! What can we say? There seems no way to train most of them out of this. Instead of leaving poo where it is, to break down naturally or to leave an obvious signal for other dogs, humans collect the stuff like pack-rats and fill their pockets with it. There is no known explanation for such behaviour. It is unhygienic, but you may have to leave them to it.

In Conclusion

What can you, as a responsible lurcher, do about all of this? In Part Two, in a week or so, we will suggest some training tactics.

Remember, though, that no human is fully trainable. There will always be moments when they revert to their natural animal state and do something naughty.

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a lurcher today, appalled at her responsibilities

Be patient; be kind. Try to take the long view, and look at the affection and companionship which a well-trained human can provide over many years. It’s worth it.

Next time on greydogtales: More Strangers Seas. Our nautical weird theme continues…

 

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9 thoughts on “Lurchers for Beginners: Training Your Human”

  1. Oh that’s all so true (I’m a particularly well trained human but Blue won’t get me to break my picking up poo habit)

  2. My cat overlords forbid me from over-complimenting this (scratching) post, and I’ve been instructed to refrain from building dog-shaped sand castles in their boxes. However, if ever there was a reason to sniff a butt, perhaps this is it. Two paws up!

  3. Our Lurcher Shadow, has instant recall. Not possible you say but we have found that waving a pork pie will work wonders at 500m you just need to toss it to one side when you can see the back of his throat otherwise a nasty collision occurs.

      1. Substitute dead fox or seriously decomposed crow and up the distance to 1500m! Crikey, do you expect me to have lurcher vision to read the numerals below. here goes for the first time. Thought so, second one better for human eyes!

        1. Ha. We found a brand of meaty treat that seems to have something addictive in it. Easier on the pockets than carrying decomposing crows. Sorry about the captcha thing – it’s supposed to stop spam (not that it always does).

  4. I was extremely lucky in that my amazing Lurcher, Medina (who we sadly lost in October), did not need to train us. After a horrendous start in life, she was always very happy to fit in with the humans. She had a perfect recall (even if a squirrel ran in front of her), never stole food and kept to her own bed. We were very spoilt – and miss her every day. Ali x

    1. Sounds lovely. I have to be honest and say that our labrador is far worse than the longdogs. She’s obstinate, demanding, bloody-minded, always has been, and has basically made us do what she wants. We gave in to her years ago, just for a quiet life.

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