The heat kept us out of the field, other than an opening-day duck hunt, for most of September. The dogs and I kept running several mornings a week, and I thought they were in great shape heading into the season. But this week, when we finally hit the field, I was reminded that Boomer is no longer a puppy as he enters his ninth season.
He was the steady performer he’s always been, but after the three-hour ride home I saw a dog who’d logged more miles than most. He was slow to rise and tentative stepping out of the crate. He warmed out of it quickly, but the two days of deep sleep that followed told the story. I have no doubt he’ll have a solid season, but it made me think about all the geriatrics heading into the field, and how often these signs are seen as the end of a career when, in truth, they just mark the next phase.
Boomer doesn’t have arthritic joints. He’s never had a major injury. He just has a body that’s been well used and needs to be treated as such. Too often I hear owners, and even veterinarians, label older dogs with hip dysplasia or arthritis and toss anti-inflammatories their way after a cursory exam, often without x-rays. In reality, for many of these older dogs with no prior issues, the culprit is intervertebral disc disease, a normal aging process not unlike what many of us over 35 have felt in our own lower backs.
Most of these “slowing down” cases involve stiffness on rising, a change in gait, and rear-end weakness, but I also see plenty of forelimb issues that trace back to the shoulder. Here again, too often the diagnosis stops at “arthritis,” and medication becomes the only plan.
In both situations, the real issue is usually not arthritis or bone changes—it’s soft-tissue: muscles, tendons, ligaments, and the structures that hold everything together. For too long, veterinary medicine has viewed pain and lameness almost entirely through the lens of the skeleton. We’ve focused on x-rays, arthritis, and NSAIDs, neglecting the muscular and functional side of movement.
The good news? Many of these dogs can be successfully treated and returned to high-level performance. The less-good news is that it takes engagement and effort. Just like us, as they age, canine athletes need stretching, targeted exercises, and maintenance work to keep performing at their best. Too often we want to throw two weeks of medication at a problem and call it good, but athletic performance, at any age, is far more nuanced.
As your dog gets older, maintaining that performance may mean training the body as much as you once trained the mind. That doesn’t mean you need a part-time job doing rehab. Often, it’s simple: some light stretching after big hunting days, being observant for early warning signs, and knowing how to intervene before they become full-blown issues.
The reason I’m writing this is because I’ve seen far too many dogs retired long before they needed to be, often from conditions that were treatable or manageable. Some of my greatest joy in the field has come when my dogs hit double digits. Maybe it’s sentimentality, or maybe I’m anthropomorphizing, but I believe older working dogs develop a deeper appreciation for their job. I’ve seen once-hard-charging dogs, built for speed and bird finding, shift gears and seem to take real satisfaction in a job well done. They bask in those moments, like we should, a little more often ourselves.
I’ve always looked at my dogs as partners who take me to the places and experiences I love most. Not every older dog will need hands-on maintenance work, but when they do, I see it as part of what I signed up for when I brought them home at seven weeks old. They give me endless love and devotion; I owe them every bit of care they need. These are living, breathing companions, not pieces of equipment to be discarded when they no longer perform at their peak.
Full disclosure: not every veterinarian will have the tools or training to help with these issues, and that’s okay. You don’t have to travel the country hunting down a sports-medicine specialist either, but you may need to find a vet who focuses on rehab. Start with resources like the American College of Veterinary Sports Medicine and Rehabilitation, the American Association of Rehabilitation Veterinarians, or the Canine Rehabilitation Institute, all of which maintain directories of certified veterinarians.
We expect a lot from veterinarians, but it’s unrealistic for any of us to do it all. Just like you wouldn’t go to a dermatologist for a sprained ankle, not every vet is trained to identify and treat functional or performance-related issues.
In the grand scheme of life, a single season may not seem like much, but for these dogs, a season can represent 10% or more of their working years. If a little extra effort adds another season or two with my dogs, I’m all in.
My setter Belle is proof of what’s possible. Around nine years old she developed severe back pain, so bad that even I thought her hunting days might be over. With the right mix of rehab and medication, she made a full return and went on to hunt hard for 16 seasons, tagging along ceremoniously for her 17th. Had I given up when she first showed symptoms, I would have lost nearly a third of her life in the field.
So when your old partner starts to slow down, takes longer to rise, or comes up a bit sore after a long day, don’t assume retirement is near. See it instead as a sign that it’s time to find someone who can help you keep your buddy doing what he loves, out in the field, where he belongs.
