Bird dogs have been at the side of hunters for centuries. Setters, spaniels, and retrievers were bred for generations to work across marshes, fields, and all manner of landscapes in pursuit of upland birds and waterfowl. While there are plenty of breeds that can pick up a bird, only a select few have earned the reputation of becoming true duck dogs.
Gator, a ten‑inch‑tall Jack Russell terrier, blows that notion wide open. Known across the duck hunting world as “Gator the Duck Dog,” he became a fan favorite in the blind, a test dog at high‑level retriever events, and even an official YETI athlete—the only dog to hold that title. Behind him stands his owner, professional trainer Alex Huff, of One Shot Retrievers. We had the pleasure of sitting down with Alex for a Q&A to talk about her story and the journey of turning an unlikely terrier into one fierce duck dog.
The Early Days
Believe it or not, Alex didn’t grow up bird hunting. A well‑timed bird dog in her college years changed that, converting her from a big‑game hunter into a full‑fledged bird hunter. Between a hand‑me‑down lab and Moose, the Jack Russell who came before Gator, Alex cemented her passion for bird hunting and bird dogs.
Split Reed: How did you get into working with dogs and eventually become a professional trainer?
Alex: I got into training in college with a kind of hand‑me‑down lab. He was my dad’s dog, but he wasn’t really what my dad wanted, so he gave him to me. I remember thinking, well, I guess I’d better figure out how to handle this dog. I wasn’t really a duck hunter at that point. We grew up big‑game hunting, Africa trips, lots of deer and elk and only a little bit of bird hunting. College is when I really got into bird hunting, and I pretty quickly decided I liked that way more than deer hunting or anything else. At the same time I had that lab, I had a Jack Russell, Moose, the one I had before Gator. He was a family dog we’d had since I was in high school, but he came to live with me in college, and inevitably he made it on a few hunts. We’d go dove or quail hunting and, even though he was never formally trained, he loved to pick stuff up. If you threw a bumper, he didn’t care much. But a bird? He loved to pick up birds.
With the lab, I started doing a little bit of training on my own, and then my dad offered to send him to a trainer. So we did, and after that I just wanted to keep going. From there, I got into hunt tests, then more serious waterfowl hunting with that dog. A few years later, in 2018, I met my husband, actually partially through Gator, which is kind of cool. He’d been training dogs since the ’90s. He wasn’t actively training at the time, but he’d run the Grand and done all that for years. When we got married, we started this business together, and that’s how One Shot Retrievers really grew.
Now we don’t run hunt tests anymore. We only run field trials with a select number of dogs, and we really love that because it just produces a better dog at the end of the day. We also do a lot of all‑breed obedience. And obviously, for me, having a Jack Russell I trained to retrieve, I love the random breeds. I love all the random mutts that come in for obedience, and seeing owners go from we’re about to rehome this dog to we can actually live with this dog is incredibly rewarding.
Moose to Gator
Split Reed: How did you first get involved with Jack Russells as a breed?
Alex: My first Jack Russell, Moose, was 12 when he was diagnosed with lymphoma. I was incredibly attached to that dog, and I still get sad thinking about him. Jack Russells are just very personable little dogs. They steal your heart whether they retrieve or not, mostly because they’re so funny. When Moose got sick, I knew at some point I’d get another one. Not to replace him, but because I love dogs and can’t imagine not having one around. I already had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to see if I could really train one to retrieve. Moose’s training was very informal. He’d go get a dove and drop it at your feet, but he wasn’t steady—there was none of that. But we’d take him goose hunting, and he’d grab one, or take him duck hunting, and he’d jump in the water and go get one.
After he was gone, I didn’t think I’d get another Jack Russell as fast as I did, but it kind of felt like God just dropped Gator in my lap. The lady who bred Moose had a litter, and we’d been talking back and forth because I wanted something somewhat related to him. Gator isn’t as closely related as I would’ve liked, but it really doesn’t matter. She had one puppy left. Every dog I’ve owned has been the last pup in the litter, which I use to prove to people that it’s really about how you raise them. If the pedigree is right and you raise them right, you can just reach in, grab one, and be fine.
I was living in southeast Texas at the time, and we actually traded a gator hunt for a guy to drive the puppy (Gator) down to me so I didn’t have to go all the way up near Fort Worth. That’s more or less how he got his name.
Split Reed: What was/is the process like to train a Jack Russel like Gator to become a duck dog?
With Gator, I started when he was a puppy. I did it exactly how I would do a Lab puppy. I literally did not change a thing. Treat training, hallway retrieves with a toy, tossing birds in the yard. I think I got him in September, and his first hunt was probably the next September—a teal hunt in very shallow, flooded grass. After e‑collar conditioning, I went to three‑handed casting in the yard before I did force fetch, then we kept stepping through the rest: T pattern, swim‑by, cheating singles, everything. Because he’s so small, I couldn’t use a full‑size swim‑by pond, so I found a little finger off a pond and improvised—back pile on one side, overs on the other, then turned around and did the opposite. I didn’t skip anything with him.
People always ask if anything was harder with him than with a lab. Honestly, not really. He flew through everything because he loved to work. The dogs that bog down are usually the ones that don’t enjoy work. The only real issue that cropped up was steadiness once we started hunting. He was steady in training before I ever took him hunting, but when you put him in a field with ducks and geese falling, that Jack Russell stubbornness came roaring out. I finally just started tying him down. I wasn’t going to keep fighting that battle. He ended up with a leash on for every hunt from probably his first or second season on. I tried to muscle through it for a year or two, and then my husband said, “Why don’t you just leash him? It’ll be easier.” And he was right.
Split Reed: When did it actually click for you and Gator that this was more than just an experiment?
Alex: I don’t really know if there was one exact moment, but probably taking him goose hunting and duck hunting was when it started to click. Honestly, he’s not meant for the water. Water is just not his deal. He’ll get in, but if you take him duck hunting over water with corn stalks and decoys, it’s not ideal. And at the end of the day, it gets dangerous. So we did a little of that, but then it basically became dry‑land only.
Once we started hunting him on dry ground, I did have a realization that he’s actually practical. He runs out, scoops them up, and runs back. The only really impractical thing about him is this horrible popping habit he developed, which is kind of hilarious. It’s like he blacks out when he’s hunting. He gets so excited he just loses his mind. He’s been forced to the pile and all that in training, and he won’t do it there, but in the field he would pop like crazy.
There was also a point, probably taking him duck hunting on dry ground, where I thought, if he’s on dry ground, he’s as good as a lab. As far as marking goes, I’m not just saying this because he’s my dog. The dude can mark. In training, he marks extremely well, and I did not expect that from a Jack Russell. I’ve run him as a test dog at master tests, and literally had a controlled break on every single mark: he’d run out, spin, come back, then run out again and just step on every bird. That was probably when I thought, we’re going to start running field trials. If this little Jack Russell can do this, I’m done just running hunt tests with my Labs.
Split Reed: Has Gator ever run in competitions, and where are some of the different places he’s hunted across the country?
Gator has been all over, he’s been to Arkansas, Nebraska, Texas, he’s traveled a lot.
As far as hunt tests, it’s mostly been Texas. I’ve run him as a test dog in senior tests. Obviously, he can’t actually run for a ribbon because he’s not a retrieving breed, but he’s done senior and some master setups as a test dog. And then we had the SRS Crown Championship, I think in 2018 or 2019, where he ran as a test dog for the second-to-last series. That was really cool because it’s a lot more complex than a hunt test, and it’s televised, so it was pretty neat. There were a lot of really well‑known trainers there, and we just had fun with it.
As far as the hunting side goes, he’s crane hunted in West Texas a couple of times, and he loved it. Totally impractical, but we did it just to say we did it. He picked up a few cranes and carried some back. After that it was like, okay, no more, you’re not meant for that. Beyond that, he’s goose hunted, duck hunted, pheasant, dove, you name it. He’s picked up a leucistic goose, a few banded geese.
I’ve had so many fun memories with him. Honestly, it’s kind of emotional now that he’s older. Watching him chase cripples is one of the most fun, enjoyable things I’ve ever seen in a dog. I’ll never have another one like him. I’ll have some really cool labs that do big things in trials, but he’s just unique. He’s got so much heart, so much grit. It’s going to be a really tough day when he’s gone.
Split Reed: What are some of your favorite hunting memories with gator?
Honestly, the best memories are the times it was just me, my husband, and our two dogs. He had a dog; she’s older and retired now, but we used to hunt them together a lot. Just the two of us and the two of them.
They were hilarious together. They were total train wrecks in the best way. Gator would be coming back with a bird; you could barely see him behind it, and she’d try to swoop in and snatch it from him. Those hunts, without a bunch of people or big numbers, mostly simple duck hunts, are the ones that stand out the most to me. Those are definitely the best times.
There were a lot of times when he was really practical, especially on duck hunts. He’d scoop birds up as fast as a lab and never had any trouble picking them up or carrying them back. He fits in my layout blind, which is super handy—you don’t need a separate dog hide.
Split Reed: Compared to other dogs, how does Gator stack up in overall drive in the field?
As far as drive in the field goes, and I’m not just saying this because he’s my dog, he’d be one of the hardest dogs in the world for someone who doesn’t really know how to handle dogs. He is so fired up. We have a lot of very driven dogs, but most of them have a little more control because they’re labs. They’re bred to stay under control while still being excited.
Gator’s a Jack Russell. He’s not bred to stay under human control; that’s just not what they were made for. He’ll shoot you the middle finger in a heartbeat. He’s going to try to break every single time. You can crank the collar all the way up; he doesn’t care, he’ll run right through it. He probably has some of the worst line manners of any dog I’ve ever had—that’s no joke. He absolutely loves to go, and you’re never going to take that out of him.
Split Reed: This past year was Gators unofficial last year in the field and his entry into retirement, what made it the time to retire him?
Hunting has taken a toll on him. He had some back issues a couple of years ago, so I really slowed down on hunting geese with him. I’m not saying I’ll never take him hunting again, but right now he basically has congestive heart failure. So it’s one of those deals where, if it’s the perfect day and it’s just the two of us and we’re going to kill ten birds or whatever, we might take him. Otherwise it’s kind of impractical, because he wants to do everything. He can’t hold back, so I have to do that for him.
Honestly, we retire most of our dogs earlier than a lot of people do. Nine, maybe ten is pushing it. The last Lab I retired at eight, maybe eight or nine. With Gator, it was mostly a matter of watching him. After we’d hunt him, even if he didn’t pick much up, he’d get so worked up and excited that he’d be really sore afterward.
It’s one of those things; dogs won’t stop. They’ll literally kill themselves trying to work and do what they love, and they’re not smart enough to know when to call it quits. So at some point you have to make that decision for them. It was not an easy call for me, but he doesn’t really know the difference. He’s got his little ball in the house; he loves fetching that, and he’ll still steal bumpers from the kennels and drag them into the yard. Doing all the things a retired dog does.
Split Reed: Do you think God puts specific dogs in our lives for a reason?
Yeah, I definitely do. I really think He has a reason for everything He does. My husband and I are both believers, and we know dogs are a big part of that story. I think there was a reason I got that dog in college and went the direction I did, and a reason my husband got his first dog when he did.
When I lost my other dog, the lady who bred Moose, my first Jack Russell, happened to have one puppy left. I remember thinking, “I don’t really want one right now, but I’m just going to do it,” and I ended up with Gator. He’s been a blessing in my life for sure. There will never be another one like him, and honestly, at this point I don’t know if I can get another Jack Russell because I don’t think I could handle losing another one.
I was talking to a couple of guys in the field trial world, true legends, the guys who really helped start it all. They’re in their 80s and pushing 90 now. They told me about the Jack Russells they had back in the ’90s, and neither of them has had one since. They said they just couldn’t bear the thought of losing another Jack Russell. These are guys who’ve produced some of the best labs in the country, hands down. They said, “When a Lab dies, we just get another one. But we could not even stand the thought of getting another Jack Russell.” And I get it. They steal your heart. I don’t know what it is about them, but they do.
Split Reed: What is one lesson Gator has taught you not just about dogs and hunting but about life itself?
I’d say hunting with Gator and my husband taught me to have fun. It’s not meant to be super serious. We’ve always tried to keep it light and enjoy it. Starting that journey with Gator really taught me not to take life so seriously all the time. As you grow up, you realize it’s not the end of the world when certain things happen.
That’s been a huge lesson for me with Gator and my husband. Hunting with his old dog and Gator, laughing, having a good time, meeting new people. Gator has introduced us to so many people through hunting and his story. So I’d say: have fun with it. Enjoy it. Have fun with your dogs because they’re not here long enough. Enjoy them, but also be their advocate. If it’s time to pull the plug on hunting them, just do it. That was the hardest thing for me with Gator, but I had to.
An Unlikely Legacy
In the end, Gator’s story is less about a Jack Russell doing lab work and more about what happens when heart, faith, and good training collide. Alex took a dog nobody would’ve circled as a “duck dog” and, using the same program she puts on high‑end trial Labs, turned him into a field‑proven hunter, a test dog at master‑level setups, and more importantly, a core part of her family.
Gator is a reminder of what makes bird dogs so remarkable: their drive, their grit, their ability to surprise you no matter the breed. At the end of the day, pedigrees and stereotypes aside, with the right genetics, foundation, and person at the other end of the lead, just about any dog can turn out to be a duck dog.