“Titanic Sinks Four Hours After Hitting Iceberg” (16 April 1912); “The First Footstep” (21 July 1969); “Obama: Racial Barrier Falls in Decisive Victory” (5 November 2008): these are among the most iconic headlines in history, according to Google.

I would like to throw another one into the mix: “How to train a dog to detect cows in heat – training and success” (10 August 2015).

The said arrangement was attached to an email from a work colleague, who had also found the title eyebrow-raising. It belonged to an article in an academic journal called Applied Animal Behaviour Science. This was scientific publication; it had to be the real deal.

My initial scepticism swiftly lifted. It could not be a case of a sensationalised, Murdoch-esque word jumble designed to hook a curious reader into clicking on an otherwise placid piece. Not a “one millionth visitor – click to claim your prize” panel in sight.

My immediate reaction was to take the Lord’s name in vain, before slipping into a spontaneous episode of desk-dreaming. This was going to be great. No more heat patches or tail pint. No more “is-she-isn’t-she?” head-scratching in the field, 20 minutes before you are due in work. The dog would be de-leashed at the gate, bark-on-bulling and probably round them up himself while at it.

The trial was carried out in Germany and involved 200 housed Holstein-Friesians and six dogs. Dogs were scent-trained to walk behind head-stalled cows and pause at those in heat. Cows were correctly identified as being positive (for oestrus) in 72% of cases and correctly detected as being negative in 93% of cases.

Practical questions

In their conclusion, the authors were sceptical about the practicality of using dogs commercially. Feed had to be removed from the cows so that it would not interfere with the relevant scents. One of the dogs was also very nervous around the cows and had to be removed from the study. They also questioned whether dogs would maintain the performance, enthusiasm and motivation in a repetitive, real-life setting.

I won’t be sending our pup off for training just yet. Kimi (after F1 driver Kimi Raikkonen, not Kanye’s missus) hails from the mean streets of Inchicore in Dublin city and arrived here at four weeks of age.

Over a year later, our pint-sized pooch has taken to the cattle as well as a coeliac to a bake sale. His one weakness is a piece of ham – though his profound sense of mischief means that stocks do not last too long. Following a Saturday shop, I’m usually on jam sandwiches by Wednesday.

Looks like it is tail paint in 2016.