Built for the Rough. Born from Necessity.
Some companies start in boardrooms. FieldSkin started in a duck blind.
Long before there were prototypes, technical fabrics, or product testing, there was simply a hunter and his dog. Her name was May.
And she changed everything.

The Dog That Wasn't Supposed to Hunt
May wasn't supposed to be a hunting dog. She was a family dog.
A red Golden Retriever with an obsession for tennis balls and an endless amount of energy.
But from the beginning, there was something different about her.
She loved to retrieve. She loved to work. And she loved being outdoors.
When she was less than a year old, she was already running blind retrieves and showing the kind of focus and determination normally seen in seasoned hunting dogs.
What started as simple training sessions quickly turned into something more.
May had found her purpose.
And her owner, Ben, had found his hunting partner.
A Bond Built in the Field
For Ben, hunting wasn't a hobby. It was part of who he was.
Growing up in rural Missouri, he spent countless mornings outdoors alongside his father and a succession of hardworking hunting dogs. Long before sunrise, they were already walking fields, setting decoys, and learning lessons that had little to do with hunting and everything to do with discipline, respect, and hard work.
The bond between hunter and dog was always part of that experience.

A good dog isn't just equipment. They're family. They're teammates.
They're the first ones into the water and the last ones to quit.
May embodied all of that.
She hunted with relentless enthusiasm, whether conditions were perfect or miserable.
And then one day, a problem appeared.
The Day Everything Changed
It happened during a hunt. The kind of cold morning every waterfowl hunter knows well.
May had already made several retrieves.
Then something unusual happened. When Ben sent her for another bird, she didn't move.
At first, it didn't make sense. May never hesitated.
But when he walked over to her, the reason became obvious.
Burrs. Hundreds of them.
They had worked deep into her coat and down to her skin. Every movement caused pain. Her fur was tangled. Her skin was irritated. She wasn't refusing to work.
She was hurting.

Standing there in the marsh, watching his dog struggle, Ben realized something that many hunters had simply accepted for generations:
There wasn't a real solution.
Hunters had technical gear. Dogs had very little.
Looking for an Answer
Back at home, Ben started searching for products that could protect a hunting dog from the realities of rough terrain.
He found vests. He found flotation devices. He found cold-weather gear.
What he didn't find was protection.
Nothing addressed burrs.
Nothing protected most of the dog's body.
Nothing combined mobility, durability, camouflage, and coverage into a single solution.
The more he looked, the more obvious the gap became.
For decades, outdoor gear innovation had focused on hunters.
Meanwhile, dogs—the animals doing some of the hardest work in the field—were largely overlooked.
From Sketches to Prototypes
So Ben decided to build the solution himself.
The first versions of what would eventually become FieldSkin were far from perfect.
There were sketches on paper. Fabric spread across tables.
Countless hours of cutting, sewing, testing, and redesigning.

Some prototypes failed immediately.
Others worked in certain conditions but restricted movement.
Every version taught a lesson.
The goal was never to make a dog costume.
The goal was to create a piece of technical hunting gear worthy of the dogs wearing it.
Something tough enough to handle burrs, brush, cold water, and abrasion.
Something flexible enough that dogs could run, leap, swim, and retrieve without restriction.
Something they would barely notice they were wearing.
Rethinking What Hunting Dog Gear Could Be
As the concept evolved, the mission became bigger than solving one problem for one dog.
FieldSkin challenged a long-standing assumption in the hunting world:
That dogs simply had to endure conditions that people protected themselves from.
Hunters wear specialized clothing engineered for performance.
Why shouldn't working dogs?
That question guided every stage of development.
FieldSkin incorporated lessons from technical outdoor apparel, performance fabrics, biomechanics, and real-world field testing.
Every seam, material, stretch panel, and protective zone was designed around how dogs actually move.
Because protection means nothing if it limits performance.
Built for Dogs That Work
Today, May is still part of the story. She remains the reason FieldSkin exists.
Not because she inspired a product.
Because she revealed a problem worth solving.

The mission that started with one hunting dog has expanded to include every dog that pushes through thick cover, crashes through cattails, retrieves in icy water, and works without hesitation when called upon.
FieldSkin exists to protect those dogs.
The dogs that never quit.
The dogs that don't know how to hold back.
The dogs that would run through anything if it meant doing the job they love.
More Than a Product
At its core, FieldSkin isn't really about fabric.
It's about respect.
Respect for the dogs that make every hunt possible.
Respect for the bond between hunter and dog.
And respect for the idea that working dogs deserve equipment designed specifically for the challenges they face.
What began with May in a duck blind has grown into a mission:
To build better protection for dogs that work.
Because every great hunting story starts with a dog.
And this one did too.