Silence of the squirrels

Squirrels are great little sprinters and it's always impressive when a dog can catch one. After the catch ... maybe not so much fun. Definitely no fun for the squirrel.

Yesterday I was out with my three, and I guess I had a moment of inattention because Tally lunged for a squirrel and her leash just jumped right out of my hand. At first I thought "No biggie. She'll tree it then stand barking at the base of the tree and I'll go get her." I was a little flabbergasted that she caught it with absolutely no problem. She's an amazingly fast little dog.

For a second it looked like the squirrel would get away, because Tally released it ... no, then she caught it again, wounding it this time. She kept catching it, releasing it and catching it again like a cat would, and I couldn't stand to watch. So I let go of Lucy and Pinky, knowing that Lucy would go straight for the kill and end the poor squirrel's suffering. She did, with one quick bite.

So then I had three dogs playing tug-of-war with a dead squirrel, and I was hoping to creep in and grab their leashes before ... too late. Tally gained control of the squirrel and took off with the other two in pursuit. I became the crazy dog lady running down the street screaming her dog's names in vain. It was a nice day and neighbors were out, too.

Lucky for me Tally wanted to enjoy her prize on her home turf. She led us all straight home and when I caught up I only had to open the gate to the back yard and everyone ran in. Tally proceeded to take victory laps around the yard with her treasure while the other two chased her.

I didn't want to have to go searching for the squirrel or its bits later (when it was likely to start stinking) so I needed to get Tally to drop it. A while back I got Pinky to drop a dead rat (killed by Lucy) by throwing cheese at her, so I went in to get some food. I grabbed some meatballs--perfect for throwing! I also grabbed the camera, and here's what followed:



And no matter how many times I do it, I can never get over my squeamishness and revulsion at having to pick up a dead critter ...

In other news, Tally is adorable, if occasionally annoying:

My little stick of dynamite

It's been almost five months since I got Talladega, and I'm really amazed with her. When she first showed up it was hard to even live with her. She was terribly rude and ill-behaved, and thought the best way to get a human to play was to bite a face or appendage. She wasn't house trained and couldn't be trusted out of my sight at any time whatsoever unless she was in a crate. Now she's house-trained (provided I make sure she gets out at the right times), only slightly rude and occasionally ill-behaved, and can be trusted out of my sight for minutes at a time! She still tries to nip the occasional face, but we're working on that.

But all that will come and I don't mind it so much because I think she's going to be a kick-ass little agility dog. Our major problem has been focus. She's so into everything and everyone (she loves the world and the world loves her!) that it's been hard for her to stay working with me when there are possibly exciting things around. Over the past six weeks I've had her in two classes designed to work on exactly that, and she's made remarkable improvement. She's not 100 percent yet, but she's good enough that I think can "mainstream" her into a normal agility class.

Meanwhile, on my own, I've been working on obstacle performance, and she's a dream. She learns so quickly and seems to really have a great time. She also overcomes her fears quickly; she's gotten a little startled by the teeter, and flew off the dogwalk once, but she's always willing to give it another go right away. This is a huge contrast to Pinky, who gets really shaken at the smallest scare. She was startled on the dogwalk once and I couldn't get her to approach it again. I had to start all over again on a low contact trainer and work all the way back up.

I've still got a lot of work to do on her jumping skills, and the weaves are a work in progress, but I've got time; based on the vet's age estimate, Tally won't even be old enough to compete in USDAA until next April. And I'm trying not to even focus on that, because I really want to enjoy the process. Now that I'm really getting her attention, training her is amazingly fun.

A great side effect of Tally's success is that she's made me completely relax about training Pinky, because now I know I'll have a dog to run when Lucy retires. Pinky can stay in training for years. This has had a wonderful effect on her training. With me relaxed, Pinky relaxes and we make good progress. Duh! I actually knew this would be the case, but it was getting myself to REALLY relax, as opposed to just pretending to relax, that was the key. Dogs notice!

It's a game. It needs to be fun!

Do our dogs bitch about us after a run?

I had a good time doing USDAA this past weekend. Lucy was fabulous and I wasn't too bad either. We got a few Qs (2 Snooker super Qs and 1 Jumpers) and missed a few, but we were a good team all weekend.

But I've got a little rant inside me that I need to let loose ...

Over the weekend I got really sick of listening to people bitch about how something their dog did ruined their run. I felt like if I heard an indignant "S/he knows better!" one more time I was in danger of slapping whoever said it. It's almost heartbreaking to see someone out on a course with a dog who was trying hard to do the right thing, getting confusing, late or no instructions, and then getting lectured by the handler ("what were you doing? You're not listening Blah blah blah!") as they come off course.

If our poor dogs could talk amongst themselves they would probably be saying stuff like "What was s/he thinking waiting until I was on the landing side of the jump before telling me I needed to turn?" or "All of a sudden s/he moved in a way s/he never does in training, and it just threw me completely off and I popped a weave. She never does that--I don't know what got into her!" or "S/he was driving right toward that jump so I thought I was supposed to take it. Then s/he started screeching in a panicky voice 'Here here HERE HERE!!!' and it frightened me out of my wits. I slowed waaay down after that and hesitated before the rest of the jumps because I wanted to know for darn sure I was supposed to take it so s/he wouldn't yell at me again ..."

Full disclosure: I used to blame Lucy for stuff that was my fault all the time. So I'm not holier than anyone. (And I really hope I didn't make too huge a fuss about it to other people because god, it's awful to have to listen to!) At some point, however, I realized what a stupid dope I was and that Lucy was actually really, really good at this stuff and I was the one who sucked. And after that we just started getting better and better. I really wish I could share that revelation with the people I hear bitching about their dogs, but that would amount to saying "hey, your dog is great but you suck!" And that's pretty much an awful thing to say to anyone. I probably would have cried if anyone had ever said it to me even though it was the truth.

So I don't know if there's much a of a solution for me on this issue, aside from turning away and refusing to listen to anyone who's dissing their dog. Or maybe I should try sarcasm (I'm really, really good at that) and say something like "Yes, it's a shame that your dog keeps screwing up when you're always so perfect out there."

Or maybe I'll just come here and rant whenever it gets to me ...

But now a fun bit to counteract all my negativity! At one point over the weekend, Derrell Stover "got" me with a little joke: He asked, when I was bar-setting, whether I had raised the chute. I actually stopped, thought and looked toward the chute before I realized it was a joke. I had a good chuckle and decided I'd have to try it on someone else. So before our Standard run on Sunday, after table legs and whatnot had been changed for P 12", I asked the judge (Melanie Behrens) if she had lowered the chute. Yeah, I got her! But then in our run that followed, Lucy apparently decided the chute wasn't low enough:

Practice, practice ....

practice pose
Originally uploaded by bunchofpants

I want to be able to put all three dogs into a sit or a down, move away, and have them all stay put while I take photos. Lucy is a champ at this. Pinky's getting better, but will change her sit to a down if she doesn't get a reward right away for the sit, because she thinks a down is a more lucrative position. Tally ... well I'm lucky if I can keep her is a sit for more than a moment, and she definitely doesn't stay while I move away. But we'll keep practicing ...

My lesson of the week: Stand up!

I did three days of agility with Lucy in a trial on home turf over the Labor Day weekend. Not three full days--I don't ask the old girl to do that any more--I only entered her in three events per day. We had some great successes: a Jumpers Q (for the PIII jumpers title); two standard Qs (the first of which got us the PIII Standard title), and two more Snooker Super Qs (one more Snooker Q and we'll have PIII Snooker Bronze!) Our pairs run was beautiful; unfortunately our partner E'd, but we had a good time.

Notice I haven't mentioned any Gamblers Qs? Since achieving the ADCH and moving over to Performance, we have yet to get a gamble. I'm starting to think I should just stop entering Gamblers, since I'm not chasing the APD title. Maybe I should just enter the things we're really good at until I retire Lucy. Why keep trying at something that only leads to frustration? On the other hand, I keep thinking that sooner or later we'll do it. I work on gamble skills when we train (although now that she's getting old I don't spend a lot of time training her). It's something to think about.

Overall, the trial felt very positive and rewarding to me, and Lucy was running fast and seemed like she was having a good time out there. But I had one moment where I did a really boneheaded move that I knew was wrong, wrong, wrong, and that prematurely ended what was shaping up to be a fabulous Snooker run: I bent over to pull my dog into handler focus. Of course, it did not draw her toward me, as I intended, but pushed her out and away, so she jumped the #2 closing obstacle in the wrong direction.

I had been trying to threadle Lucy. There are lots of ways I could have handled this successfully, none of which involve bending over, and I had even planned to do it correctly (with a "backy-uppy" move) in the walkthrough. The problem is that to us humans, it seems like bending over should draw the dog in, so in a pinch or a panic, we resort to stupid instinct. To dogs, us bending over looks like we are pushing or pointing ourselves toward an obstacle (probably the wrong one). I used to make this mistake all the time with contact/tunnel discriminations. I want the near obstacle so I lean in toward Lucy thinking I'm somehow "engaging her," but she thinks I'm indicating the far obstacle. I see my friends do it all the time, and if they say "I don't know why she took X instead of Y" I can say "oh, you leaned over. You need to stand up straight."

So the fact that I know better and did it anyway makes me feel like even more of a dope. But I'm a trainable dope, I think. I swear if I got a do-over I wouldn't do the same mistake again. Maybe a whole new mistake to learn from, but not that one!

Fun with judges' discretion

I ran Lucy in a USDAA trial in Colfax, NC, on Friday and Saturday. It was hosted with a brand-new club (Carolina Piedmont Agility) at a brand-new site (well, the site's been there for a while--it's a horse arena, but it's new to agility) and it really couldn't have been nicer. I'll definitely be going back.

I only entered Lucy in 4 classes on Friday and three on Saturday because now that she's old, I need to lighten up. We did pretty well--a Snooker Super Q and a Pairs Q (netting us our PIII relay title) on Friday, and another Super Q and a Standard Q on Saturday. I so wish I had gotten Saturday's Standard run on video, because it was exactly the kind of run that keeps me doing agility. I was where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there, and Lucy corresponded. Alas, you'll just have to take my word that occasionally I'm a really good handler!

Our Saturday Snooker run was another story. (It was caught on video by a friend, but I don't have it to post. Not sure if I want to, either.) I had made a simple plan, but then executed it badly, and at one point, after completing the 2-part number six obstacle in the opening, Lucy then back-jumped 6b (or, I should say, my bad handling caused her to back jump). I assumed I was toast and started heading to the finish line, but I wasn't hearing a whistle ... why no whistle? Then Lucy, smart little dog who apparently has learned the "if you don't hear a whistle just keep going" rule, decided to jump a red, which happened to be the red I had planned to go to after the number six anyway. I heard the judge call "One!" Holy moley, I thought, I'm still alive here! So I just proceeded with the rest of my plan, pushing for speed because I'd wasted time thinking I was cooked. The rest of the course was gorgeous! We finished before the buzzer with 42 points (which, because no one else in the running got enough points to even qualify, gained us a Super Q). But why didn't we get whistled off after that number 6?

I asked a few people and no one seemed to really know, so I buttonholed my friend Derrell Stover, who's a judge in addition to being one of the most awesome handlers I've ever seen. He told me there are two schools of thought about how to judge what we did, and our Judge (Allison Bryant) apparently subscribes to the Cheri Wittenberg philosophy, which is: we had successfully completed that obstacle combo, and we then faulted it before attempting another red and therefore we were not pointed for it but could continue to accumulate points. However, he said that if it happened again under a judge who subscribed to the Tom Kula school of thought it could be considered an off-course and we could be whistled off. For some reason I find these issues of discretion fascinating ... it sort of adds to the excitement of Snooker, really. Or maybe that's just me being geeky.

At any rate, the lesson, which I should have already learned by now (and Lucy seems to know!) is if I don't hear a whistle just keep going, even if I know I screwed up. As it was, lucky little Lucy saved my butt, but I'm supposed to be the one thinking out there.

Patience, possibilities, payoffs ...

Tonight I felt like I had a big breakthrough. I've been struggling for the past few months to walk three dogs, two of whom are young and full of themselves. Talladega has been the toughest of the three, because when I got her at the end of May, she was almost like a little savage with absolutely no self-control whatsoever. On the leash she was awful, especially when we crossed paths with other dogs. She absolutely loves other dogs and thinks it's her god-given right to meet them all. She would ignore food, even if it was right under her face, preferring to whimper, bark and pull toward the other dog. It was mighty frustrating. But I tried to remain steadfast and patient, and tonight, for the first time ever, whenever we passed other dogs (three times), she fell into line at my side with the other two, looking up at me and not the other dogs. It was beautiful! One guy said "It looks like they're synchronized!" Of course, Tally's learned by now that not only is she never, ever going to get to go say hi to that other dog, but that Charlee Bears are pretty good and there's probably going to be one for her when we get past the other dogs. It also helped that I spent a lot of time hand-feeding her meals in exchange for attention, tricks etc., so she's learned that food has value.

She's also a whiz to train in general. After working her with the wobble board and skateboard, I decided to try some other cool stuff with her. A friend lent me a little wooden spool so I could try to teach Tally to roll it with her front feet while walking with her back (it's a first step in teaching a dog to do something like pushing a baby carriage). All I did was get a bag of treats and set the spool in front of me, and the first thing Tally did was put her front feet on it and start rolling it! I think after the skate board she just assumed that's what I wanted. I was completely amazed. I also wanted to teach her to push a playground ball with her nose, but when I put the ball in front of her she put her front feet on it and started rolling it with them while she walked on her hind legs! We still have some coordination issues to work out before she can sustain the spool and ball tricks for more than five or six steps, so I have some practicing to do. By that point maybe I'll have picked up a tripod so I can video it all properly. She's a truly amazing little dog.

I have a lot of focus work to do to move forward with her agility training. It's hard for her to keep her mind off the people, other dogs and great smells in class. She's improving, however, and next session we're signed up for a Focus and Motivation class taught by Melanie Miller (I took the class last summer with Pinky). I'm hoping it helps.

As for Pinky, moving her down to the "baby" level class was the best thing, I think. Making things very simple and progressing very slowly turned out to be exactly what she needs. She's really blossoming doesn't seem nearly as nervous as she used to be. She seems to enjoy the class much more than when I was trying to have her on a more accelerated track. I was just asking too much to quickly.

And Lucy is still good little Lucy. We took another distance class because gambles are still tough for us, and I learned that I'm relying too much on body cues for "right" and "left" and not enough for verbals. When your dog is heading directly away from you to a distant gamble obstacle, they're not necessarily going to see the body cue for a change of direction. They have to hear it (something I should have remembered and worked on after Stuart Mah, but I didn't).

My dogs are filling me with optimism ...