I've Got This . . .

Today I took Cadence outside to do some variations on our post-FCE rehab exercises.  I had some fitness discs set up to do some body awareness work with him.  As I had just been doing some contact training with Fate, I still had the teeter plank set up between two raised tables out in the yard.  Cadence had been doing OK walking along a plank on the ground, so we decided that if he was doing well with his exercises, we would see if he could walk across the elevated plank.  Of course, Lowell and I would be on either side of him, he would be on leash, have his assistive harness on, and would do it in a controlled manner. 

Cadence had other ideas.  Apparently bored with his exercise discs, this is what he did to my surprise, then horror, then delight . . .



After that excitement, we continued with the original plan.  Gave him a little bit of a new challenge with the discs today but he handled it pretty well:


Afterwards we did some post-FCE agility rehab:


It was a good day.

Old Dogs and Wine . . . Just Get Better With Age

Finally getting around to posting this - this was my favorite run from CPE Nationals this June with my 11-year old border collie, Django.  This Snooker run was our last run of the weekend.  I had worried a bit going in to Nationals about how well Django could hold up to three days of trialing at his age, but it turned out I had nothing to worry about.  We may not be the fastest out there these days, but we sure are happy together.

Here Comes a Comeback . . .

At CPE Nationals in June, I bought myself a silver bracelet with pawprints and the words "Overcome Every Obstacle" inscribed on it.  I thought of the training obstacles we all face, whether it is getting reliable contacts, combatting ring nerves (ours or our dog's), or keeping jump bars up.  At the time, Cadence was at a point where I was starting to enter him in trials regularly - not just one run here or there at a random trial - and I was so proud of the progress we had made as a team.  We had overcome so many of our training obstacles and in the process had formed a special relationship that I can't really describe.

Before the month was out, he had his "spinal stroke," and suddenly there was a new obstacle to overcome.  I wear that bracelet every day.

The neurologist told me Cadence could continue to play agility.  Right now, I disagree.  He doesn't have the coordination in his rear leg to safely do a dogwalk, teeter, or probably a tire safely.  But the rehab vet told us there was no reason we couldn't start to play around to see what he can do.  So we did . . .

If I Knew Then . . . It’s Not About Agility

Today is the second “Dog Agility Blog Event” day, where dog agility bloggers have been invited to write on the subject “If I knew then what I know now.”

I tried to think about what the most important thing I’ve learned has been over my ten-plus years in the dog agility world.  In that time, I have happily immersed myself in training books, DVDs, seminars, weekend camps, publications, blogs, etc.  I have taken lessons with many instructors, taken weekly classes almost continuously, competed at least monthly, and traveled to national competitions for several years running.  It is one of my biggest obsessions, and while, as with anything, there is always a ton more to learn, I have definitely increased my knowledge and skills over the years.  So what is the most important thing I’ve learned? 

That it isn’t about any of these things, really. 

When we brought our first dog, Jade, home, we had never trained a dog before, and wanted to have a well-behaved pet.  We immediately signed up for companion obedience classes at a local training facility.  We loved class and all of us looked forward to it each week.  Jade would happily do seemingly anything for cheese, and we were delighted to see how you can train a dog to sit, stay, lie down, and walk nicely all without force.  We had a blast, and loved how connected we felt when training Jade.  So, once we graduated from the companion obedience classes, we decided to sign up for one of their agility classes, just for fun.

We were all hooked from the start.  Jade was a natural athlete and took to it immediately.  We delighted at watching him soar over the jumps and wiggle his lean body through the weave poles.  Having never trained a dog before, it felt like being able to communicate with another species when I could teach him to do something as unnatural as going over a teeter.  We made new friends, began exploring other dog sports and activities, and thus, Jade changed our lives.

The years passed, our hobby grew into an obsession, and we acquired four more dogs and trained them to play agility as well.  Today, Jade and Tristan are retired, Django is going strong in the Veteran’s class, Maebe is tearing up the courses, and Cadence is coming into his own and starting to look like an agility dog himself. 

And somewhere in there, this all became so . . . SERIOUS.

There are handling systems, jumping programs, dozens of ways to teach contacts and weaves, and deeply held convictions about all these things.  In classes we still socialize and have fun with our fellow classmates, but we also obsess and argue and worry about the pros and cons of where to place a front cross with almost religious fervor. 

When did this become something to worry about?  When my first dog picked up a numbered cone and ran around the course happily, I laughed watching him be a silly dog.  When my fifth one breaks into running laps around the training ring in a class because I was late with the next cue, I am ready to die of embarrassment and wonder why I am still such a crappy trainer.

As much as I love agility, it has been in other moments lately that I’ve come to remember what this is really about – our relationship with our dogs, and what an amazing, mysterious thing that is.  It isn’t about agility, it is about:

. . . watching my senior BC Tristan happily trot up a trail in our favorite woods, still able to enjoy a good hike even though his agility career was cut short in order to preserve his imperfect knees and back.

. . . waking up on a camping trip with Maebe, wild woman on the course, curled around my head asleep on my pillow.

. . . seeing Cadence’s many talents come through as a therapy dog with an uncanny sense of what people are feeling (especially me) and now watching him bloom in his recent herding lessons – and realizing how many careers and roles our dogs can have.

. . . not really caring if Django ever hits another dog walk contact again or finishes another title in his life, since at age 10 he continues to run with more enthusiasm and joy than ever.

. . . winning our own personal Backyard Agility National Championships at home during a lunchtime training session.

. . . watching the sun rise together on a morning run with our canine workout partners, where the only obstacles are the occasional fallen tree to hop over.

. . . treasuring every neighborhood walk we take with our first agility dog Jade, once a phenomenal graceful athlete, who now ambles along with us on wobbly legs at a much slower pace.

This is why I own, and love, dogs. 

I love agility too.  And, yes, I do follow a handling system, have almost religious beliefs about clicker training, and spend my leisure time watching training videos on Saturday nights.  But I am trying to stop losing sleep over whether or not it is OK if my dog hits his two on/two off contact, but doesn’t offer a nose touch at the same time.  Not that I don’t believe in criteria – I like doing things well, and I do believe there is joy in the challenge.  The problem is when it becomes more about the challenge than the joy. 

Agility should be another way to experience that joy with my dog.  That is what it is about, and the best lesson I have learned.

And the thing is – I always knew that, right from the beginning.  So it isn’t about “if I knew then, what I know now.”  It is more about remembering now what I knew then.

A Weekend in the Life of a Noodle

Lowell happened to take a number of great pictures of Cadence this weekend, enjoying some of his favorite activities, so I thought they were worthy of a post.  Plus, it makes my job easy.

Friday night, enjoying the new dog bed after a run with us and Django.  New bed was purchased as a replacement after SOMEBODY decided its predecessor had to die a couple weeks ago.  Cadence has a love/hate relationship with anything comfortable – it’s complicated.

After the latest thaw last week, our yard was finally dry enough to try out our new dog walk.  It has been a little while since Cadence has had access to a regular dog walk, so we brushed up on his contact work a bit.

Finished off with a few set-point jump exercises.  I love his jump form.  And love that we are able to do backyard agility in Michigan in mid-February, even if this weather is a bit odd.

Finally, on Sunday, we followed up a therapy dog visit (our third of the weekend) with a nice, if muddy, hike.

Another in our series of extreme-close up photos:

Picking our way through the mud . . . 

Noodle in deep reflection . . .

    Hiking partner, Maebe, looking pretty . . .

We like to make the most of our weekends.  All of us wanted to hit the snooze button a few extra times this morning though.

Practice

In the summers, many of our weekends are filled with dog agility trials, triathlons, trail races, and camping trips.  In winter, the competitive season eases up a bit – we still have trials once or twice a month, and the occasional winter race, but the schedule itself isn’t quite as packed.

In theory.  In actuality, we’ve been going non-stop since the new year, planning for the season ahead of us, setting goals for ourselves and the dogs, and starting to do the work we need to do to get there.

Admittedly, we have a lot of interests.  And we joke that life in our house is like a military operation, with a packed schedule of what we have to do, and where we have to be, when.  We are all Border Collies at heart in our household after all.

This winter, I decided to finally make the commitment to improve my swimming technique.  It was clear that after my initial improvement in my first couple years of triathlon, I was no longer getting faster doing what I was doing, and remained a confident, but middle-of-the-pack, swimmer.  Fast swimming relies so much on good form, and while I understood the theory of proper technique, I couldn’t identify what I was doing right or wrong.  I needed coaching if I wanted to improve.

The swimming leg of a triathlon is almost ridiculously short in comparison to the other two legs.  The majority of your time is typically spent on the bike, then the run.  But to become a good swimmer can be a considerable investment of time and effort.  Consequently, a certain percentage of triathletes seem to take the opinion that as long as they know they are strong enough to not drown out there, that is good enough.  And, for some, maybe there’s a slight argument to that.  Those of us who are strong on the bike do like to joke about “fishing,” or chasing the fast swimmers down on the bike leg, which often gives us ample time to do so.

But the thing was, if I’m going to do something, I like to do it well.  I don’t expect to be perfect and master every new activity I try.  I’m not really aiming for agility World Team, or winning the local triathlon. But if I’m interested enough to spend my time doing something, I want to do the best job I can, given the time and resources I have available to invest in it, and whatever genetics has given me to work with.

So this winter, our schedule has consisted of two nights a week of swim conditioning class, two nights a week of dog training classes, bi-weekly swim coaching sessions, and now monthly tri-focused swim clinics.

Although I like to do things well, historically I have been quite resistant to taking instruction or feedback.  In the past couple years, I have tried to really work on this – to fight the voice that wants to argue with or defend myself to an instructor who is giving me constructive feedback.  Instead, I listen, consider the information, give what they are suggesting a try, and decide how it is working for me. 

A recent example:  I was at a “stitch and bitch” knitting circle earlier this winter and was doing Fair Isle color work on a hat, which is not something I do a whole lot of.  A much more experienced knitter noticed that I was doing something wrong, and pointed it out to me.  In the past, I might have been annoyed and ignored the advice, coming up with some reason in my head to justify the way I was doing it, but I had to admit I knew she was right and I was being lazy in not bothering to learn a particular technique.  Instead, I asked her if she could show me what I should do, and she taught me the correct technique in seconds.  The hat might have been a stretched-out disaster otherwise, but instead it turned out pretty cool, if I don’t say so myself. 

Since making this change, I’ve been noticing how many other people also struggle with feedback.  I’m amazed to watch people spend considerable amounts of money on classes only to argue with and ignore the instruction of people who are well-qualified to help.  These people never improve and then wonder why.  They refuse to try new approaches, and state their conviction that “That won’t work for me/my dog” with no real justification of why not.

Certainly, it is important to pick your teachers wisely, and one always needs to be the judge of what is best for yourself, for your dog, for your ultimate goals, etc.  But considering that you have done your research well in selecting your instructors, and that there are no physical, safety, or ethical concerns in following their advice, I’ve discovered that letting go of ego can really open up your experiences and bring about new successes.

So far, this has been a very productive winter.  I’ve taken 10 seconds off of my 50 yard swim time already.  And I am getting closer to being able to execute a flip turn without somersaulting around like a drowning drunk person.  I’m delighted with how Cadence’s classes have been coming along – he is more focused on me and on the task at hand, is getting more able to deal with distraction, and he has been showing me some really nice things that make me pleased with all the time I’ve been spending just on foundation work.  Django is continuing to please me with his renewed drive and enthusiasm for agility.  It is obvious that taking the time this past year to train and work within a consistent handling system has given him new confidence, as he no longer needs to make guesses about what I want him to do. 

Do I follow every bit of instruction given to me?  Heck, no.  Sometimes I’m just too lazy, too reluctant to give up bad habits, or I have found that something else really does work better for me or my dog’s particular situation.  And I still feel resistance rising in me when I’m hearing something I don’t want to hear, or learning that something I thought I did well actually needs improvement.  But I’m learning to bite my tongue, shut up, give something a try, and see where it gets me, because often it is right where I wanted to be.

This winter, I have been grateful for the good instruction that has been available to me, and to the continual opportunities I have to learn new things.

How Django Plays Agility for the Daddy

I’m still nursing a very tight calf muscle from last weekend’s 5K race (with another race in one week, yikes!).  So, Lowell was asked to handle Django in our agility class last night so I could rest on the sidelines.  They’ve successfully run one whole Jumpers course together in the past, so I figured it would be fine.

Lowell and Django lined up at the start line, Lowell led out to the second jump and gave Django his release word.  Django continued to stare intently at his daddy for about another second, before giving him the vote of no confidence, turning around, and walking over to me.

So, I hobbled around a couple courses with him, and during the down time used Django’s tennis ball to try and massage out the resulting muscle spasms.  Something better work soon – we have two days of trialing in the next week plus the race.  And the plan to have Lowell do all the handling apparently isn’t going to work (especially once I remembered that we are his and Maebe’s Pairs Partner – oops). 

In all my years of running, this is the first injury I’ve ever had, and quite frankly it is pissing me off.  Seriously, you probably don’t want to be around me when I have to take a “rest” day, much less three or more of them in a row.  There’s a reason I’m drawn to Border Collies after all.  Fortunately, after reading the amazing book, Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, earlier this week, I have a new plan for revising my running once I’m back to health:

Toe shoes.  Barefoot (almost) running.  It’s the next big thing, man.  But honestly, the evidence against most modern running shoes is quite compelling.  Who knew that Nike was systematically crippling us and working against the centuries of evolution that made us the perfect endurance runners that, by nature, we are.

But I digress.  All I know is Django had a rough night last night.  He has another hot spot forming on his flank, his mommy was hurting and not happy as a result which always gets him upset, and he was feeling crabby and didn’t want anything to do with anyone but me.  Poor DJ.  Mom’s trying to get back on her feet as soon as she can for you, buddy.

Wait, isn’t this supposed to be a blog about dog training?

So what is with all these posts about races and running?

To me, my two loves of dog agility and outdoor sports have a lot of similarities.  First and foremost, both are a lot of fun.  They provide us with opportunities to get outdoors, keep busy, spend time with friends, dogs and each other.  Beyond that though, both teach one about setting goals, developing and sticking to plans, remaining committed, challenging oneself, learning new things, and staying focused.  They teach you about the importance of consistency and criteria.  And every step on the path, every little achievement, is highly rewarding when it is well-earned.

After this weekend’s race, we were discussing why this season has gone better for us than past seasons, and why we are finally seeing improvement.  I came up with two theories:

1) I believe I was more consistent in following my training plan this year.  I started my plan early in the spring and stuck to it with very few exceptions.  This involved setting priorities and making some smaller sacrifices in giving up things that were less important in the long run.

2)  I think in the past I started going longer before I put in the basework to go faster.  Long slow distance runs are great, and if you do a lot of them you can run very long distances.  Slowly.  I enjoyed the challenge of longer-course races, but no matter how many miles I was putting in, my speed didn’t change.  This year, I stuck to sprint distance tris, and tortured myself with hill and speed interval workouts and tempo runs, and I finally think I’m starting to see a payoff.

It occurred to me that these two things – consistency and doing the correct foundation work – are also important elements of dog training, and ones that I have been really trying to adhere to better as I raise my next performance dog, Cadence. 

I confess, consistency and sticking to criteria are my Achilles’ heel of dog training.  I think they are for a lot of us, and may be what sets truly great animal trainers apart.  I have my definite weaknesses.  For example, my love for watching Cadence run full out and playing with the other dogs is probably part of the reason I also struggle in recalling him away from dogs – the act of running with the pack is highly reinforcing to him.

I know this is where I falter in many of my day-to-day training misadventures, but I am proud of one thing where I have been quite consistent with Cade.  When I brought him home, I vowed to only raise and train him with positive methods.  I have never been a “correction trainer", but with our first two dogs I can’t say I never used any aversives either.  I am proud that Cadence has not once received a collar correction, has never worn any type of choke or prong collar, has never been sprayed with a water bottle, or received any of the other types of punishment that even many “positive” trainers sometimes fall back on.  OK, I will admit that my voice tone has probably at times been less than patient and perhaps a bit louder than normal volume when asking him to please stop barking in his crate.  I don’t think he finds that particularly punishing though, and Manners Minder has proved much more effective in stopping that behavior.

Then there is groundwork.  While I do struggle with impatience, I have been committed to giving Cadence the foundation training he needs and to taking my time with him before rushing into agility.

I learned that lesson the long way.  Our first dog, Jade, showed incredible promise for agility.  He is probably our best natural athlete and has incredible drive.  As soon as he knew the obstacles, I rushed to enter him in competition.  We were able to qualify and move through the levels with several manic, barely-under-control runs.  Until one trial when his uncontrolled pace caused him to slip on the dogwalk and then, later that weekend, crash into the barrel part of a chute.  He was never the same in a trial after that.  He was not seriously injured, was not afraid of the obstacles afterwards, and would happily play agility in class, at home, or at fun matches, but found competition to be too stressful.  So at his still-young age, I retired what could have been a champion dog had I known better.

Our second dog, Tristan, was bought as a puppy.  He was incredibly biddable with a strong desire to work.  We hit the ground running, and began training young.  He competed in his first flyball tournament on the weekend of his first birthday – the absolute earliest he was eligible to race (a regulation that I have grown to think is ridiculously too young, by the way).  He also went lame that very weekend.  Within the next year, he would have two major knee surgeries.  Our brilliant, eager worker has had a lifetime struggle with injury, and I will forever wonder if it was due to the early pounding on his body.  It may not be – it may have been genes and poor structure or bad luck – but I have become extremely conservative in what exercise I think is appropriate for puppies now.

Because of these lessons, Cade and I have spent our first year together working on fundamentals.  Playing crate games, working on body awareness, doing Susan Salo’s puppy exercises, working nose targets on flat contact trainers, and doing shadow handling exercises.  Only this spring, after he was a year old, did I start gradually introducing him to regular height jumps, higher contact equipment, and started weave pole training at about 15-16 months.  Perhaps he would have been fine regardless, but I am pleased that he has grown into a very sound, strong, healthy dog.

After taking a few agility classes with Cadence, some of our training challenges also became more evident.  Even for a Border Collie, he is drawn to motion to a remarkable degree.  Anything that moves provides a big distraction, and he becomes easily frustrated when he can’t chase.  I discovered quickly that as long as we were running together, my movement could allow him to focus on the task at hand, but if there was a fast dog in the neighboring ring, or if we were waiting our turn to go, I could lose his attention in a heartbeat.

I want to do things right with him.  I don’t want to have to have all the ring gates closed when he runs at a trial, and I don’t want to stand with him barking incessantly in line.  So, agility class is on hold right now as we take a Control Unleashed class.

Honestly, I was a bit self-conscious about taking a CU class.  I think unfortunately it has the image of being for reactive, aggressive, out of control dogs when in fact that is not who it is designed for at all.  Noodle is not any of those things, but he needs to be able to concentrate in the presence of distractions and we needed the opportunity to work on that.  I was happy to find that the class we joined was made up with handlers in the same boat as us – a freestyle competitor whose gregarious lab likes to visit the ring crew during a performance, an obedience prospect who needs a little more attention in the ring, etc. 

So, yeah, CU isn’t as glamorous or exciting as an agility class.  But it is the foundation he needs if he is going to be the agility dog that I know he can be.  And it is going amazingly well.  His focus is improving greatly, and I have high hopes for our eventual return to agility class, and ultimately competition.

Consistency and groundwork are the themes for us right now.  And patience.  And remembering the reward of doing something right will be worth the effort.

Double Box Fun

Since Cadence's jumpwork and flatwork exercises have been going well, I decided the other day to try him out on little pieces of some Greg Derrett double box exercises, to see how well he did with some short sequencing. I was very proud of the little man. I broke the exercise into very small sequences for now, and the video is actually a couple separate sessions over the course of the evening. I was proud of the baby dog - he had his thinking cap on that night. Even in spite of the train in the distance, the UM Survival Flight helicopter passing overhead, the neighbors using their staple gun . . . the video makes it sound like we live in the middle of a construction zone!



Of course, I also get to watch myself fumble with my toy a few times, have some crappy timing, etc. but he was pretty forgiving.

Progress

Big breakthroughs for the little Noodle last week in his foundation agility class! As Cadence is now 13-months old, I have been gradually increasing the amount of agility training we are doing. We are taking it slow though, and I am trying to do things right from the start rather than rushing and having things to go back and fix later on down the road.

After all the orthopedic problems that Tristan had, I have been very conservative with what I have asked Cadence to do physically up to this point. We spent his first year basically doing obedience, flatwork, impulse control and relationship-building games, Salo puppy jumping exercises, and shaping his end contact behavior (two on/two off) on a flat plank. Things like that. I wasn't worrying about having him jump bars or run over full contact obstacles. He still hasn't even seen weave poles, and won't for probably another couple months.

Fortunately, the above list has given us plenty to work on. By the end of the winter though, I was pretty happy with his flatwork/shadow handling skills and the way he has begun using his body over the jump bumps. So in recent weeks, we have started regular backyard training sessions with increasing obstacle work. He is now running down the down ramp on our mini-dogwalk and assuming his 2-on/2-off position until released, he is running to the end of a low teeter without hesitation, doing a nice auto-down on the table, blasting through chutes and tunnels, and we have begun putting a bar on the jump during his Salo exercises, which he clears nicely.

All along, he has been enrolled in intro agility classes, but I have been using them primarily as a means for proofing with distractions. Cadence is extremely motion-oriented, even by BC standards. He is not reactive or aggressive in the least, but when he watches other dogs run he does have a great urge to scream with excitement. Off leash, he has a great desire to run big Border Collie loops around everyone, so he had not been allowed that opportunity for quite some time. We spent our last session of classes occasionally participating in an exercise, but mostly working on showing impulse control and giving me attention. Thankfully, we had an understanding instructor who let us do our own thing for the most part. At home, we continued to build value for the obstacles, but class was mostly about control and focus.

After a couple-week break between class sessions, we started up again last week. I'd been working him a lot over those off weeks and he immediately was more attentive and calm when we arrived to class this time. After warming up on some single-obstacle exercises, we were ready to run a few little sequences that had been set up. I figured I would keep him on leash as usual, do a couple obstacles, reward him, and call it good. But as it neared our turn, Cade had yet to have a screaming fit and was still nicely focused on me. I had Lowell prepared to run interference just in case Noodle decided he wanted to run the ring gating dividing the two class areas (a fast, vocal BC was running in the course adjacent to us at the time), and decided I would see if our recent work was paying off. I took a deep, calming breath, and slipped off his leash.

Well, my Noodle made me very proud! We ran this, and the following sequences, without a hitch. He lined up and stayed nicely at the start line, stuck with me, followed my handling correctly, kept his criteria on the obstacles, and most importantly, seemed to be having fun. I would reward after every few obstacles, but it was fun to watch him start to figure out that this was the game - that you could do these obstacles one after another, and that you could run! I swear I could see a light bulb go off after he would do the first two obstacles, like he was thinking, "Wait, I can keep going and do another obstacle, and I can do it fast!" With each obstacle he took, I could see him dig in with more confidence and start to accelerate more and more. He had me hustling and even a bit winded at the end of just a short, easy course.

The best part was as we would connect as we were running. I'd see him coming out of the tunnel, our eyes would meet, and I could suddenly see us running his first course, entering his first competition, and becoming a true team. I could see that he was not just my baby Noodle-dog, but also my next agility partner.

We still are in no rush. Even though he made no mistakes this week, he is still nowhere near 100% reliable off-leash, so we will continue our recall and attention work. But we are making progress definitely, and I can see the day somewhere off in the future where we walk into the ring together. For now, I am glad that patience is paying off, and am glad that I am staying committed to the training methods and plan that I have chosen. I hope one day he can be a good example of the benefits of shaping and positive training.

OK, as we left class, I admit he did have to voice his excitement over the whole evening with one vocal outburst, but he quickly pulled it back together and acted like a dignified little Noodle again.

Lest I get too prideful in the aftermath of ClickerExpo . . .

Cade and I did spend an admittedly decent portion of last night's agility class working on not screaming with excitement at the dogs running courses in the adjacent class. Tried to channel the "impulse control" workshop as much as possible. The road isn't necessarily a straight one on our journey, but he's trying hard and we'll get there.

Pop Quiz

So, let's say that you are the owner of a young, high-energy sporting breed dog, and you decide to try out an intro agility class for fun. Let's also say that you kind of view class as a glorified dog park with playground equipment, and regularly let your dog run amuk around the arena and on the equipment.

Let's say that also in your class is a high-energy, adolescent Border Collie pup with a whole lot of herding drive, whose parents are working hard to improve off leash control. The pup has a tendency a couple times a week to do a brief "victory lap" of the class after an exercise - a practice that the owners are very much trying to prevent and stop. The pup is getting better, though is still not 100% perfect. The owners acknowledge the issue, made everyone in the class aware of this tendency, confirmed that it wouldn't be a problem with anyone before taking this pup off leash, etc.

Let's say that with 15 minutes remaining in a class session where the pup has exercised much more impulse control and had much improved focus and recalls, the BC suddenly decides to make a break for it and do a lap of the class. The BC notices your dog, and they start play-bowing at each other. Do you:

A) Stand calmly holding your dog and wait for the owners who are hustling over to scoop up their dog?
B) Reach down and hold the pup's collar and hand him back to the apologetic owners? or
C) Say, "well, she's been wanting to play all night" and proceed to drop your dog's leash, so that the two dogs can engage in a wildly fun, protracted game of chase all around the training center, while the BC's owners wonder how the hell they are ever going to catch their young dog whose brain has now gone into full-blown, ecstatic herding mode and is oblivious to anything else in the world?

Three guesses how last night's class ended.

Yes, my fault for not having this training issue solved yet. But it was improving every week as he learned that the fun happens when you do the exercises with mom, and that going and looking for your own fun isn't very successful. Of course, now that he had about the best reinforcement he could have for running off, I fear we may be back a few more rungs on that training ladder. A bit frustrating and I was not a happy camper after that. I suppose I did stupid things as a first-time trainer also, but that was one of the damnedest decisions I've ever seen a classmate make, no matter how novice.

After a well-timed, lucky pounce enabled me to retrieve my Noodle, we went to the back of the room and did Crate Games for the remainder of class, in order to do some impulse control work. Tonight we are headed to the park with a long line and lots of freeze dried liver and his favorite tug toy (well, second favorite - his loofah dog toy was unrecognizable after last night's class and so had to go to the dog toy graveyard like so many before it).

He does try so hard to be right. We'll get there.

My Two Biggest Challenges (By Cadence):

1) Supressing my incredible herding-drive urge to run large circles around the agility class filled with moving dogs and people.

2) Being the only adolescent boy in a class filled with pretty girl-dogs.

It's hard out there for a Noodle, but I still managed to hold it together for 90-95% of the time last night. Mom has to admit that I sure try awfully hard to do the right thing despite my biology.

Things Learned in Foundation Agility Class Last Night

By The Noodle (aka Cadence)

1) Tunnels are awesome.
2) Schnauzers are awesome.
3) While the Buja Board is fun, and I get lots of cheese on it, it is maybe best not to pounce on it like I'm doing my best lion imitation.
4) I have rear feet and need to pick them up when walking through the ladder.
5) Sometimes tunnels are closed at the end but I can still get through.
6) Schnauzers would probably be really fun to herd.
7) Even though the table at class looks exactly like the table at home that I have gone on dozens of times, it is best to give it a full inspection before getting on it for the first time.
8) Mom starts swearing and almost falls if I try to run in front of her at top speed between two obstacles.
9) I can do two obstacles in a row without turning and herding Mom, causing the aforementioned swearing (unless she is really, really late).
10) I could stare at a schnauzer all day.
11) I will be much faster than Django and Mom is not going to get away with the sloppy handling crap she can get away with with him.
12) If I run over to say hi to the pretty Border Collie mix twice in a row while she is doing jumps, my Gentle Leader gets put back on and I have to sit calmly for a while and look at Mom.
13) Mom really better learn to handle.
14) Schnauzers are almost as fascinating as kitties.

Speedy Girl

Last night Django and Maebe started their new session of agility class. It is our usual Thursday night routine; however, this night I had to handle Maebe, since her usual wrangler (my husband) was out of town on business.

I have handled Maebe on occassion in classes and a handful of times during trials. I am well aware that she is fast. But, I'm a runner, and I've handled Tristan plenty of times before, who is consistently one of the faster dogs out there. I know it is a struggle to keep with her, but I didn't figure I would get so completely dusted on the course. That dog is just insane on the agility course.

We started out OK, then had a tunnel/chute combo, which basically just provided a straightaway for her to gain speed. Out of the chute were 12 weave poles - not bad, you can usually catch up to the dog in the weaves, so I was counting on that. But I swear, she hit those poles and freakin' ACCELERATED. Those led to a curved tunnel, so I quickly crossed behind her and ran like hell past the next two obstacles - two bar jumps - and headed toward the dog walk. She caught me in no time, clearing both jumps, hit the dog walk and was past it before I was anywhere close to the up-ramp. At which point, I just stopped, doubled-over laughing because - really - how do I possibly handle when the dog is almost the width of the building ahead of me? Keep in mind that Maebe screams continuously the entire time as she runs, so I can shout the commands at the top of my lungs, but odds are slim she'll hear them at that point.

The sad part of all this is now I can't really give Lowell all my armchair-coach handling advice like: "Don't try to race her," "Stay calm," "Don't get frantic and rush," etc. I think the only hope is to teach her to read and show her the course maps beforehand. I think all I can say to him now is "Yeah . . . Good luck with that."