Let's say there's this kid, a teenager we'll call JC. Now JC has a great cushy life; he doesn't have to work, parents pay for everything, fridge is always stocked, he's got an Xbox and tons of friends to hang out with.
Once a week, mom tells JC he's got to clean the pool. Really, it's the only thing he's asked to do and truthfully, it's not that monumental a task because the pool isn't even that large. JC doesn't mind cleaning the pool, after all he likes using it and he's been 'in charge' of the pool since he was younger. Plus, skimming leaves off the water is kind of fun.
Just recently though, mom says he's slacking on pool duties. Sure there's nothing floating in the water, but the filter is clogged and the chlorine is unbalanced. It seems like every time she wants to use the pool, the heater isn't set properly. She's nagging, blah blah blah, and he's responding with 'yeah yeah yeah' and nothing is getting done right because in the end, it just doesn't matter. Mom can screech all she wants and JC is still gonna get to play in the pool.
Ok this time, let's say that JC and his mom live a less luxurious lifestyle without the ipods and the internet or even a nice big bed for the entire family to cuddle in. There's still enough food to eat, and lots of affection but no couch to sit on or TV to watch all day. JC's bored and just waiting for something to do. The most important thing in his life is that pool.
Now mom tells him that she has a job for him. He'll have to clean the pool properly and only if he can do that(even cleaning out the nitty gritty stuff like the filter), he'll earn total user privileges.
Think he'll deliver to the best of his pool cleaning abilities? I'm counting on it because it's going to be a very long 48 hour experiment until we get to take another dip in that grimy pool.
For 17 awesome days, Canada united as a country and believed. We kind of had to, brainwashed by the media into listening to that song over and over again.
There were so many firsts for Canadians in this Olympics. First gold on home soil, first ice dance gold, first ski cross gold, first time we heard O Canada officially played 14 times and unofficially sang hundreds more.
And there was a first for me too. For the first time in my life I fully grasped the emotions that these athletes go through during the course of competition. Ok, hardly on the same scale of world grandeur, but somewhat comparable on a personal level.
Take what happened to Cheryl Bernard. During the very last moments of the gold medal game in Women's Curling, she missed a shot that every single Canadian knew she could have made in her sleep. A shot she has made a thousand times before.
"Pretty routine double," Bernard said. "Rubbed it, missed it by a millimeter. Couldn't ask for an easier shot."
While the rest of the country sat in disbelief at what they had just witnessed, I thought, 'I know how that feels'. Then I realized, wait a second, I do know how that feels. Lola and I, in the past, have run a flawless jumpers course only to have her dash right by the very last obstacle; the tire, hoop, that horrible burning ring of fire, which is how I saw it that day. Yup, we know what's like to be in second place when you wanted that gold so badly. But we also know what's it like to have friends and family rally around you and declare what a great run that was, point out your exceptional footwork, and say you'll get it next time.
I have to believe that Canadians will rally around Cheryl Bernard, declare what a great tournament that was, point out all those stones she amazingly curled, and say you'll get it next time.
Tonight I discovered how to melt my Border Collie's mind.
Lola and I are trialing this weekend and were working on equipment during practice tonight . For the past couple of weeks we've been working on handling skills, which is great for me, but usually right before a trial I like to work her on the dogwalk, the weaves, the table, and a few jumps just to see where she's at mentally and get in some last minute tweaks if I can. Our normal equipment routine consists of using treats and a tug toy, both of which make her very happy. Tonight in the smelly dirty unheated barn, her tug toy got especially gross with dirt and her enthusiasm for grabbing it as a prize waned with each supposed reinforcing toss. I needed to borrow a toy from Andrea. I hated to ask but the trial is only four days away and practicing with an undesirable tug toy would not do! I grabbed Phoenix's squeaky bowling pin* and proceeding to work the dogwalk with Lola.
*
I blew her mind with the very first squeak.
Her eyes bugged out of her head, her tail shot straight up as if propelled by an electric current and she bounced of the ground like it was covered with hot coals. MUST KILL SQUEAK! I sent her to the dog walk and she flew over it with little regard to her safety and her contacts. MUST KILL SQUEAK! What was this madness?
Let me explain my astonishment. Normally I have an easygoing albeit excited, happy to play dog. She's motivated to weave well enough by toys and has lovely 2 on 2 off contacts for the right treats. I react smugly when my agility friends speak of spastic Border Collies and think to myself that I must be a good trainer since my dog is problem free. Sure there are mistakes here and there, but her demeanor remains relatively calm throughout class and we can work through the kinks easily enough.
MUST KILL SQUEAK! With those 3 words, Lola officially joined the ranks of super spazz. She jumped on me, she leapt for the toy, she raced through a tunnel, she parachuted off of the dogwalk, and this was all while I was trying to get her to sit. That toy definitely breathed new life into our training session. MUST KILL SQUEAK! My sense of accomplishment when she did effectively perform what was asked of her was matched only by her sense of satisfaction at being rewarded with the chance to kill the squeak toy.
Practice was so much fun and so productive that I'm going out today to invest in one of these:
No, no they won't, is what I should have said. Unless by working it out you mean that your dog will continue being a bully and my dog will continue being scared. Because unless either one of us steps in, that is what will happen.
We're at the neighborhood park, not the dog park, but our dogs are loose and they all know each other and Lola is just at that threshold where she won't be able to tolerate any more dogs especially ones she doesn't know. Sure enough, a couple I've never met before show up with their two big black Lab crosses and let them off leash to play. One runs over to where all the boys are running (you've already guessed that's where JC is, right?) and plays nice, the other charges towards our group, hackles up and full of loud noises. Oh don't worry, we're told, she's just all noise.
Of course that just means to me that these people have no understanding of how animals communicate. either that, or they've chosen to believe that a dog with an obnoxious personality is perfectly acceptable in a social situation.
It isn't.
That dog zoomed in on Lola immediately and proceeded to torment her, invading her personal space, growling and posturering.
My dog is timid. She doesn't like that, I said. I was being polite because they are neighbors and I also kind of expected them to contain their dog. Oh, she won't do anything, I was told. Yeah, but my dog might snap at her, I said, a little more forcibly this time and actually readying myself to step in because Lola was very agitated.
And then the lady said it. They'll work it out.
She didn't say, oh I'm sorry, let me get my dog. She certainly didn't say, hey dog, stop that! I would have ok with either of those responses, more than ok, I would have been impressed.
They'll work it out.
Her husband called the dog off and kept a firm grip on it after that. I guess he has some understanding of how women communicate and he correctly picked up on all my signals.
Recently, I announced, mostly to myself, that I would be willing to work with other people's dogs and do some minor dog training and teach relatively easy tricks. In her usual critical manner (it's OK it's good for me) Andrea asked what method of training I was planning to follow. Because I had no set plan of action, that question led me to examine my own dogs and the systems I've put into place for them (See? It's good for me, really).
No matter what we are doing, I want to set up my dogs for success. I actually enjoy the learning process and I'm not impatient when it comes to getting them from point A to B. Most of all, I want us to have fun.
There are so many dog training methods out there that to actually make a conscience effort to choose the absolute best one could drive you crazy. I believe that people with a natural understanding of dog behaviors and a strong visual concept of what they want to accomplish will gravitate towards the process that best suits their purpose. At least, that's how it's been with me.
When it comes to agility, there is only one way I want to play with Lola. Nice clean straight lines, defined body language, and a strong connection with your dog are what I like best about Greg Derrett's system.
When Greg walks a course he never has to wonder how he is going to handle it. This is because he has developed a system of handling which is logical and clear to the dog. His consistent signals never cause the dogs to question what he is asking them to do.
I admit that I haven't tried other systems but I know what feels right to me and how I want Lola to run a course and I'm fortunate enough to have Greg chart out our structured training path.
Here's an example of such a path. (note: this is not a video of Lola. I know it's hard to believe, but trust me, it's not)
When it came to herding, I dove into it head first, not even thinking that there could be more than one way to train a dog. But, as is my nature, I did my research and absorbed as much stockdog knowledge as I could. As I began to understand what I was doing, and JC advanced, it became clear that the techniques we were using to improve were actually part of a training system.
Derek Scrimgeour's system to be exact.
His training method can best be described as:
" all about proper communicating with the dog, he says, not confusing gestures and 'barking' at them. 'These dogs are looking for logic all the time,' he says. 'They will keep guessing and guessing because they love the work so much. But the way we train them here, we give them the logic. I don't want to put the dog in a position where it has ever got to guess what I want. Sheepdogs are, he says, highly sensitive animals who can be brought to the brink of a nervous breakdown by poor training and bad treatment. 'I used to love fast, pushy dogs,' he says. 'Now I appreciate other things - like bravery, intelligence and control. In dogs, as in people, it's often the deeper, quieter, less immediately obvious qualities that matter most. His training is also about ironing out bad habits - which, in the process, can reveal as much about the dogs' owners as it will about the dogs themselves."
It's funny but my preferred method for training agility is much like any of the games that I enjoy the most. Sports with black and white rules and definite structure. Anarchy is not fun.
As for how I've actually lived my life, well much like the herding training JC receives, I've always been fairly easy going, very forgiving of my own mistakes, and accept that every experience is part of the learning process. This is probably, why to me, it is easy to accept that agility is the greatest sport ever, and that herding is a way of life.
So back to the original question of what training methods would I use if I was just teaching basic good behavior to other people's dogs. I'm still not too sure, but I know that I reward mediocrity and that my own dogs are smart enough to have shaped my behavior through precise operant conditioning. Put it all together and I believe I must have the breakthrough training system right at my fingertips!
This week we have been working a lot on patience patience patience!
Eventually I'd like for each dog to hold a nice stay until verbally released regardless of the distraction. At this point both dogs will stay while others are playing or if I purposely try to distract them, but split them up and it's anarchy.
JC is actually starting to show more willpower than Lola which I give credit to his herding training. I mean, if he can lie down on command while working livestock he can just about do anything. Lola is another story, mostly because she's spoiled. Her tolerance level while watching me play with JC is really low and my goal is to build it up much much higher.
It's true, I went over to the dark side a little over a month ago and I can honestly say that the dogs have never looked or felt better than they do at this time. Lola's fur is soft like silk and JC will sit at my feet looking up at me with the eyes of his ancestors when they were just beginning to trust that man and fire might be a good thing. In a strange primitive way, I believe it has bonded the dogs to me like a bowl full of kibble never could. Of course, feeding and preparing raw meals has been an experience all on it's own. I have become the weird lady who buys pigtails for a buck and day old stewing beef at half price. I scour the supermarket meat fridges looking for turkey necks and chicken gizzards. With my cleavers, and cutting boards, my plastic gloves, and even a hammer; I laugh and compare myself to the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show.
Here chicki chicki chicki means SUPERTIME!
2. Changed our herding instructor
Sometime in August (August 11th), the herding world as we knew it completely imploded into itself. That day, the class started with our instructor putting JC on geese for the first time and he just stood there looking at me and wouldn't, or couldn't move them. I explained to her that he didn't even chase the ferrets at home so I wasn't surprised that the had no interest in the geese. She gave me the firm lip/head nod she uses when she feels I'm making excuses for my little dog. We gave up on the geese and moved into the big field where she informed me that JC was going to help us separate the lambs from the ewes. There were a hundred sheep in this field and Frodo the maremma livestock guard dog. I was completely confused and beginning to be very miserable. I sent JC to fetch the sheep and he did. Then Frodo chased him away. I called JC back to the sheep again, and Frodo chased him away...again. When I complained I got the firm lip/head nod. I can't go into any more details only because I don't want to relive them. Needless to say that afternoon became an intense pressure cooker and when JC pooped in the field, I finally called it off.
I was angry at the mental torture we'd just imposed on my dog and frustrated with out instructor who had so readily set him up to fail. During our heated talk after class, she used his failure to criticize his herding ability and to denounce his character. I cried, I wiped snot on my sleeve, I was done. That was to be our last class with her.
All was lost and then we found Grant. He trains with all breeds and he works with the big picture. There's no nitpicking of details with him. If the dog makes a mistake, then meh, he made a mistake. Suddenly all pressure was off and for the first few classes with our new instructor, JC spent most of his time running around like a spazz.
The fun was back in herding! In a sense, we let JC work through his own issues without micromanaging him and that was the best thing we could have ever done. Over the past 2 months, I've seen his confidence grow and his decision making improve greatly. Just last week he worked the sheep with both Grant's horse and maremma in the field.
It might take us a long time to get to a trial, but we are definitely enjoying the journey.
And finally, the third best thing I ever did?
3. Hitched my agility wagon to Andrea's horse.
In the spirit of Susan Garrett, and her spirit is with us often, I'm grateful for the agility training that Lola gets every week and for the people we get to train with.
Now that my first summer of trialing is over and Lola and I are taking a bit of a break, I can look back at all the dog/handler teams that we've come across and say with certainty that I'm very glad to be in the middle of the pack, so to speak. Maybe Lola and I will never go to the Worlds but at least we'll never be painful to watch. I just want us to be the best we can be and I believe that by continuing to train with Andrea (even in the smelly barn!) that we will be.
.. over the Purple Hill, that's where our summer is.
Our days were long and full and fun. Lola and I continue to grow and develop as a team and our runs improve with every trial. JC only wants to please me with an intensity that some might think unhealthy, but a Border Collie owner regards as typical.
The Sheepdog Trials in Kingston were a highlight of the summer for us. If I stare for a long time and squint my eyes real hard, I can swear that's JC coming around the bend with those sheep. In this dream, I don't even need the whistle that I have but haven't figured out how to use yet.
Lola waited out the rain on trial days to reward me with ribbons and qualifying scores in Jumpers, Standard, and Snooker runs.
I can't remember if she had stopped contacts or running contacts in her winning runs, but because I reward mediocrity, I'm satisfied with whatever I could get. We won't be able to feign ignorance for much longer though as Lola turns two this week and with her last legal measurement the serious business of big girl agility (maybe even Regionals!) will have to be established.
Our Holy Grail continues to be that second Jumpers Q, but like any good adventurer knows, getting there is half the fun. At least that's what Lola keeps telling me.
The best days of our summer were spent playing at Kathryn's farm, famous as Ontario's premier non sporting home. A Simpsons sky and the smell of manure will forever be linked to Spot On in my mind. As will chocolates, pizza, and good friends.
The days now are too short to be packed with the multitude of activities that became customary for us. The evenings, too cold.
Like children going back to school, we head back to the barn within the next couple of weeks. Our winter clothes and indoor training tools will have to be found and dusted off. We'll revert back to one walk per day with a lot of household tricks and training being worked on. Maybe there will be more time to update this blog, hopefully there will be enough happening to blog about.
How do you know when your baby is all grown up? Bring home a new baby, that's how.
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that my puppy was not a puppy anymore. Lola is an old soul, but to me, JC has always been the baby and has such, been treated like one. This week with the help of a visiting friend, a real puppy, I observed that my little one was little no more.
Pete is staying with us for 10 days and in true puppy form has been a bouncing obnoxious ball of energy and excitement. If I thought that when put together both puppies would play and play then I wrong wrong wrong.
JohnnyCash displayed his total annoyance by getting up and moving away every time that Petey bounded up to him but mostly he just emitted this crazy low growl from the center of his chest that I had never heard before. I guess Pete knew what it meant though, because he showed respect for my dog.
I suppose it's time that I do the same. Not making excuses for his imperfections because he's a baby, not forgiving his bad behavior because he's so cute. Stronger corrections! A tighter leash! I can do all of that. A dog is a dog is a dog will be my new motto!
Lola and I have been cursed when running our Starters Jumpers courses from the very first trial. It's true, I swear I'm not being superstitious. There are pictures, videos, and a lot of painful memories that prove what we've been through.
There was that awful hoop shaped like a boat boey that Lola wanted no part of jumping through. There was one course that had such a horrible tunnel entry, I thought for sure that Lola would forsake her love of the tunnel forever. There have been jumps missed, off courses, rainy days, sunny days, bars at 16", bars at 22", distractions from spectators, distractions from ring crew, confused handling, panicked handling and just plain bad handling.
Lola and I were doomed to remain in Starters Jumpers for the rest of the summer.
Then this past weekend, we broke the curse. The very last run of the weekend, when everyone had packed up and was ready to leave, we ran a flawless 23 second course.
I didn't ask anyone to film it (luckily someone did), I didn't expect anyone to be paying much attention, since everyone was busy packing up, and I was mentally drained from from such an exhausting weekend.
We didn't have any family members there to cheer us on and I probably had a full bladder from avoiding the 2 day old port a potties. I was tired and hungry and thinking about what to have for dinner.
Best of all, I had left all my bad feelings in the roots of a strong old tree with the false promise of going to back to collect them after the race. Like George Costanza I did the opposite of everything I normally do without putting pressure on my self to succeed.
