Chico and I have been busy, really we have, but for some reason, right now writing kinda makes me feel like this:
That’s an anxious Chico, on the steps of Luther Burbank’s home. He was correctly anxious, because while we walked in the back gate, there is a LARGE sign by the front gate saying “no dogs.” Which, of course, I didn’t see until we left. No wonder that lady with the bicycle was giving me the stink eye.
At last weekend’s trial there was no one videoing runs so I have to count on my memory. And it seems my memory is somewhat flawed. In truth, I often feel like a deer in the headlights during a competition run. It just zips past and I’m unable (yet, damn it, yet) to step back and watch myself. Or. Sometimes, even keep an eye on Chico as I run.
On Saturday, we tried Excellent Standard for the first time. It went pretty well, for at least part of each run. On the way home, I was trying to remember if we achieved the weave poles goal during any of our three runs. As I reviewed the runs, in my head, I heard someone go “Yay” as Chico left the poles during Standard and headed for the wing jump. I knew that we had repeated the poles, and when that “Yay” came back to me, I decided that we must have had success on the second try. The yay came from the gate area, and the woman who was gating had been at the previous weekend’s trial and walked a course or two with me, freely discussing what she was going to do and what else one could do. Doubtless the ‘weave poles at trials’ problem had come up during the walk(s), she was kind enough to remember, and her one-woman cheering section was just the most helpful thing I could have had.
And what they say is true: we can be our own harshest critics. On Sunday, I was chatting with a woman and her a nice Springer Spaniel (Lacy, who was social enough to figure out how to share treats with Chico without getting him riled up), and the woman said, “That was a nice Time 2 Beat run this morning.” My reply was “Wow, thanks, because all I can remember was the moment when I was standing by the A-frame, looking for my dog.” “Oh,” she replied, “you got it back together and it was really nice.” Wow. Thanks very much to the universe for sending me that objective opinion.
It’s a digression, but here’s a goose-bumps-on-your-arms, bring-tears-to-your-eyes story. The woman I spoke to was running the Springer because of a promise she made to Lacy’s original owner as that person lay dying of cancer. “I will get your dog her PACH.” And they are doing so well that this early in the year, they are a mere thirty points from qualifying for nationals.
Our San Francisco teacher, Sandy Rogers, was also competing last weekend, and she was quite encouraging about our runs too. She said watching us gave her some ideas of things that I could work on to fine tune some aspects of our performance. Sounds good to me.
My friend Sandra and her family live in Marin County, north of San Francisco. The family includes a rescue dog, presumed to be mostly Tibetan Terrier, named Pepper. He and Chico, on the whole, get along well. In fact, you could say they are friends.
Chico and Pepper.
We stayed at Sandra’s for a very short time, and packed in a lot of action. The first afternoon, we took the dogs to a local playing field where many dogs go off-leash and both had a very good time. The humans ate Thai food for lunch (yum), Dungeness crab for dinner (yum again), and did some catching up.
The next day, we took a trip to the East Bay, to Point Isabel Regional Shoreline park where dogs can run free on twenty-three acres of shoreline (old landfill?).
It’s big,
it was a beautiful day.
The dogs started by checkin’ it out:
Pretty soon they sort of pulled together.
And started to cruise through the park like happy little siblings.
Bay Area views abounded.
Chico has his eye on that Golden Retriever, not on the view.
The views were too good, the day too nice, not to share all the touristic pictures. The Bay Bridge is on the left, the Golden Gate Bridge on the right, the city of San Francisco in the middle.
We lost track of Pepper a couple times, and each time he was in the water. Doing this:
Eventually, Chico joined him.
We met a very nice Lab cross named Wilma. She was clearly getting her outing during her person’s lunch hour (I base this on the suit coat over the gentleman’s shoulder and his sparkling-white, immaculately pressed shirt). Wilma came and sat with us by the shore (after her swim) and played treats by turn with Chico and Pepper. It was very sweet – she was obviously interested in the cookies, but looked over her shoulder at her person to get permission before accepting one.
It was a great walk, followed by lunch on a patio (dogs welcome), a second visit to Point Isabelle (so nice, we did it twice), and a spectacular sunset in Point Richmond on the way home.
The next morning, I was doing some tricks training with Chico and it was quite clear that Pepper wanted to play too. So we went out on the deck and played treats by turn.
This is the beginning. There’s Pepper’s front end; the dogs are pretty far apart, and I am quite close to both of them.
In their desire to get closer to me and the cookies, the dogs inched closer together.
Chico just heard something next door.
I took a step away.
The dogs managed themselves with classic avoidance postures.
I took another step back.
Could they do a better job of not looking at each other? I think not. Chico was starting to pant (showing stress) so I quick stepped in and gave each of them lots of treats and praise and ended the session.
Pepper doesn’t have much patience, so he was practicing waiting his turn; Chico was practicing being close to me and food and another dog all at one time. I’d rate their performance a success, and it was fun to try training two dogs at once.
Chico is monopolizing the good stuff. Chico waited until Buddy finished burying the bone I gave Buddy, THEN Chico started on his own bone, but only after locking down his treasured flamingo, Lewis.
Chico’s first place in Open Standard not only got him advanced to the next level in that game, it allowed me to pick him a toy. I selected a Tony Bahama (fancy!) pink flamingo. And he thought it pretty terrific. I swear that he knows when a toy came as a prize and is extra proud of it.
He carried it around until we went to the car.
Thanks to the nice lady who took these pictures for me.
Now that we’re at the Excellent level, we’ll be competing in classes with more dogs, some of which go regularly to nationals or even represent the US in international trials, on harder courses. We’re not the fastest team in the sport. Early in my trialing days, someone said that when most of us get to Excellent level, “we can say bye-bye to the blue ribbons.” I don’t care about the ribbons, it’s just way-fun to win something that makes Chico so happy.
Last weekend Chico and I went and played ‘gilities an AKC trial held by the Mount Diablo Dog Training Club and organized by Abba Dogs Trial Services. In an effort to keep from getting burned out or stressed, I entered classes on Friday and Sunday, with a day off in the middle. At the urging of Sandy Rogers I entered this trial (and one next weekend) at the excellent level in Jumpers. (I’ve written before about being spooked by the courses at that top level.) I tried it a year ago when we were first eligible and didn’t like it – too many handlers in the walk through, courses too challenging to even remember – I was just freaked out. And since we had no Qs at that level, we could go back down to Open, and I did. And got no Qs at that level either. Anyhow, Sandy urged me to just go for it, and I did.
My goals for me were divide the Excellent courses into sections, make a plan for each section, and then execute my plan while keeping an eye on Chico. (It seems that I tend to concentrate so hard on not tripping on a jump standard and remembering which way to turn that I forget to stay checked-in with my partner.) My goals for Chico were that he hit his contacts and do the weave poles. After the first runs (below), I added the goal of holding his start line.
One of those enterprising competitors that brings pro gear to tape the runs (Agility in Motion) was in attendance, and I splurged and bought the videos of our runs. For those of you with five extra minutes, they are below.
First day, first run, Time 2 Beat. No start line, missed the first obstacle. When I review the video, it’s not hard to see why. After I handed the leash to the leash runner, did I look at my dog? No. I watched her walk away. And where did Chico go? Right after her. Right where I was looking. There are a few moments when we pulled it together, but I mis-directed him plenty of times.
First day, second run, Excellent Jumpers. My goal was nail the opening (obstacles one through four), and we got it. The third time we tried the weaves, we almost got ’em, but Chico popped out after number ten. Then we did pretty well for a while, but at about forty seconds, I try a blind cross, but I’m not looking at Chico and I lose him. It takes a second or two before I figure this out, so at forty-four seconds you can see me stop and look around desperately for my dog. In that second of searching my eyes met the judge’s eyes, and the look he gave me was so sympathetic, so understanding…it said “Yup, you lost your dog. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.” Or as we say back home, at Agility Charm School, “Hey, that doesn’t make you special.”
And after our day off, on to Sunday’s runs.
First run, second day, Time 2 Beat. Weave poles, not so great; Chico missed a jump near the end of the course and I wasn’t looking at him, so didn’t realize it until I watched the video. His contacts on the A-frame were very good both times, that’s a goal achieved. And there were some moments of brilliance. There’s a rear cross in the middle of the course that works just like it is supposed to. I love that.
Second run, second day, Excellent Jumpers. We got the opening, we got the closing, the middle – not so much.
Last run, second day, Open Standard. The big achievement of our weekend. Steering, weave poles, contacts – all in one run. The entry to the weaves was really hard, everyone said so, so missing it, no big deal, and at this level, you get some ‘do overs’ and we nailed it on the second try. And watch Chico dive into the poles on that second try. What a great dog. I wanted a front cross after the chute, but wasn’t moving fast enough, hence the rear cross on the see-saw. That rear sort of threw Chico off, but I kept driving and he kept going. A little wide on the last turn, I didn’t set the new line quite soon enough; all that nit-picking at myself aside, it was a qualifying run that earned us our Open Standard title. Classmates back home, note that we owe you another cake.
This is a long entry, thanks for sticking with it to the end. Next weekend we’re off to Santa Rosa for another AKC trial, competing at excellent level in both Standard and Jumpers. The coming trial is sponsored by the local chapter of the American Bloodhound Club and organized by Lynda Tjarks Agility.
Chico and I have done some fun agility things since we got to California.
We’ve had two good private lessons with Sandy Rogers at ACE Dog Sports, doing some work on Chico’s contacts, and on getting me to move from my hips more and to watch both where I’m going AND where my DOG is going because he’s going to follow my glance. We’ve taken a fun and informative “tricks for agility” class there too.
We spent the better part of a Saturday at a fun match held at Heart Dog Agility in Ben Lomond.
Heart Dog is at a private home, with space for two outdoor rings. That’s the Standard course.
The weather was cool, overcast, and dry. The crowd was friendly.
I randomly handed my camera to a kind looking woman (she’s the one in the purple sweatshirt with the red dog in the first picture), asking her to take some pictures for my blog, “so my friends back home in New Hampshire can see what we’re up to.” When she asked where in NH we were from, I replied, as usual, “A little town called Tamworth.” My new friend lit up. “Oh,” I said, “do you know Tamworth?” “Yes, my husband and I spend two weeks every summer on Squam Lake.” Oh for goodness sake. Where does Kevin Bacon figure into this?
Here’s her pictures, taken with my point and shoot, shoved into her hands:
“Hey, Chico! Over here. Look at me. Do you want to play? Or are you too nervous?”
Chico and I spent a long time that day establishing a good connection.
We had it here for a second.
And here, blurrily, he’s turning in the direction I’m asking for.
There’s a dog on the other side of that log, and Chico is deciding how he feels about the situation. If my studies of dog body language have worked, Chico is interested, reserved, on the whole secure. He’s wagging his tail very softly and slowly, his ears and the corners of his mouth are relaxed, he’s leaning ever so slightly back, away from the other dog. (Anybody who knows more and sees something else, please speak up in the comments.)
There goes that dog Chico was looking at above. What I see is an almost wistful expression on my dog’s face.
We could have had eight runs that day, but our fifth one was, after a disconnected start, pretty good, with Chico connected to me, and able to do the weave poles in this new place, so I called it quits for the day. End on a high note.
Then I went home and signed us up for trials three weekends in a row. That starts tomorrow, February 28, with a trial organized by Abba Dogs for the Mount Diablo Dog Training Club. Then another AKC trial the weekend of the eighth and ninth of March and a USDAA trial on the fifteenth and sixteenth.
But we’ve had a lot of other doggie fun, and I owe you a post on that too, so please stay tuned to this station.
The truth, dear readers, is that my blog is about a month behind my real life. After the week in Camptonville, Chico and I came to Santa Cruz and it has taken me almost a month to get settled in a comfortable spot. In the intervening weeks, I have learned that while camping is fun, I do not choose to live in a travel trailer. Chico and I have visited family and friends; we took a really fun private lesson from agility coach Sandy Rogers of ACE Dog Sports in San Francisco, and a tricks for agility class there too. We played agility at Heart Dog Agility in Ben Lomond at a fun match. And we have searched and searched, with mixed success, for places where Chico can run off leash.
Please stay tuned for longer posts, with pictures, coming soon to a screen near you.
WordPress helpfully tells me that this is my 250th post. I guess I did have something to say.
Can I Bring the Dog? 