eyeherdewe

Scout - Portait of Angst

 

Scout contemplates existential angst and the absurdity of Pat's rolling in poop

 

When I worked setout last weekend with P*trick, I got on the subject of Scout.  I was telling him of the few times recently she escaped my car in the midst of my working another dog, and began to chase the living shit out of sheep until she decided on her own to lie down somewhere as if this place she chose and this time she chose it were logical and preordained.  Only an idiot would think all that screaming and flailing were necessary or effective.  Why wouldn't she bark at such a distracting display of buffoonery? Or maybe she thought we were both doing the same thing; chasing the living shit out of moving obstacles and making noise. 

P*trick commented that it must be rough to have so much drive and desire without, basically, the ability to channel it successfully.

It seemed obvious, but I'd never thought of that before; from her perspective.  It made me sad for her.  I love this crazy little dog. I would do anything to give her more happiness.  I've tried to work her and we both revert to this primal little display of comedic quality savagery. Every time.  I don't think I've ever had a moment of connection with her on sheep. 

Sharp tones bring barking; the cracking of a whip incites fury and biting; anything less is ignored.

I cannot get into her head. I don't know what motivates her and I don't know what manifests as a correction in her odd little brain.  I've tried everything short of clicking and treating, shooting and shoveling.

Then today I thought, shit! Maybe P*trick was talking about ME.

Rolling in the Deep

Last night as I bathed the human feces off of Pat's big beautiful rough, I thought about our weekend; about the trial, about our runs....

Not really...I thought about reason number 2 why I do NOT love the Boise foothills trails.  Humans and their shit.  Patagonia needs to market a people poop bag and make it seems hipster enough so that everyone wants to shit in a bag and not a bush.  Really.  Polypro Poop Pockets. 

People complain about dogs crapping on the trails, owners not picking up after their pets... and yet....I cannot count the number of times I've seen the all-natural-dyed-yak-wool-from-India-hat-woven-by-certified-all-natural-fiber-buddhists top of some hunched over cyclist or runner grunting out his Cliff bar and skinny latte, with no foam, room for cream, into a sage brush not 20 feet off the trail.  Pick that shit up, Johnny Free Tibet Fitness!

Pat says, "Thank You!"

I say, "Fuck Tibet!"

(Not really. I love the Dali Lama.  He would never crap so close to a trail and if he did...it would be holy crap.)

Anyway.  End of Rant.

The trial:

Jai and Pat were both consistent.  Pat scored a 64 on both runs.  I had not worked Pat in a very long time and it showed. I tried to run him like I run Jai; keeping things moving and no stopping unless absolutely necessary.  It cost us.  Pat cannot flank on the fly, as DD reminded me.  Pat is also slowing down and can't hear or see as well.  Still, I used him for setout and he saved my ass a number of times.  I cannot look at Pat and not want to kiss his big goofy head. (Recent brief exception noted above)

Jai was really good. Mistakes were almost entirely mine.  We missed the fetch panels, but made most everything else.  I flanked her too soon on the first drive panels because I ALWAYS DO and so...we missed that one, but it felt really good and she just keeps getting better and more confident.  We came in second on our second run. 

I am considering bumping up to open for the next trial, mostly because it will give us more options.

Also, what Pat is drawn to literally, I am drawn to metaphorically.

Adopting Greatness, One Piece at a Time (or Two)

I'm having some YouTube dude teach me to whistle with my fingers because that is ALL that stands between me and greatness ....and possibly worms.  (If I'm going to be sticking my fingers into my mouth all the time, my body is going to have to buck up and embrace the influx of foreigners. It's going to be like 20th century Ellis Island in there.) 

Derek came over the other night and we drank wine and talked about dogs and training dogs and trainers and breeding and at some point he talked about whistling with your fingers as being a truer, crisper sound with more range and clarity,

"It's like the difference between Mariah Carey and Britney Spears..." he said.  I SHIT you NOT...that is the analogy he used.  Fortunately when he noticed my eyes spinning hopelessly in their sockets, he added,

"Or...the difference between an opera singer and a pop star who needs synthesizing."

Derek said that some famous open handler from the Father Land told him when he started out that the first thing he needed to do was learn to whistle with his fingers,

"You will get better sound, you will have more commands and more finesse."

I asked if this handler's wife also used her fingers, because I was picturing not her own, anyway...maybe orphan fingers hung from a pretty beaded lanyard around her neck... I was wondering if it was hard being adopted if you didn't have your pinkie fingers, but assumed it wasn't as bad as no legs or flipper arms...and it's probably also not as bad being a finger donor as working in the Nike fields.

"I think she does...use her own fingers, Katy."

"Does she wear Nikes?"

Anyway...so today at work I'm hunkered down in my cubicle trying to whistle.  It isn't going well.  I can't whistle WITHOUT fingers, using just my lips.  It mostly just makes me tunelessly light headed in the midst of my own spittle storm.  Add fingers and it just seems like I should also dance and fart bass from an ass horn. But I won't because I'm at work. I do not need that much range.

I need to have this mastered by my next trial.  I need that finesse, those extra commands.  It is all that stands in the way between me and greatness.  Besides a down on Pat and my timing, Jai's boycotting of certain flanks.... me in general.  Worms.

Fedex on a couple of little fingers.

Goring Ranch SS SDT: As the Days Got Shorter...So Did Our Runs...

Due to an unseasonable amount of precipitation the venue, though beautiful, was in three or twelve or 45 feet of grass and ticks.  Doesn't matter how far the outrun was; could have been 200 ..300...yards or 100 miles...It was a long distance through tall grass and over a small hill.  Out of 40-something open runs the first day, there were only 17 scores.  Things did not improve much the next day, though they adjusted the field slightly.  For pro-nov they moved setout slightly uphill, which helped for visibility, but it was still difficult through the tall, thick grass for the dogs, the sheep, and the handlers. 

Before our turn, watching a few runs leading up to ours, Jai spotted the sheep.  When we stood at the post, Jai stared in the correct direction as setout moved the sheep to the field.  I sent her, she did a nice outrun, decent lift; the fetch was a struggle as the sheep had a strong draw and it was hard for Jai to turn them ...until she gripped; then the sheep turned and we were able to do some sketchy driving and timed out just getting to the pen. 

I was really happy with her. It was hard work in that grass. She was great.

Pat can't see at a distance.  I'd get him glasses, but they'd have to be bifoculs so he could see upclose to lick his balls, his other favorite past time.  With his chronic panting and licking, they'd always be fogged up; he'd look silly.  Pat has pride - ...and, happily, experience.  Though he started way wide and threatened to continue past the sheep to setout, he took my redirect and brought me sheep but it was really hard work for him.  Once he got the sheep to me and (sort of) around the post, he was driving beautifully, but we timed out.  It was really getting hot, the outrun was laborious and Pat has a sore shoulder so I pulled him from his second run.

Prior to Jai's second run, as we stood around waiting, she fixated on a horse in the field adjacent to the trial course.  Then entire time we waited for our run, waited for our sheep, Jai stared at this tan horse grazing piecefully against a fence in the wrong direction. 

I mean, sure, aesthetically, it was a pastoral scene...but I'm thinking, "I'll bet this isn't about beauty and this is going to bite me in the ass."

Occasionally, during the runs leading up to ours, Jai would break her intense horse concentration long enough to note the relatively close presence of SHEEP, but as soon as they disappeared up the field or into the exhaust, she was back gazing horseward.  No sustained interest in the part of the field we were standing in that actually contained sheep.  The source, if you will,  of our future sheep.

I'm not going to lift my dog up into the air and force her to look in another direction because,

A) That looks really silly and since I've NEVER lifted her before, unless we're cuddling at home on a chair or couch, I KNOW she will think this behavior on my part is really really really wrong at the post, and she is likely to nibble-lick the shit out of my face in nervousness, causing me to scream and drop her....

B) See A.

So I kept alternating between thinking,

"This is going to bite me in the ass." and,

"No, she'll remember....she just found sheep not two hours before. Once I send her, she'll forget about horses and go get the sheep. Just like I'll stop thinking about the beer in my cooler.  We've never ridden a horse together...we don't even watch westerns. I'm so happy I brought lime for the Corona!"

I pointed her 90 degrees away from the horse and I sent her comebye ...and she went down field veering across course and straight for the fucking horse.  I recalled and tried to lay her down to redirect, but she came ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE POST....where I attempted to send her again...to the ... frankly disinterested horse.  We did this a few times and then I walked off.   I should have let her bring me the goddamned horse so we could have RIDDEN OFF.   The post was about a quarter mile from the handler's tent through 120 feet of grass and ticks and we were both hot and tired. 

Regardless, I was happy with both my dogs.  They both gave it their all and I made the mistakes, as usual.  It probably would have been nice to ride that horse.

El Presidente

Our goal for this weekend was to get out of the Novice class, without having DD or P*trick invent a new class just for me.  One that excluded real livestock, and included a 'scooper' and maybe a monkey jockey.  Organ music.

Accomplished. Jai and I won the novice class on Saturday.  I don't remember our score.  She took her 'steady' and made everything possible. 

Others in our class did very well - ANN AND JANE!! (I MIS-REPORTED ORIGINALLY!! SORRY!) were a really close second on Saturday and Jody R and Reggie won the Novice class on Sunday with an even better score.  Kelsey and Ewan did a fantastic job - it was their first trial and despite never actually practicing a pen....they got around the course and penned.   Colleen and her kelpie 'Desi' were great... I don't remember anyone's score, again, because my head is full of other useful things like Where I Put My Driver's License and Why Beets Make You Pee Red.  This is important because that's how I came to learn that I'M NOT DYING, I JUST LIKE RED ROOT VEGETABLES PERHAPS TOO MUCH and that I AM AN ORGAN DONOR.  (I am a compulsive box checker.

'Check this box if you want your spleen to go to The Spleen Needy after you die'. 

'Check this box if they can have it NOW! YOU get a free set of knives and an I Donated My Spleen at the DMV mug'...)

(I digress....see why I don't remember scores?)

Sunday we moved up to Pro-Novice and we did neither as well as I'd hoped (DELUSIONS! '

Check this box if you want to donate your soft focus fantasy Cortex to a needy pessiment!'

'Check this box to throw in that pair of pants that REALLY DOES make YOUR ASS LOOK BIG!'

'BIG LIKE A TWO-CAR GARAGE- THOSE POCKETS SHOULD OPEN BY REMOTE to reveal twin dimpled white mini-vans with TACKY BUMPER STICKERS!')

...nor as tragically as I'd feared (Sheep flung asunder, children crying, women fainting....me standing there. Just standing...a spectator; as if I had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. Jai inexplicably suddenly wearing a WWII German SS uniform...Cringe.

(CHECK THIS BOX IF YOU MIGHT DO BETTER HANDLING PIGEONS OR EVEN FERRETS!! ARTISAN CHICKENS!! SOMETHING THAT IS AT LEAST CONTAINED!!! A CREATURE WHOSE SKILLS ARE LIMITED TO WEARING LITTLE OUTFITS OR NOSING AN IRONIC TOY AROUND FOR CRUNCHY TREATS!! PUSHING SOMETHING DECORATIVE FROM IT'S ASS OCCASIONALLY!  EXPECTATIONS: HOMING INSTINCT! CORN! SHITTING ON SIDEWALKS! CHECK IT!! FOR THE LOVE OF ANIMAL HUSBANDRY GOD, CHECK IT NOW!)

In other Presidente News:

Susan and Vangie had beautiful runs both days. They took second place in Open yesterday. Yay!

Slow and Slower

This weekend I worked Jai on Steady.  Moving slow-slower-slowest down the field and across with sheep not running, but sort of sauntering... to and fro.  We made obstacles! When we didn't, it was so much more relaxed for everyone. 

We started out on Saturday working on me being an absolute Harpy and a nag, with two commands and host of whistles that all meant, basically, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!"

I think our BIG break-through came because Kelsey video'd us and I played it back Saturday night.  WHO was this screeching harbanger of disappointment? 

"JAI!"

"JAI!?"

"JAI!?! J! AI!...?"

"NO!"

"NO!"

"NO?!"

There I stood, late on my commands/whistles, letting Jai go at her hurried little pace, TRYING TRYING TRYING...me attempting to work the dog, the sheep, the course like a 70's pin ball machine.... JAI TRYING TRYING TRYING and then back to me full of admonishment and surprise when she couldn't flank our way to Panel Greatness.

"You have to slow your dog down."

"You have to stop your dog."

"I like to pay attention to the comfort of the livestock..."

I wonder how many ways P*trick and DD have told me to SLOW MY FUCKING DOG DOWN IF I WANT TO ACTUALLY RUN THE COURSE and not just THE SHEEP?  I wonder what their conversations are like,

DD: "Well, I told her she needs to back her dog off the stock! To lie her down...to take her time and go slowly...I even SPEAK SLOWLY TO HER when I'm telling her these things so maybe that will help...."

P*trick: "Maybe words mean something else in her culture...like 'I'm Hungry!' or 'Nice Pants!'...was she humming? I don't think language cues are working...Try showing her with puppets!'

DD: "Really?"

P*trick: "I don't know what else to do.  I think we might have to stop giving her real sheep to work on...something out there should be enjoying itself.  Maybe toys for the dog! Or..scatter treats in a TRIAL COURSE-LIKE PATTERN..."

DD: "Could we just use straw bales? Covered with old blankets? Interspersed with some of those YOGA BALLS, so there is SOME movement!! She probably won't notice. I think her dog could be trained to push one of those around a course...while it leaks treats every so often...we'll call it the NoMo' class. New!...give her a sandwich to eat at the post and a ribbon for after...."

But no.  Not so fast! DO NOT UNBLANKET YOUR WINDOWS on MY ACCOUNT, MS. DEAL: We, Jai and I, have worked for MOMENTS at a TIME now, more than one day in a ROW, almost...on steady.  We are planning on EMPLOYING this next weekend for the El Presidente Trial.  We don't want to be in NOVICE class for another trial.  We don't want to be in No Mo' Class, either....although I am NOT opposed to a sandwich at the post.

Novice Handler

This last weekend was Jai and my first trial together.  The venue was the Helsley Ranch, the trial The Big Freeze.  I believe it was Jai's first ever.  We ran novice.   

Last year I ran Pat in Pro-Novice because his open dog status put us there.  I never really learned to run Pat successfully through a PN course at a trial, but he taught me alot. He is where I really started seeing, experiencing, and beginning to understand the basics of what makes for a good dog and handler team, and how different these good dogs can be; I learned from him timing, and patience, and the power of subtlety ... and that when a male dog looks too long at you, ardently, adoringly....leaning against your leg...you should move. Fast. Stop standing still and for the love of Grainfree God...do not give him one final head pat.

Jai is a very different dog, but there are also similarities.  She, like Pat, is sensitive and really wants to do the Right Thing. She is a very good dog. Some days when we work everything flows (DD calls it 'floating' when your dog and you work together in such smooth tandem like this) and it all seems too easy. 

It is.  It's what I call 'bloating'...in honor of my Expectations and Unrealistic mating and producing a child.  A fat lazy child who looks like Unrealistic's mother.  At least at this point in my training.

It's interesting how we often do not see the obvious in our dogs...I think Jai is sensitive and needs gentle soft handling.  Each time I work her, she is better with me, and most of the time she takes my flanks, almost always a stop....P*trick suggested that Almost isn't good enough in any sense, nor is a gentle 'tsk tsk' (or 'God Damn' at the post);  that, infact, I am a hippie and need to either get chijuajuas and dress them in civil war reinactment outfits or start issuing some consequences for The Blow Off. (I might be paraphrasing).

Patrick suggested that I need to make sure that I am communicating CLEARLY what I want and that she takes my corrections.  Jai is letting her own clever opinion override some of my riskier, in her mind, calls.  For instance, the Away whistle...the Away Screech and the Away Pleading had no discernable effect on Jai this weekend.  It was as if she were a running (speedily) endorsement for Come Bye, inc.(tm)  I expect to see shelves of Come Bye Kibble with her big-eared earnest face on the front at my local petfood store.  In the fuzzy out of focus background will be me flailing with my right hand.  A post.  The words NOW WITH LAMB!! in bold clear font where the panels would be.

We missed most every panel.  That was my fault.  I overflanked and our run began to look like pole weaving. 

I told P*trick that I thought that all trials should have a novice class.  The good open handlers make trialing look so easy; handlers like me make it look realistic. 

He suggested that I start aiming for stuff in practice. This is precisely what I intend to do. I might also buy a little canon off of ebay. And a General's hat, size hideous small.

Taco Tuesday

Sheep camp was, as Susan said, "really effin' good". 

I really appreciated having Don Helsley present the technical details of what constitutes a good handler, good dog, and good run the first two days, helping us define our dog's and our own weaknesses, followed by Patrick's more cerebral approach of what factors influence these details, how it's all about communication, really, and learning to be effective in translating and conveying information on the field between you and your dog, making your dog accountable, etc.  Patrick is really uniquely able to read people and animals and pointing out what may sometimes afterward seem obvious but one would never come up with on one's own, especially if one is prone to being distracted by one's own humming.  I could go on but I'm tired now, had my third night of pizza and beer, no run in 4 days, and its a fact that I am on the cusp of just jabbering. 

Suffice it to say that I needed this and it was good. 

Now, tomorrow I return to work where I have successfully cornered myself into having one day to prepare a "high tech" presentation for a group of unknowns.  I hate this sort of thing but the man who asked me to do it is a really nice person who always gives me books and talks softly and nicely to me and never insinuates that I'm insane or sarcastic or lucky to have a job.   He's the head of our external affairs and should know better than to stick me in front of a group of his well-dressed 'constituants' ....but sometimes these nice people just believe Karma will see them through.  I am loathe to be part of his hard lessons learned process, but....we all have our role to play.  I think I'll dress like a taco or anatomically correct therapy bear. 

Randomly on Handlers and Handling, Sort of....

Patrick started today by saying that if he had to sum up what makes a great handler in one word it would be 'Observant'. 

I was hoping that he'd said 'A Servant' and I thought, not for the first time, of adopting a child with both viable organs and an affinity for dogs....but that's twice as many words and if I had to chose between a spare liver and a decent run at some future trial...well, it's a child, not a choice.  Way too much trouble for a small check and a figurine, or whatever; I'd take the liver.

Patrick described a great handler as someone who notices all the details and makes adjustments to his run accordingly - little things like the movement of a sheep's ears indicating a potential future effect and correcting for it.

"Be offensive, not defensive."

It's never been suggested that I should be wanting in the offensive area.  AND I am observant, though its usually that the details are absorbed and I don't reflect on them until later.  Sometimes much later.  This isn't helpful on the field or with dogs in general. Or my life.  I wish I had a servant to keep track of these things and to secrete bile.  Pass me little notes....

The other thing Patrick said today, and has said before, and I know I've written about it because it is really what I love about this stockdog work more than anything else--- is that "training" your dog is really not about teaching your dog the technical details of what moves livestock so much as communication -- between you and your dog.  Your dog was born knowing most of what is required.  You need to learn how to communicate with your dog.   

I'm not a good communicator in any traditional sense.  Some people who have met me recently really seem to be surprised by this...but trust me. I am not. It's actually almost clinical how shy and introverted I have been and can be.  I'm not at ease around most people. Most people I will just avoid.   Socially I really *fuck up* a lot.  The people I seem to communicate with are not your Dale Carnegie graduates.  It makes sense to me that, just as I can't (or won't) communicate with many people effectively, its likely that for all of us some dogs will be easier to achieve a good relationship with than others, and very few, if any, will be truly great.  One person's great dog might be another person's furtive little beast. 

Pat and I had a good day. We really need to work on our 'aim' ... He listens though, and is easy to correct. It only takes once with him because he doesn't like to be wrong. Which is perfect because I JUST DON'T HAVE IT IN ME TO BE ANGRY OR TO SCREAM.  Not unless someone makes me watch back to back Battlestar Galatica because 'it's a great show' or I'm on fire. 

I love Pat. He's a sweet dog with a huge heart.   He's overly sensitive and old and Humps like someone you'd find skulking around the oversized book section of the public library with his fly unzipped.   

Patrick and Dianne exchange looks when I ask if they might breed him so I can have a puppy. 

"Tell Patrick how you've taught him to use the doggy door!" Dianne prompts, giving Patrick a look.

"And how you took him into the bathroom with you while you took a bath so he wouldn't have to go back in his crate!"

(Pat can't be trusted to run free in the house and I didn't want him to have to go back in his crate, after he'd just spent a few hours in it already.  He was confused and fascinated by a tub of water.  It was pretty funny, actually.  Uhhhh...fuck you. I mean that in the nicest way possible.)

Pat learned to use the stairs in GL so I wouldn't have to go in the basement alone.  He's laying on my feet right now, his big fat flat paws crossed.  He goes home tomorrow, after the clinic. I will miss him. I want a dog just like him someday.

So neither of us knows our flanks under pressure.   I think we could figure it out well enough. Until the child comes.

Hump Day

Today we worked on refining what we learned yesterday. 

Pat worked well for me.  He was pretty consistent in taking 'lie down'...often right away, but with a correction for sure.  Our biggest issue is still timing. Don feels that it is not my timing as much as the lag between my direction to Pat and his taking it. He thinks it will improve for both of us with practice and time together. One thing is certain: Pat works best with a good hump under his pelt, so to speak. 

Right before our first time out this morning, Pat sidled up to a young woman and did his lean-into-body-gaze-with-soulful-eyes routine. She fell for it, of course; we all do.  And as soon as she reached out, began petting him, telling him what a good and handsome boy he is...Pat latched on and rode her leg for at least 8 seconds. 

Then I called him off and we walked with Don out onto the field.  The outrun was nice, we made the panels and penned. 

Our second time out highlighted the issue with timing.  Don had me send Pat on an outrun and bring the sheep around me and then drive off toward the panels.  Don reminded me to use the draw to straighten the drive/fetch. Lie the dog down and let the sheep correct themselves into the draw. The outrun, lift and fetch was great.  We did okay getting the sheep around me, but it was clumsy. Pat seemed to fall apart consistently on the away side. I don't know if that is usual for him, or whether it was all about this field and the location of the draw, his response to pressure; but he would cut in and loose his head and then I'd lose mine and yell the wrong command which he'd take.  Then we'd lose the sheep. Then I would utter extremely foul language not endorsed by the USBCHA, Don would fumble to turn the mic off on the radio, not in time, women would faint and I,finally, collapsed in tears, and a deep furrow; I cried like a baby, in a heap of my own leavings... and eventually, inevitably, I turned to drugs and prostitution.   During rehab I claimed to prefer goats or animals that climb things and don't stick together. I'm more of a cat person. Or dogs that wear jackets.

Not really. This paragraph was starting to bore even me.  I'm tired. Does this suck? I'll fix it tomorrow.

So, basically, I have a lot to work on with Pat.  Still, we did get our second pen.  I have to say, though: It was luck.  Really. It wasn't about me or Pat. It was just a little about me and Pat. Mostly, blind dithering luck.

One other thing I learned from this experience:

I love setout.  I know most people focus on trialing, and I'd like to trial, no doubt.  I could be happy shooting for being a decent setout person, though. I like the task.  Pat did a great job. I think the simple, close work made our efforts on the field together much better as well.