In which I create a stockdog rubric

The CVASC trial opened today and I got a call from Roland encouraging me to enter (love him). I know I said I was ready to trial again, but I think only if I am doing it for the experience rather than hoping to qualify.

But do you know how much it costs to trial for a weekend? A BOAT LOAD. And I am not with a lot of free cash right now (hey, my truck broke down last week . . .  wee!) for such things. Also, honestly? There’s a lot of other things I’d rather be doing on a weekend than trialing. That’s always been the case. I used to LOVE conformation showing, but I don’t think I’ve ever LOVED trialing, no matter what venue. I think being raised in dogs, for this long, whatever it was that was magical when I was younger is gone for me. That’s okay. Different strokes for different folks.

Speaking of that, all of this questioning of the “status quo” as it were that I’ve been doing has led me down a new train of thought to explore, and one of the things I did was open up my copy of The Traveling Herding Teacher (Bob Vest’s book) and read it for more than just a cursory overview today. Just what IS so different about his thoughts and what I’ve been taught?

Not a lot that I can see, aside from being more reliant on a line and on tying sheep to create scenarios. It seems like the order he trains in is a lot different than what I know. In the KW system, you work on the stop, sure, but mostly you let the dog work it out themselves while teaching an out, then the fetch, then flanks, then drive. If the dog doesn’t work it out him/herself, you start handling more. In his system, it’s broken down a lot more, and a lot more obedience and scenarios first before more complex things like fetch and drive. It reminds me a lot of the Woods’ style – which, like I said, seemed a lot to be based in KW’s methods but more expectation of dog obedience first and use of lines.

And, interestingly, using the Woods’ style seems to have created some holes for me in terms of Rippa and her feeling in control. I was wondering about this but then if I’m 1/2 the training doing it KW style and then switching to the other, that’s got to create holes because one depends on a totally different foundation to start.

And if I’m right about this, I understand why it’s taken me so long to get where I’m at – I thought I was loyal to one method that I know works but in wanting to be open to other ideas and not stubborn in the face of people who clearly know what they’re doing, I might have delayed the first style’s process and created a few problems (none of which I feel are unfixable).

And so, the teacher in me used Bob Vest’s book to make a rubric:

A completely finished  stockdog will have all the components below:

1. Call Off – The dog stops working and goes out of contact (“That’ll Do”)
2. Flanks
1. Come By
2. Way to Me
3. Dog can flank 360 degrees in both directions around handler
4. Dog can run 1.5 x around with both directions around handler
5. Dog can pass inside of handler (inside flank) on both sides
6. Short flanks both directions
7. Regular flanks both directions
8. Wide flanks both directions
3. 3. Walk up
1. Dog can push stock past handler for short distances
2. Dog can do this “around the clock” with handler in fixed position
3. Dog can walk up and hold pressure in a take pen
4. Dog can grip and release pressure in pen
5. Dog can move back (see “back”) in the face of pressure
4. Stop
1. Dog stands
2. Dog lays down
5. Back - Dog backs up or switches direction by taking pressure off
6. Out – Dog gets wider in relation to stock
7. Look Back – dog can leave stock in control and pick up other stock to bring to them
8. Outrun
1. Able to stop at any point in the outrun
2. Able to redirect dog at any point in the outrun
3. Walking up for the lift
9. 9. Fetch
1. Walks up on command to fetch
2. Holds the line to fetch (aka, straight to me, not all over)
3. Self-paces on the fetch (aka, not too much pressure or too little)
4. Stops on the fetch
5. Flanks on the fetch
6. Backs on the fetch
7. Out on the fetch
8. Can make a clean turn around a post
10. Drive
1. Can walk up away from handler balance
2. Holds the line on the drive
3. Paces the drive
4. Stops on the drive
5. Flanks on the drive
6. Backs and outs on the drive
7. Turns around gates

I bolded the ones I feel I have 100% down.  So that’s maybe half, and not in the right order that Bob Vest aligned them into. HOLES! Holes that I TOTALLY KNEW I WAS CHEATING WITH KW’S METHOD but ignored because I was trying to focus on other things. And because it’s not a solid foundation, it’s not going smooth.

At least, that’s the theory. It’s ALWAYS the theory.

AND SO, my new goal is to evaluate where I’m at so I can see measurable (and small) goals to get where I want to be.

Gratitude and Getting There

So I haven’t written in a while because I needed some processing time. After the trial, I was SUPER sore. Like I had an epic workout. I was also emotionally drained. The husband was like, “Well, duh. I expected you to stress and you did. You put a lot into this.”

We went on a big work trip scouting for a race we put on right after. The dogs LOVED it. The Fury was about 5 weeks post her big surgery to fix her leg and, you know what, I admit it, we let it ride. She was able to come along on hikes with us and we watched it carefully but no issues. We got cleared a week later and he said she looked phenomenal, especially for her age, so I don’t feel bad. I happen to think my huz and I are pretty good at understanding our dogs’ health.

Plus, they got to see snow. Rippa spent a lot of time post-holing in it, both of them eating it, and the Fury, well . . .

In the middle of the week, I had a lot of time on my hands because I was shuttling my husband on his bike because the dogs couldn’t come and sitting in the car a lot. I kept thinking about that trial. About how I couldn’t qualify after all this time and it didn’t seem right and really, if that’s the case, whose fault is that? Maybe Aussies really are crap after all and I should give it up. I mean, really, what I really thought was that I was probably crap and things weren’t ever going to get better because I KNEW what to do but I couldn’t seem to grasp it.

So I asked about it on the Internet and my friends helpfully suggested lots of things, but when the people at the trial chimed in, the message was “You did good. It takes practice to trial well. Calm down.”

I have been talking to a friend fairly new to the breed and she was saying she wish she’d gotten into it when she was as young as me (I was 12) but getting into it that young also messed me up a bit – I REALLY care about stuff. And as much as I get annoyed with “dog fanciers” and their competing to know more intellectually without actually knowing it common-sense/experience-wise, I’m one too. I have to stop WORRYING about what it all means and trust myself that I probably know things are fine.

So, I couldn’t WAIT to get back to stockdogging after the trip. I took everyone’s advice to heart. Maxine said that I needed to let her take control to start and then trust my dog and she’d be night and day. At the time I literally couldn’t understand that. Couldn’t put it into practice. A couple people who agree with her (okay, EVERYONE agrees with her), suggested I muzzle her when I work so I can relax because I just HATE it when she hurts the stock. I looked around for my muzzle but couldn’t find it in the move and decided that I could do what Maxine (and everyone else) said without it.




Wait for it . . .

 

Wait for it . . .

 

HOLY CRAP, IT WORKED! I stopped worrying about what Rippa looked like doing things and just went about my business. I put her into the take pen with the sheep, didn’t care how it looked, let her bring them out, didn’t look to see what was happening behind me and closed the gate. Rippa had gone out, collected them, and brought them to me. No cheap shots.

I walked out to the alley-way across Stephanie’s field, opened that gate, walked the sheep through, when they tried to run, Rippa stopped them, held them . . .

And then we worked on just getting out in tight quarters a bit, and every time I said “No” she would back off.

We opened the gate to the bigger field, did some fetching (heeding John’s advice that I just do fetching until my shoes wear out) and worked on “out” and outruns, then put them through another fence with a HUGE draw to a gate, and the Rippa bear caught them, brought them back. I walked toward the gate while Rippa went to head and then behind and head, behind, then figured out where to be to hold them along with me and stayed there.

Ladies and gentlemen, there she was. That was it.

No cheap shots, no handling by me . . . Rippa just taking care of business and being cool about it. I understood what Maxine said about kicking her out and letting her get control now. She can do it, and so can I. I get it. For some reason I just didn’t.

Don’t believe me? Here’s a little clip I made to show friends what the heck I do.

Pretty nice, yeah?

When it came to cattle – I had been thinking long and hard about this because I thought I had handled well at the trial and then didn’t qualify because of control points. People ALWAYS think that Rippa is stubborn but time and time she proves me right that she’s more of a thinking dog. If she doesn’t get something, she gets sullen and will quit working hard until she figures it out. It can be frustrating and easy to judge, but I specifically wanted more thinking when I picked her site to breed to the Fury who is like, “GO HARD ALL THE TIME!” and sometimes can’t think because she’s too committed to just doing something.

With Shannon and Dustin, we’d been working on responsiveness and tweaking. Putting her in the right place and getting the job done. And that’s what I did at the trial mostly (not all of it was pretty, as I said). But now I think I understand where the BC/Aussie difference is. Rippa doesn’t need to be put somewhere, she just needs to understand the job. So, I told Shan when I came back that I would rather just work on fundamentals because she clearly felt out of control during the trial. I needed to stop telling her what to do and let her “feel” her stock out like she was doing with the sheep (and ducks).

What we have been working on is outruns and fetching.

The Woods have two places for cattle to go in their backyard. One is a smallish arena with obstacles set up and then there’s this “L” shaped alley way that’s wider up top and on a hill.  Shannon and I work on her outruns up there. It’s a little annoying sometimes because the cows will go down the leg of the L we don’t want them to if the pressure’s not right, but the exercise is neat and it works.

Here’s the setup:

Cows                       Me                                               Shannon                Rippa

Shannon generally has to place Rippa because her pressure is sometimes too much for the dog. Boss lady intimidates her. So what we do is lay her down, and both of us post up by the fence line but letting Rippa still see the cows (not blocking her view).

And then:

So, we send Rippa away (Shannon says it), and then walks toward the other fenceline to keep her out. When/if she cuts in, I am then there to walk forward to kick her out and then she’s nice and out when she comes into the cows. Then we fetch backward.

It’s working really well, but the fetching needs a lot of work. We moved to the arena and the job changed from just this exercise to navigating around the obstacles and just much harder so Rippa got slower and crankier and wanted to quit. We got her to do some stuff and left it. I get really frustrated with that, but I also think with time she’ll get it so I need to stop judging one go like that. She just doesn’t feel in control on cattle yet, and I was taking what control she did have away by worrying more about her obedience.

So anyway, that’s where we’re at. Pretty happy. Definitely planning on entering the next trial – even though I thought I wanted more mileage. I think this time I understand it.

I thanked Stephanie today for having faith in me and letting me make all these mistakes so I could eventually figure it out. It takes a brave, trusting woman to let my dog take cheap shots on her sheep and know that it will come out okay eventually.

When I get my own stock someday, I’m definitely going to remember the value of working stock away from a watchful eye and trusting people to figure it out on their own. I’m also just SO grateful to the people that made sure that Rippa’s ancestors had all the instinct they needed. Being able to sit back and let her work and make the right decisions is so key in MY development and if she were missing something somewhere, I couldn’t be in this phase of learning.

Our first trial–miles to go!

Well, it’s done. And I feel like I need to work backward to get the most use out of this blog.

I am an emotional mess tonight and I don’t know why, exactly. Partly I’m sure it’s sleep: I was so worried that I would miss my alarm that I woke up a TON last night. Partly I think it’s relief that it’s over.

Prior to this experience I trialed a total of FOUR times and the last was seven years ago. I think, “Oh, I have been training forever,” but you know what? I’m a real beginner. FOUR times, seven years ago. I knew jack. I spent all of last week being like OH NO! There’s strategy! What do I do?

I started out the day with plenty of time to do all my little rituals and listened to power music on the way to the trial. I sat in my car before trials and tried to clear my mind. I took Rippa out and spoke softly to her.

All of things were good. Our first run was on cattle, which I had much confidence about because a – we weren’t going to get in trouble for biting them and b – we have a lot more mileage than most people there. We had some problems with taken pen (it wasn’t perfect) but I expected that, and while I expected to fetch the cattle, I just didn’t trust Rippa to do that nicely so we drove the whole way. On the way back to repen them after getting the panels, I decided to try fetching to get that control again, but the judge yelled for me to calm her down and so we quit that. She was just too amped to fetch the whole trial.

But I walked out of that run just . . . psyched. The crowd clapped and cheered for me (I think everyone knew how scary that first run was for me after all this time) and I felt great. The people at this trial were great. I’ve always been scared to trial on home turf because people make judgments about you and they stick – and I have a hard time with that, but I felt nothing but support. Love to you guys.

On to sheep – again, not a great take pen, but it happened. Then I drove them. I NEVER drive sheep. Ever. But I just didn’t feel like I could do anything else. We Q’d pretty low because I wouldn’t let her stay in contact (contact after I ramp her up from driving is bad).

Ducks were a no-go because they needed a dog to stay off them and Rippa wouldn’t. That’s okay. I don’t think anyone in started Q’d on ducks.

And that’s when I was feeling pretty good and stopped making it my business to watch myself and keep the zen thing going. I timed for Maxine, one of the judges, and asked her lots of questions about how she judges and what ideal stuff looks like and she told me I really need to trust my dog and let her work.

Have we heard this before?

So, I let myself get slightly cocky (thinking, oh boy! I am going to get my titles today) and I let myself lose focus, and in our final runs I tried pretty hard to be chill but . . . I stopped watching my stock and started yelling at my dog. And that is never good. No Qs there.

I was super nice to Rippa, though. I tried real hard to keep my voice quiet and supportive and I always made sure she got loves for her work after runs, and I never figured anything that was happening was her fault (and when I asked the judges, they confirmed it).

Nonattachment to outcome. Going into something just to learn. Treating it like a lesson. All things I need more practice doing.

Both judges were very supportive of her, telling me that if I got my team work with her solid and came back, she’d be the dog to watch. Like, wow. But I went from being cocky to being freaked out.

OH MY GOD – I HAVE BEEN TRAINING FOR SO LONG AND I MAKE ALL THESE MISTAKES HOW WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO BE THE HANDLER MY DOG NEEDS SO THAT WE CAN LIVE UP TO THIS?

Nonattachment to outcome, Kristin. Go into things just to learn. All of that.

I had to calm myself down on the drive home as I played back what happened, good and bad, and the things we need to work on, let’s be honest, I knew it. She needs to work on balancing up more. I got lazy. Nobody needed it out of me so I stopped worrying about it and worked on other details. My stick with the bottle on it is broken. I haven’t used it in SO LONG.

It’s coming back. After my last cattle run, while Maxine was judging, I sidled up next to the other judge who was just watching (John), and asked him what I needed to learn from that.

• Stockmanship – yeah, see, I know that by myself, but when Rippa’s involved, I lose it. This is because I watch my dog too much because I care about the outcome on paper and not the job of moving the animal.
• Trusting my dog. Maxine said that if I figured that out, I’d go back into the arena with a different experience altogether (positive).
• Fetching – he said, “If you haven’t worn out a pair of tennis shoes, you haven’t done enough of it.”
• Don’t get emotional – dang it, I clearly failed there. That was job #1.

And then he told me to read page 1-110 of Virgil Holland’s Herding Dogs and I have it on my desk as we type this. He said, “Read it 3x and then do it and if you don’t have it, keep reading it.”

Back to basics. I knew I should have been working on them, I really did. I can’t call Rippa off the top anymore and I can’t get her to hold sheep on a fetch to me, we still have to turn, turn, turn, or I have to rely on mechanics.

I KNEW BETTER – does this sound familiar?

And so, there you have it. I know this stuff, I just need to make it a habit.

As I was driving home, I kept thinking about this – if I have these bad habits that don’t work, it’s time to try something different. Unfortunately with stockdogs you can’t focus on one thing at a time, but I feel like keeping my notes, writing this blog, working on myself and my ability to stay calm and unreactive.

It seems like an insurmountable path to be able to be the handler I need to be so that Rippa can be what people saw in her at the trial – and I also have to be non-attached to that outcome to get there.

I guess awareness is the first step? If you’ve got ideas, I’m up for them.

And so when’s my next trial? When I fix this stuff and I enter it not “knowing better” that I have to put a band aid on something. I always hear this, “People enter started dogs way too trained stuff” and that’s why I did this. Rippa was trained, but I was right to hold out this long, and we’ll go back again when I don’t have to take her off contact to be comfortable running her at new places.