Tuesday, February 24, 2015

“The Dip”

On Sunday, the Woods invited the huz and I over for a “stockdog party” as I liked to call it. The idea of people just getting together, not for lessons, not formally, to just work dogs was so neat to me. People do that?

I wasn’t sure what it would entail, but what it was was a practice for the trials coming up. Dustin took me into the arena and showed me the course – take the cattle through the barrels in the middle of the arena, then flip them back through a Y chute and turn them back out to the middle, and then pen them in a tight, triangular pen with a small opening.

I really didn’t know how how to go about these things, because watching his first dog do it – he is way more finished than Rippa so Dustin walked me through it. It was a lot more obedience training than it was letting Rippa work, but it was good for both of us and we started figuring it out. Good for me to read the cattle better and good for Rippa to hold her line when I tell her to instead of anticipating.

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I brought my camera, too, but it was hard to take good photos with such a tight course. The above is the Y chute, where you take the dog through the panel and then use yourself to redirect them.

It was very good to learn how to maneuver like that and Rippa had a good handle on things for the most part, though we need a lot more training in her feeling in control with the cattle before I want to trial. There’s one in April coming up that Shannon has encouraged me to try, but it’s right when I open my new climbing gym and I really, really want to hold off until I know I won’t embarrass Aussies everywhere – NCA doesn’t have beginner, it has Rancher (dogs that haven’t won anything), Open, and Pro. All of which are levels up from where I am. I can send Rippa to fetch cattle and everything, but it won’t be as clean and pretty as it was for most of the runs I’ve seen at these trials and people have feelings about Aussies that I don’t want to perpetuate. After all, I want spectators to think, “Wow, nice dog. I would consider an Aussie.”

But I decided that after that, I really needed to fix some of the stuff that we’ve got holes on because of various reasons.

Various reasons: my bad timing, my hysteria from learning how to handle badly, my not wanting to make strong points to Rippa because I didn’t want to be hysterical – all of which lead to Rippa not balancing very well and wanting to come in tight all the time.

So, I went to sheep yesterday and brought my camera along. For some reason the shots I did at Stephanie’s didn’t turn out, but it is BEAUTIFUL there.  We worked on three things: not cutting the top on her outruns, making her lay down way out when the sheep come on balance, and some pen work.

I feel like I have the first two handled, and Rippa was a champ. Just need to reinforce it. But the pen work? Sigh? Rippa is great at getting stock out of pens – even awkward ones. With everyone’s coaching about chilling, it worked and Rippa is super nice even in tight spaces. When is she NOT nice? When the sheep pass through the gate and head wherever they head in a hurry.

At this point, Rippa will shoot like a bat out of hell, generally end up in the middle to get to the heads and turn them around. But it’s not controlled and confident, and while sometimes it’s nice, sometimes it’s really, really not.

Today was that day.

When I left Stephanie’s, I pulled to the side of the road and had myself a little cry.

I just have so many questions about this whole thing: I know so very little and also so much compared to some. I know that Rippa’s a nice dog, not just because I think so, but people are always telling me when they see her, but this is not going smoothly along, it’s not easy, we get hurt along the way . . . and for what? I don’t think that stockdog training is kind to the animals we train on. It can be better than some, but at other times? The stock don’t deserve what the dogs can do to them sometimes. People are okay with it – they say that’s how we learn, but like . . . I have been at this for years now and I’m only discovering what I don’t know and I don’t know where to land on what is next. I do this thing where I post on the Internet about stuff (ha ha, here I am) and people smack me down sometimes even though I know that I’m not wrong and that the people who talk are spouting dogma without much to back it up. But I’m not much better, eh? So what is right? How do I know?

Finally, I was like, “Ugh, you’re already out here and you’re bummed, why not go for a lovely drive over to see Jennifer and the ducks? You don’t have to work them – in fact, you probably don’t want to. But it’s good to see friends and beautiful places.”

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Good call. I told Jen how I was feeling and she told me to hop on her horse and ride up into the hills with her daughter, but I was like, “No . . . I am way out of whack and I shouldn’t be doing stuff with animals right now. The animals suffer.” Jen asked me, if that’s how I feel when I work, why am I doing it? And I was quick, “Because most of the time I feel amazing!” “Well then!”

So I headed down to the ducks, who were out in the pasture area eating up the tall grass, bugs, and other goodies. This is their first green spring and they love it!

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I decided I owed the Fury at least a little working for watching dogs work on Sunday and Rippa today, so I set the arena up and sat down for a minute.

Stephanie and I were talking before I worked her sheep and she said two things to me that came to me as I was sitting there – I had complained to her about how I was feeling torn about everything.

1. She said she’d seen a photo recently where the dog’s getting pushed out with the stick and that makes the dog go in tighter rather than giving space and pressure.

2. She said that I know enough to make the right decisions.

#1 was certainly true during sheep (and cattle, when I get upset, Rippa goes in tighter), and since she had faith in me even though stuff didn’t go well that day, I could probably do this.

And so, I put the Fury on the ducks. She tends to run in really tight, especially on the Go-By side out of frustration with me and take it out on the stock, so instead of going to confront her and pushing her out, I tried Stephanie’s method and took pressure off of her that was coming from me. Bam. Worked like a charm. The Fury has not worked so well in a while.

I tried it with Rippa and again . . . bam. Like a charm.

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And my day was now turned around.

I recently read a book called The Dip by Seth Godin – a book about when to quit. In it, he says, you should quit if you don’t think you’re going to be The Best in the World at something.

Okay, before I go further, I have zero idea what that means for me in this area. I don’t want to be The Best in the World at stockdog trialing, I know that. It would be cool to be that kind of trainer, but I don’t have to be. But I’m headed toward something, and we’ll see where that goes.

But, if you’re on the path to Best in the World, this is what it will look like:

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So far, that’s pretty much what I feel like has happened. When I got The Fury, I peaked a bit, but then when it became obvious that I wasn’t going to get much further without a lot more mileage and she was probably “ruined” and the dip sank. Then I got Rippa and it was exciting, but when my stockdog options dried up, major low point. I think I’m at the crest upward, and it looks like once I get stuff dialed, according to Seth, it’s a short trip to the payoff.

But how the heck I’m supposed to keep the faith in myself, keep building my understanding of the bigger picture (it’s severely lacking – all vague right now – when I was training under Kathy, I grasped the mechanics of the training to its own end, but not of the bigger picture of the dog working in a ranch setting, and certainly not trialing), keep working on my handling skills while trying not to reinforce bad habits I’ve put into Rippa, and get Rippa feeling totally in control of the stock.

Dang, that’s a lot.

The hardest part is the amount of opinions on the subject. Everyone has one – and I was once sheltered by Kathy’s opinions only, but Stephanie has different ideas and Shannon has different ideas and Dustin and books and the Internet. I feel like I “get” Kathy’s ideas. I know “better” like Stephanie says. Kathy’s message has been transmitted, but I’m so damned open minded – I don’t want to be dogmatic about things, I want to be open to new ideas, but MAN, does that make life confusing.

And what do I do every time? Go back to what I learned from Kathy. I’m wondering if I should learn something from that. heh.

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Thursday, February 12, 2015

Small goals, sheer aggie happiness, Working Aussie Source

I went to school to be a vet or be involved in animal production. For three years I took classes that taught me how to feed livestock, catch them, breed them, etc, etc and I also took all these science courses.

I’m bad at math. Science is a lot of math. So I switched majors.

And I switched trajectory. I played lacrosse and found passion there. I learned to climb and devoted most of my life to it. And, while I did poke around with dogs and animals, I never really got into it. I think most people had no idea that my first love was livestock, that I rode for years and years, and generally, nobody asked.

I think it’s really interesting now that I’ve found some success in the climbing industry and other places that I’m able to circle back to what I love, which is, really, animal husbandry. (Though I like a tiny bit of farming, as evidenced by my garden and slight obsession with landscaping that came with  buying the house.)

My husband went away last week to work an event in Nicaragua. And I was pretty jealous. Nobody invited me to do it professionally and I didn’t get an opportunity to see a new place or practice my Spanish (I’m proficient and I love it).  But, interestingly, as soon as he was gone, I realized I was pretty dang happy with the dogs and working the animals, gathering eggs, weeding, and working on our jobs.

While I was doing that, Kay Spencer emailed me and asked me if I wanted to take over Working Aussie Source as she has decided to move on from Aussie stockdogs.  She suggested including my right hand gal, Amy, on the project if I wanted, which I wanted to. Amy and I have found a really nice balance to eachother’s skills in developing dog community and I like sharing the wealth.

Kay giving this project to Amy and me allows us to take our energy and do some good with it while not having to worry about politics, clubs, or being on the right side of the fence. It’s also going to allow us to move fast and have a great impact if we want to. This is awesome.

And then, icing on the cake, Kay boxed up her library and sent it to me.

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A complete set of Ranch Dog Trainer magazines, a couple books, a bunch of DVDs with stockdog footage . . . tres magnifique! I cannot wait to go through it, post the good stuff she hadn’t gotten to, and share it with the world!

Honestly, I think it’s good to walk away when you’re not getting enough out of it, and I am always teetering on that edge, but then again, something like this happens and I leap right back in. I’m a dork, what can I say?

Thank you, Kay.

And so, here I am. Dorking out with all these books, with a Woods goat in my backyard for a few days grazing down all the weeds that I can’t get under control myself.

10988496_10101754128329625_2638708264738981636_n“Goatee” doesn’t love me, but that’s okay, just eat my weeds.

Because Rippa was such a jerk last week and she’s in full blown standing heat (along with the Fury, which is a first that they came in together – and my vet was assuming she didn’t come into heat anymore), I decided to lay off ducks and sheep this week despite a trial coming up. She can be cranky on cattle, that’s fine. Instead, she was totally fine on cattle, but if I slowed the action anywhere near where a boy was tied up, she felt the dilemma of “cow? or sex?” She picked cow, but any release and it was like, “Well hellooooooooooo nurse.” Accidental DSW Bossies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but let’s not.

Ever since I quit working on obedience objectives and just kind of let Rippa feel her out, a lot’s happened: she is reading her stock more, not cutting in, not taking cheap shots, and I’m able to watch the stock more to improve my own handling. In fact, on the cheap shot department? She’s a pro at hitting those heads now – and she’s getting more and more powerful as her confidence comes around. She will heel, but generally waits to see what they do first so not as much as the heading. She’s definitely a heading fool.

At the end of the session, I was feeling pretty good. Shannon said I was going to do better than most because I really, really put in the time and energy to understand things and told me that while she gets why I’m not putting much obedience on her anymore, I really need to watch two things:
1. My tone of voice. I can get excited and start yelling commands as corrections. Nope. Bad, bad Kristin.

2. I let Rippa blow commands sometimes because she’s watching her stock. Shannon points out that while she gets that, there’s going to be a time when you’re working pairs or trialing and one cow gets away and you DON’T want her to break her stay to fix it. So she says, work on those outruns and making sure she gets to get “all of them” but when we’re fooling with stuff, she’s got to mind the commands.

I haven’t been working on driving or anything because I really want both of us to improve our headspace with this new method, and I think that’s fine for now. I think I was focused too far on made-up goals when if I just give space to Rippa to learn to manage her sheep and me to learn to handle better, we’ll bet better for it in the long run.

So that’s where we’re at.  Happy Valentine’s day, friends.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Dogs on the rag and trusting what you know

Rippa came into heat this week. People talk about how dogs go “off” or what have you because of this and you know, as a woman, I get it. Sometimes you just feel awful. And heat lasts a solid month – yup. Cranky.

This time last year, Rippa completely quit ducks, and almost quit sheep. People blamed her heat and I thought it was her and . . . soul searching and what not, I thought – no, it’s totally me.

Well, she’s in heat again and it’s not TOTALLY me.

She was great on cows yesterday though started to give up toward the end – but these are not short little sessions at this point. The dog is working a solid hour or so with short water breaks or what not most of the time.  I’m fairly tolerant of her getting over it because it’s not doing a chore for an hour, it’s being messed with for an hour. It’s cool.

But today, I went out to sheep and my friend Roland was there. Roland was as excited to see me as I was to see him so we kind of chatted with eachother while I worked Rippa. Rippa did NOT have patience for that. And I figured that out right away.

We also had a lamb that would break off and not stay with the group, and she had very little patience for that, too. Normally that would mean she would go harder on the lamb and teach it a lesson, but today?

Toss your paws up in the air and say “Eff that lamb, I’m not working it.”

We stopped trying to deal with said lamb and just went to fenceline fetching and take pens and holding pressure and such and that made Rippa happy. Gathering that errant lamb? KRISTIN, I HAVE CRAMPS. WHERE IS MY MIDOL?

I took her and the Fury over to sheep after, and The Fury is doing just awesome there. Her leg is great and she’s giving to the pressure of the ducks and taking flanks, it’s awesome.

Rippa, however? SCREW YOU, LAGGING DUCK.  Where she’d normally back off and be patient, she literally scooped the duck up and dragged it forty feet before I was able to stop her and let her know, “Heck no, we do not do that!” And quit her.

Looks like Rippa’s fuse is short today. She and the Fury got into a tussle twice in close quarters and now she’s laying on my bed groaning. Ehhhh . . . cramps, man, what you going to do?

In other news, I entered another trial in March. My husband says that despite me not liking to trial, he feels it’s a good investment to get me to stop freaking out and be good at it. The Woods might go for support and to check it out (and the huz, too) but I don’t expect anyone to.  I feel pretty good about this trial this time because ever since I stopped worrying about how it looked and her obedience, we’ve found our rhythm.

I have been doing not a lot with Rippa on cows aside from outruns and fetching and let her feel out how they work. She’s quit trying to take body shots and cheap shots and is pretty dang good at hitting the nose and poll to stop them. She’s also not taking shots at all and patiently waiting for them to move under pressure. Shannon says we both look a million times better and as Rippa gets to feel the cows out, she’s getting way better in the biddablity department, too.

Same with sheep. Roland was like, “Wow, night and day” (just like Maxine promised) and “Wow, I like that little dog.” She is balancing and working and being honest. No cheap shots because she has control.

It’ll be different in a trial situation for sure, but now I “get it” where I didn’t before. And by that, I get that “I know what is best” for my dog and I need to stay true to that. I think I’ve said it before, but this is a huge weakness for me in life. Other people trust their instincts, their guts, their feelings – I don’t. I completely mistrust them – I need to gather opinions and logic before I act a lot of time. It makes be a pretty good leader/team player because of that, but it paralyzes me in the face of adversity or accusation. Stockdogging is super good for your personality quirks.

And finally, I wish I had a video of it, but Roland was separating one lamb out and working just it with his border collie, Jessie. It was a thing of beauty. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone try to deliberately do what he was doing, or if I have (because I can think of a few times), it was never so impressive. Jess was working them like a person would. She’d work slowly, methodically, watch the sheep – try something – adjust to whatever it caused . . . and all Roland asked for was a “there” or a “bring her.” No commands, just pure thinking dog, and it was a thing of beauty to see her hold that lamb’s pathway despite a billion other draws.

It was just . . . stockdoggy perfection.