Went back to cattle today. Shannon and Dustin had some very easy calves this go round, which was perfect for Rippa. They rotate their stock out when they get too easy and so dogs get a pretty good exposure to different behaviors as they go. I love this. It's got to be a lot of work to find calves to switch in and out (it used to be going to the stockyard auctions, but they got a hook up with a local cattleman), which again shows me how awesomely dedicated they are to being, well, awesome.
Anyway, I decided to go into the cattle the same way I did with the sheep. Big stick, no expectations, eyes wide open.
I told Shannon we needed to work on chores because I'm starting to get that I've been pushing for obstacle training and it's been shutting Rippa's confidence down big time.
Jobs today for her: get the cattle off the hill, put them in the obstacle/pen and hold them, and put them away. I was going to try to not be too involved with the whole thing but correct her for mistakes and praise when she was right.
We never talk about the handler when we talk about how good the dog is, but man . . . I have said this before and I'll say it again, I gave myself SUCH bad habits. It's hard to break bad habits, but if the me of now sees how far I've come in mindset and habits compared to the mindset of me ten years ago in regular life, I can overcome this. I just know I have to. At the end of the session, when I put the cattle back with Rippa, I was like, "I won't take the stick, I'll just let her do stuff." Shannon: "You sure?" Me: "Yes." Shannon: "OH MY GOD KRISTIN YOU FRUSTRATE ME SO MUCH!"
I thought she was talking about setting something up correctly and helping her, which I didn't want to do. I wanted Rippa to naturally figure it out herself. She was talking about the stick. The stick made such a big difference today because I didn't need to use aggressive body language to get her to mind and she was much happier.
Which brings me to zen and the art of stockdogging. I don't tell many people but I do a lot of selfwork. Meditation, work on negative self-talk, working on non-judgement and non-attachment. The latter two are ESPECIALLY challenging on stock for the reasons I outlined last time.
So here's my plan of attack with that. Since I am no longer in the cozy busom of Australian Shepherd land where I'm comparing my dogs to other Aussies, seeing Aussies work, and having different expectations, I have to stop thinking that my dog needs to be a border collie, work like a border collie, and progress like one. I totally see how while I guarded against that at first, it sucked me in.
1. I need to learn a lot more about the job of an Aussie and why its loose-eyed upright style is good for it compared to the stronger eyed, wide running Border Collie. I want to see both work big herds without a lot of training. I want to see both in their elements. I want to talk to stockmen and see what they use them for and why. And I will. I asked Shannon that next time she turns her young dogs on a lot of cattle, to please bring me along. It's one thing to see her perfectly finished dogs like I did at the ranch, and another to see newbs. How do they work for them at first, what does all this arena training do? Etc. I also need to find ranchers with Aussies, which is a bigger job. A lot more travelling for sure.
2. I need to look at my own dog with non-judgement and non-attachment and evaluate her and my performance on that, not on the yard stick of others. It bothers me that it has taken a long time to get where I have with her, but I think a lot of it is me and not her - but only a new puppy with a new foundation will prove that one. What we have right now is what we have right now, and it's plenty enough. In my apprenticeship of stockdogs, whatever Rippa lacks, I can make work for sure - whether it's fixing myself or learning how to help her.
So, going into it, here's what I got out of the session:
What Rippa does nicely:
1. Is very interested in helping me get jobs done rather than make stuff up for herself.
2. She is hitting heads and heels pretty evenly and not totally superflously. I've said before that it seems like in trial land you don't want them hitting at all, but I'd rather her develop her hits over time than not do it at all. She's been favoring the head hits a lot more and I was thinking she wasn't balanced, but today she hit heels when she was driving them sometimes and it was nice and low on the heel rather than high on the haunch like how she was when she started. And she clearly is making choices about when and who to hit. He hits to the head I like a lot, too. She gets right in there and makes deliberate choices. She doesn't go for the nose, but for the poll, which I'm not sure is good or bad. For really rough stock, I think you'd want the more sensitive nose, but she doesn't need it on any of the Woods' cattle, so maybe it's there and she doesn't need it, or maybe it's not and that's something to know about her. Either way, it's nice. It's nice to look at for sure. It's nice to have, too, because I know that in addition to dogs not willing to hit at all, most tend to favor one or another. The fact that she's got both (like her mother) is nice.
3. She really, really minds the stick now and is able to balance the cattle to me and fetch the way I've been wanting but not getting before.
4. She's brave enough to pull them off the fence by going between them again. She did it once and it didn't totally work out so I helped her a couple times, but this was a strength she got at the Betty Williams clinic and we'd lost it a bit there for a while.
5. She stops really nicely.
6. She'll take most of her "outs" though it doesn't mean really get out wider, but stop working the flank you're working right now. That's okay. See #1.
What Rippa's not doing nicely:
1. She does not feel good working independently. When we were putting them away, I asked her for an outrun to the end of the arena to bring them to me and she went about halfway and stopped, waiting for help from me. Given that she was happy to do this earlier, this is probably created by me training for trials and doing fake drives during the trials themselves by calling her in to me and then sending her again instead of having a good drive. Fixable, I think.
2. No there, no walk up. I definitely broke this, and I think this has to do with #1 because that's it. She'd rather go to head than get behind them.
3. Rating herself. When she has them on the fence and starts parallel driving with me, she'll get excited and start pushing them too hard and I have to either verbally slow her down or send her to head. I think she WANTS the opportunity to go to head but I don't want her to do that. She's pushy. She gets right up their butts if they'll let her, so while some of that is training, some of that is her.
What Rippa does differently than the Woods' dogs:
1. She does not like big, wide outruns. She'll cut as much as she can and come in directly on the flank to get behind them. Like I said before, this does actually work. It's not stylish, but if she's not trying to make trouble and not going too fast, it's fine. I was reading about this on the Internet - the loose eyed dogs will work closer, but slower than the eye dogs that do fast, wide work. Like, **click** - I've been worrying that Rippa's slowing down and paying less attention while never getting wider and . . . duh. She's being loose-eyed. It's her thing. It's what she was bred for. STOP COMPARING YOURSELF TO THE OTHER DOGS.
2. She's not crisp on her commands. Shan and Dust both can put their dogs exactly where they want them and they will do that all day long for them. Something I know from Kathy and everyone else is that if you stop the Aussie from working, it's like a punishment. On your feet, always working, don't take away the job. Rippa's busy thinking about stuff and is going to question what I want, ESPECIALLY because half the time I'm too slow to know what I want when I'm handling the cattle because I'm too busy looking at her and not the stock.
A really good article about the differences is on WorkingAussieSource by Jeanne Weaver. In it, she says, BCs take pressure off easily and rate more naturally, plus they're better at seeing the bigger picture for those big outruns. Aussies aren't meant to be good here. They have power to move really tough stock up close. In fact, in Rippa's case, she has too much power to work light stock up close - I go back to the one trial where we had to do ASCA started E course and I had to get her lined out from the back of the arena to fetch through the panels because she just can't dial back the presence (at least yet) of sheep that aren't used to her and they want to be as far from her as possible.
Anyway, I think I'll have a better time staying true to my dog if I just look at what she's got and refine that within limits as well as get a better understanding of how she's different from the dogs I see all the time and how that fits into the equation. After all, if you're going to sell people on a dog, you need to be honest if it's the right dog for them.
Do I think I'll kick Border Collie ass at horseback cattle trials? Probably not. Moving a small head of stock through finite panels is not going to be her forte'. Can we do it for fun? Sure thing. Do I even think I'll kick Aussie ass at trials? Honestly? I don't. Low qualifying scores are fine with me. She's a fine little chore dog and if I can get past the confidence stuff, we can say whether she'd make a good ranch gathering dog - right now it's lacking there, but I wonder how much of that is me making mistakes all this time so that her confidence is shot (she's a sensitive dog to me for sure). It would be interesting to go to the Woods' ranch and try to gather in some of their cattle out of the hills and brush - would she have the go juice to do it or would she say, "This is hard and I don't feel good about it?"
One of the things I feel like watching her today is that if I get the confidence thing licked right now, we might have a very different essay soon. Having trained her to do a lot of things at this point, she's been very serious about being right. When she learns something new, she gets really cranky about it, sluggish, not excited to try it. But as soon as she "gets" it, she GETS it and the energy comes back 100%. Part of the time off things we did were training things and I have been teaching her formal fetch. I do positive clicker-type training and she will stop offering behaviors or look like she's bored (or try to just get the treats) but if you hang in there long enough, she'll have a break through and you'll get REALLY happy behavior offering. In fact, she's REALLY fun to train when this happens.You just have to realize she's a sullen learner.
Hey, we're all different, right? Good thing I'm also a professional teacher. Take them where they're at, find what ignites their heart, and take them where you want them to go.
Non-attachment, non-judgement, and understanding the differences that exist. Ohm.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Monday, July 27, 2015
Back from a Break and Better For It
This will be a long post, but I'll get the stuff you might be interested out of the way and leave my ramblings toward the end - this is primarily for me to get stuff down so I remember it, but I know people read this, so here goes:
We took a bit more than a month break from most stock activities. We did sheep once and there's always some light chicken work to do (push them out of the coop, put them back, put them out into the side yard, bring them back, etc), but really not much.
A couple reasons:
1. So much pressure. I'd done the trialing, entered the one trial I really shouldn't have, and spent a lot of time training for the trial instead of training my dogs. I started questioning why I was doing this, whether my dogs were any good, etc, etc.
2. This translated to me being mean to my dogs. Fury can handle it, we'll get into that later, but Rippa shuts down when I shut her down. It's not fair and I knew it.
3. I was having really rough first trimester and it made me not want to do anything - my timing was off, I felt sick, and just . . .ehh. (Yes, I was pregnant - I say was because I lost it in the second trimester. That's kind of a bummer, but I am happy it happened to be honest - I was not ready emotionally or physically the way I wanted to be so this gives me a chance to get there.)
4. I was in a major work crunch - literally could not imagine taking the hour commute to cattle (two hour to ducks/sheep) and the hour of working while there.
5. I actually went on vacation for 2 weeks, so there's that, too.
The time off allowed me to chill. I'll talk about that later. I worked on my relationship with Rippa - from being more patient and kind to her, rewarding her for being nice and noticing it, to working on my expectations of her obedience. The results speak for themselves. Both dogs are way less cranky to each other than they can be, Rippa has been perky and happier than I've seen in a long while, and some long time behavior stuff (especially her dislike for dogs in her face) is going away. She's more confident. My job was to build her up and it helped.
Today we went back to Stephanie's. I had a new mindset. I was just going to go there, see what I had and work quietly and lovingly with both dogs and see where I was at.
I always start with Rippa at Stephanie's because we have to get sheep out of their pen that has a shed around it and we've worked long enough that it's old hat for her to do it. She pushes them out of the pen, at which point they shoot across the field and she has to gather them back while I sort the ones I don't want back in. I used to try to sort out of the pen, but I think Stephanie sorts differently than I learned at Kathy's and the leader sheep tend to hang back and I end up with the light and spazzy sheep out in the arena, so I go reverse and put them back in. I end sessions with chores, dumping the whethers. Then Fury gets to come out for more elementary training (a long time off, different issues, and etc makes us step back a bit in expectation) and then I have Fury put them in a holding pen for a final session with Rippa. Sometimes Fury gets another work, but both of them are fat and lazy from staying with my parents and I don't want her to tear her other knee from over use and lack of fitness.
Stephanie had some new lambs mixed in and two new, and large, whethers, who had obviously not been with the flock for long as they kind of worked on their own instead of staying with everyone. I wanted a bigger flock to start Rippa because she'd have more work and slow down a bit while we warmed up, and I wanted to leave these guys and the lambs alone, but had a hard time putting these guys in the pen. They were a touch lighter to me than to the dog, but since they didn't want to flock, they'd get too much pressure from me and Rippa and end up away from everyone else. I figured that would make Rippa have to watch them more and they were bigger so if we made mistakes, I'd handle it and so would they, so I gave up and kept them in my initial flock.
I've been gathering a lot of tools from new thoughts lately, but one thing I'm definitely going back to is the big stick. I got myself a new bean pole and had a much easier time getting Rippa to respect distance and my commands with a few reinforcements. I think the key is to read the situation and what you're trying to do when picking your tool. Right now I wanted to see so having the long stick there to reinforce me was good.
What I got out of the session:
What Rippa knows:
1. How to pick up sheep in either direction
2. How to balance herself, particularly if I am turned around and taking pressure off or clearly stopping
3. How to stay quiet in tight spaces
4. Her flank commands (go by and way to)
5. "Out" if I'm there to reinforce it
6. How to get runaway sheep by moving out more to go to head (yay! That's good stock sense!)
7. How to do long outruns to fetch sheep
8. To not bite (or to grip strategically on the heel) when in control
9. To take small steps and hold them in the face of stock challenging her
I'm really proud of this. All the years I worked the Fury, I couldn't get this. In fact, this calmness in tight spots is what I loved about how Rippa's dad worked. I definitely got what I wanted out of this litter. If only I could reinforce that "down" faster. I mean, I could, but . . . pick your battles.
What Rippa doesn't know:
1. To down on first command
2. To take flanks when I am not there to reinforce it
3. Zero idea what "there" means
4. Her rating commands (aka "easy" to slow down) - she'll slow down if I tell her "no" but not on command
5. "Out" unless I'm there to reinforce it when she feels out of control
6. How to handle sheep passing through fences (aka, they run, she panics)
7. How to do wide outruns (she comes in closer, but it works for her)
8. Not to bite and chase when she feels out of control
And whose fault is it that she doesn't know that stuff? MINE. And why did she quit me on cattle? Because all I did was force almost every one of these issues every time we trained. Goals for the future? Do a lot more of what she knows and work non what she doesn't know in baby steps. I don't think it will take a long time to fix these things (she had a "there", for example, and I don't really mind if she's tight on her outruns if it's effective and calm), so long as I do my part.
I then figured this out about the Fury:
What the Fury knows:
1. How to do long outruns to fetch sheep
2. How to do wide outruns (I think this is pretty natural to her)
3. Her way-to command
4. How to balance herself as long as she is pretty far off contact with the sheep
5. Her flank commands
6. "Walk-up" and "There" (but she doesn't know how to control the sheep on a drive)
7. Her rating commands
8. How to handle sheep passing through fences (we did a lot of work with this back in the day at Doug's when I got paid to work his dog)
(She totally blows off my flank command and takes a bit to "down" but she's being nice to the sheep and that's a good solid outrun. Pick your battles.)
What the Fury doesn't know:
1. How to down on first command (she did, but I think her psych gets the best of her)
2. That I can control my side of the sheep
3. Her flank commands if I am not there to reinforce it
4. Her go by command if I am between the sheep and the dog (she buzzes right by unless my timing is perfect, ignoring stick or anything - full panic)
5. Out
6. Not to body slam and chase when she's out of control (interestingly, she used to bite, but in her old age, she generally tries to use her body instead, which is calming for me)
7. How to stay quiet in tight places
Whose fault again? MINE. Some of this is from years of bad handling. Her go-by side is really bad and I know why.
The key now is to fix these things and learn from them. I have two very different dogs and it's a blessing to have to work it out with them. I definitely think the next pup will be a different story.
Talking about different dogs, I tried some Ben Means stuff on The Fury today. I put the sheep in the big chute at the end and had her go around them in the corners. If she got too edgy, I'd yank her on a leash and try again. It seems to work pretty well. She stayed latched onto the stock instead of me, and started to mind better. I don't want to over do it, but I kind of think she's exactly the kind of dog that needs this. For fun, I tried it with Rippa but she didn't need it and stayed calm in the corners. The attachment to the line also got her too interested in me. The Fury works less for me than Rippa does, and you wouldn't think that because Rippa's not crisp and responsive, but what I think matters a whole lot more to her than it does to her mother.
Rippa DOES need it on cattle, though. She gets so worked if she gets too tight and that's when it goes badly.
So that's where we're at today. I think my goal of getting the WTCh by the Fall might be a bit much now with the break, but Winter? Sure. I just have to make sure I get as many days in as I can and with as much positive and constructive work. I just read and article on WorkingAussieSource, "If you get 1% improvement every time you go out, you'll be 100% in 100 days." Let's do it. I feel confident I know what to do if I keep looking at what I have and what I'm doing wrong. I made a lot of mistakes early on in handling that led to bad habits (like chasing and biting out of control) and I STILL make mistakes (there's a reason Rippa doesn't do gate passages well . .. I don't prepare her or myself for what the sheep will do). But conscious attention to this will matter.
. . .
Okay, so I said I would ramble a bit, too, and I will.
Before the break, I was doing the thing I do where I ask "What's the point of all of this?" I know that I don't want to be the #1 trialing person in the world and I also know that I don't want a whole batch of dogs that I'd need to produce a solid line of dogs. Heck, breeding is stressful in and of itself. I've realized that I'm not the sort that wants to keep dogs in kennels, even if that means getting better performance out of them. I got into dogs as friends first and that's still my main thing. But over the course of the years, I've always says, "What's the truest thing to the dogs?" That's how I got out of showing in conformation and got into stockdogs. That's how I got into being more interested in the operations of cattle ranches than how to trial. Thing is, will I ever be a cattle woman? Will I need dogs for cows? If I get cows, it's going to be mostly for the dogs (I say mostly because I've ALWAYS wanted ranch life, before dogs, but I won't be doing dairy or special show cattle, get what I'm saying?)
Whenever I get to thinking like this, I'm tempted to quit. Not because I necessarily want to quit, but I have this thing that makes me go, "What's the end purpose here? Do you have one?"
I used to do a lot of art - but I gave it up in college in favor of social time and I didn't go back to it because I knew I wasn't going to practice enough to be in art shows and sell it and I also would prefer to be outdoors. Everything is this cost analysis to me - could I be enjoying myself or using that money wiser? If so, why am I still doing it?
Obviously, not everything has to have an end to the means. I LOVE computer games. I allow myself to play one (Civilization) because I love them so much that I'll lose days playing them - not sleeping, not eating . . . and it's not a good thing. But there's no end to that. Nobody is giving me a gold star for being good at a game I play by myself. In fact, my husband gives me negative stars because I could be doing something way more awesome. But it only costs me time - I don't get frustrated when I lose, it doesn't cost anything now that I have the game . . . and I spend a lot of it trying to problem solve to get better so I figure it's kind of good for me. Ahh, but there's the rub. It's kind of good for me.
Is stockdog stuff good for me? On the whole, probably not.
1. The pressure is enormous. Even away from other Aussie people, I feel myself having to defend myself and my dog for my breed choice, how she works, and if she's good enough. Sometimes it's not external, sometimes it's internal. But there's something in the culture that's ingrained in me that I can't just be like, "Hey, this is fun." It's always like, "This is of consequence." I think it's dog people. I don't ever really feel like that about my other hobbies ever. Bikes are fun! Climbing is fun! Hiking is fun! Even adventure racing - if you lose, hey, you are awesome! Nobody talks shit behind your back because of moves you made or didn't make or climbs you didn't send.
2. The community eats its own. Like I said about pressure, the dog club isn't exactly working hard on rewarding people's good intentions. A lot more negativity comes out of it. Going to social stuff like clinics, lessons, and trials can be hard because certain people like to comment a lot, whether they know what they're doing or not. I've been in dogs and this breed a good solid while and spent a lot of time learning, so you'd think when BS gets slung, it would bounce off, but the fact is . . . it sticks. I think about it. At a trial recently, I was picking The Fury up to get in the truck (she's always had a hard time getting in the back because she's short, and more so now that she's older) and this woman makes a comment about how I'm spoiling my dog again. I always spoiled her too much. Like, really? Did I ask your opinion? I LOVE Fury and my relationship. I think she's awesome. She thinks I'm awesome. I don't think she's spoiled at all. But here I am, months later, and it's still in my ears. And that's the most benign. I've been insulted in so many stupid ways - and it's simply not all that fun to hang around it - there's just too many people reinforcing each other to be like that, so I actively had tried to pull away as much as possible and pick my friends and circles wisely, while being as supportive as I can in the ways I wished I'd be supported.
3. It challenges a lot of my personality - and while it's good to be challenged and grow, we all have really ingrained tendencies that won't really go away. I'm a control freak. I'd do way better in obedience and agility and the dogs would probably like it because they'd be doing it for the cookies and praise and not because this thing inside of them tells them to do it. When I get nervous or lose control, I don't bite and chase, I run my mouth. That's bad for stockdogging especially because commands should be spare and reinforced. I was pretty damn good at showing dogs because yapping and precision weren't over the top every and the training required was minimal. I spent most of the time in the ring thinking, "My God, my dog looks SO good. How can the judge NOT think that?" and any psychotherapist will tell you that kind of positive self talk, especially if reinforced with that point as you go round the ring, is way better than the kind of negative work I do when I'm challenged in other dog stuff.
4. I can't just let my dog be a dog. People care a LOT about this stuff. They judge whether you're worthy to leave your mark and they tell you if you aren't. At the same time, I think it's silly. Especially when I read historical accounts of famous dogs and how low key everything used to be. But instead, I'm always like, "Hmm, how's my dog performing? Would I want another dog like this one? Where would I go elsewhere?" I work pretty hard at warning people off of getting so involved it ruins dog ownership for them in this way. I judge a lot and I'm very much into nonjudgement/nonattachment everywhere else.
So what's a girl to do? Take time off.
While I was taking time off, two things happened that kickstarted me again this round.
1. Kelly Hughes, a woman I very much respect for her training, attitude, and just overall awesome life balances, posted about her dog working at a trial as a sorting dog. In California, this seems to be uncool because a bad sort by a dog can upset the stock, but most other places it seems cool to do. I looked at her post and thought, "You know, that's what is missing here." At Kathy's, though I don't remember a lot of emphasis put on the "point" of doing it, Kathy would rotate you in during lessons as a sorting dog. The Fury would literally vibrate while she watched other dogs work, but she got a lot of chore/pen experience from putting sheep out and bringing them back, etc. It wasn't all trial training and that's the stuff that tells you if you've got a useful dog, I think. So like . . . Kristin, dial back on the trialing training and remember that Aussies need and excel at chores. All the finite stuff comes along much later. Also, this is another key reason why I need my own stock at some point.
2. I mentioned to Elizabeth Robinson about my doggy angst and she gave me some advice that made it all better. Instead of worrying about why things wouldn't work out how I wanted them or whatever, maybe realize that they'll work out however they're supposed to. If I don't want to breed a lot of dogs and I don't want to be the best trialler, there's still a place for me. Over time, I may take on client dogs and help other people learn to do this. If I get a farm and stock, it'll need to pay for itself some way and this is a good way. I'll be able to create my own community that doesn't eat its own (a specialty of mine). If I think about this period of life as a continued internship where I'm learning everything I need to to eventually mentor people of similar mind and greater need (who do want to work dogs on a ranch or in a trial), I'll be better off. That's my end I need. That's the part where it's like, "Why are you doing this?" Because I'm studying to understand this stuff. That's why.
So that's where I'm at.
I'm going to keep at it with my dogs and look forward to the time where I take on another one. I'm going to sit tight and take care of finances and look for a situation that works for my family that allows me to have my own stock close to home. And I'm going to spend an awful lot of time reading, asking questions, and talking to cattlemen who need/use dogs to understand what it is I'm working toward (while learning the economics and operations of cattle so that when it's time, I don't lose my shirt).
And I'll have fun doing it.
A couple reasons:
1. So much pressure. I'd done the trialing, entered the one trial I really shouldn't have, and spent a lot of time training for the trial instead of training my dogs. I started questioning why I was doing this, whether my dogs were any good, etc, etc.
2. This translated to me being mean to my dogs. Fury can handle it, we'll get into that later, but Rippa shuts down when I shut her down. It's not fair and I knew it.
3. I was having really rough first trimester and it made me not want to do anything - my timing was off, I felt sick, and just . . .ehh. (Yes, I was pregnant - I say was because I lost it in the second trimester. That's kind of a bummer, but I am happy it happened to be honest - I was not ready emotionally or physically the way I wanted to be so this gives me a chance to get there.)
4. I was in a major work crunch - literally could not imagine taking the hour commute to cattle (two hour to ducks/sheep) and the hour of working while there.
5. I actually went on vacation for 2 weeks, so there's that, too.
The time off allowed me to chill. I'll talk about that later. I worked on my relationship with Rippa - from being more patient and kind to her, rewarding her for being nice and noticing it, to working on my expectations of her obedience. The results speak for themselves. Both dogs are way less cranky to each other than they can be, Rippa has been perky and happier than I've seen in a long while, and some long time behavior stuff (especially her dislike for dogs in her face) is going away. She's more confident. My job was to build her up and it helped.
Steph's neighbors got goats - friendly goats. There's nothing The Fury likes more than giving goats a good time . . . but she didn't because I asked her not to.
I always start with Rippa at Stephanie's because we have to get sheep out of their pen that has a shed around it and we've worked long enough that it's old hat for her to do it. She pushes them out of the pen, at which point they shoot across the field and she has to gather them back while I sort the ones I don't want back in. I used to try to sort out of the pen, but I think Stephanie sorts differently than I learned at Kathy's and the leader sheep tend to hang back and I end up with the light and spazzy sheep out in the arena, so I go reverse and put them back in. I end sessions with chores, dumping the whethers. Then Fury gets to come out for more elementary training (a long time off, different issues, and etc makes us step back a bit in expectation) and then I have Fury put them in a holding pen for a final session with Rippa. Sometimes Fury gets another work, but both of them are fat and lazy from staying with my parents and I don't want her to tear her other knee from over use and lack of fitness.
Stephanie had some new lambs mixed in and two new, and large, whethers, who had obviously not been with the flock for long as they kind of worked on their own instead of staying with everyone. I wanted a bigger flock to start Rippa because she'd have more work and slow down a bit while we warmed up, and I wanted to leave these guys and the lambs alone, but had a hard time putting these guys in the pen. They were a touch lighter to me than to the dog, but since they didn't want to flock, they'd get too much pressure from me and Rippa and end up away from everyone else. I figured that would make Rippa have to watch them more and they were bigger so if we made mistakes, I'd handle it and so would they, so I gave up and kept them in my initial flock.
I've been gathering a lot of tools from new thoughts lately, but one thing I'm definitely going back to is the big stick. I got myself a new bean pole and had a much easier time getting Rippa to respect distance and my commands with a few reinforcements. I think the key is to read the situation and what you're trying to do when picking your tool. Right now I wanted to see so having the long stick there to reinforce me was good.
What I got out of the session:
What Rippa knows:
1. How to pick up sheep in either direction
2. How to balance herself, particularly if I am turned around and taking pressure off or clearly stopping
3. How to stay quiet in tight spaces
4. Her flank commands (go by and way to)
5. "Out" if I'm there to reinforce it
6. How to get runaway sheep by moving out more to go to head (yay! That's good stock sense!)
7. How to do long outruns to fetch sheep
8. To not bite (or to grip strategically on the heel) when in control
9. To take small steps and hold them in the face of stock challenging her
I'm really proud of this. All the years I worked the Fury, I couldn't get this. In fact, this calmness in tight spots is what I loved about how Rippa's dad worked. I definitely got what I wanted out of this litter. If only I could reinforce that "down" faster. I mean, I could, but . . . pick your battles.
What Rippa doesn't know:
1. To down on first command
2. To take flanks when I am not there to reinforce it
3. Zero idea what "there" means
4. Her rating commands (aka "easy" to slow down) - she'll slow down if I tell her "no" but not on command
5. "Out" unless I'm there to reinforce it when she feels out of control
6. How to handle sheep passing through fences (aka, they run, she panics)
7. How to do wide outruns (she comes in closer, but it works for her)
8. Not to bite and chase when she feels out of control
And whose fault is it that she doesn't know that stuff? MINE. And why did she quit me on cattle? Because all I did was force almost every one of these issues every time we trained. Goals for the future? Do a lot more of what she knows and work non what she doesn't know in baby steps. I don't think it will take a long time to fix these things (she had a "there", for example, and I don't really mind if she's tight on her outruns if it's effective and calm), so long as I do my part.
I then figured this out about the Fury:
What the Fury knows:
1. How to do long outruns to fetch sheep
2. How to do wide outruns (I think this is pretty natural to her)
3. Her way-to command
4. How to balance herself as long as she is pretty far off contact with the sheep
5. Her flank commands
6. "Walk-up" and "There" (but she doesn't know how to control the sheep on a drive)
7. Her rating commands
8. How to handle sheep passing through fences (we did a lot of work with this back in the day at Doug's when I got paid to work his dog)
(She totally blows off my flank command and takes a bit to "down" but she's being nice to the sheep and that's a good solid outrun. Pick your battles.)
What the Fury doesn't know:
1. How to down on first command (she did, but I think her psych gets the best of her)
2. That I can control my side of the sheep
3. Her flank commands if I am not there to reinforce it
4. Her go by command if I am between the sheep and the dog (she buzzes right by unless my timing is perfect, ignoring stick or anything - full panic)
5. Out
6. Not to body slam and chase when she's out of control (interestingly, she used to bite, but in her old age, she generally tries to use her body instead, which is calming for me)
7. How to stay quiet in tight places
Whose fault again? MINE. Some of this is from years of bad handling. Her go-by side is really bad and I know why.
The key now is to fix these things and learn from them. I have two very different dogs and it's a blessing to have to work it out with them. I definitely think the next pup will be a different story.
Talking about different dogs, I tried some Ben Means stuff on The Fury today. I put the sheep in the big chute at the end and had her go around them in the corners. If she got too edgy, I'd yank her on a leash and try again. It seems to work pretty well. She stayed latched onto the stock instead of me, and started to mind better. I don't want to over do it, but I kind of think she's exactly the kind of dog that needs this. For fun, I tried it with Rippa but she didn't need it and stayed calm in the corners. The attachment to the line also got her too interested in me. The Fury works less for me than Rippa does, and you wouldn't think that because Rippa's not crisp and responsive, but what I think matters a whole lot more to her than it does to her mother.
Rippa DOES need it on cattle, though. She gets so worked if she gets too tight and that's when it goes badly.
So that's where we're at today. I think my goal of getting the WTCh by the Fall might be a bit much now with the break, but Winter? Sure. I just have to make sure I get as many days in as I can and with as much positive and constructive work. I just read and article on WorkingAussieSource, "If you get 1% improvement every time you go out, you'll be 100% in 100 days." Let's do it. I feel confident I know what to do if I keep looking at what I have and what I'm doing wrong. I made a lot of mistakes early on in handling that led to bad habits (like chasing and biting out of control) and I STILL make mistakes (there's a reason Rippa doesn't do gate passages well . .. I don't prepare her or myself for what the sheep will do). But conscious attention to this will matter.
. . .
Okay, so I said I would ramble a bit, too, and I will.
Before the break, I was doing the thing I do where I ask "What's the point of all of this?" I know that I don't want to be the #1 trialing person in the world and I also know that I don't want a whole batch of dogs that I'd need to produce a solid line of dogs. Heck, breeding is stressful in and of itself. I've realized that I'm not the sort that wants to keep dogs in kennels, even if that means getting better performance out of them. I got into dogs as friends first and that's still my main thing. But over the course of the years, I've always says, "What's the truest thing to the dogs?" That's how I got out of showing in conformation and got into stockdogs. That's how I got into being more interested in the operations of cattle ranches than how to trial. Thing is, will I ever be a cattle woman? Will I need dogs for cows? If I get cows, it's going to be mostly for the dogs (I say mostly because I've ALWAYS wanted ranch life, before dogs, but I won't be doing dairy or special show cattle, get what I'm saying?)
Whenever I get to thinking like this, I'm tempted to quit. Not because I necessarily want to quit, but I have this thing that makes me go, "What's the end purpose here? Do you have one?"
I used to do a lot of art - but I gave it up in college in favor of social time and I didn't go back to it because I knew I wasn't going to practice enough to be in art shows and sell it and I also would prefer to be outdoors. Everything is this cost analysis to me - could I be enjoying myself or using that money wiser? If so, why am I still doing it?
Obviously, not everything has to have an end to the means. I LOVE computer games. I allow myself to play one (Civilization) because I love them so much that I'll lose days playing them - not sleeping, not eating . . . and it's not a good thing. But there's no end to that. Nobody is giving me a gold star for being good at a game I play by myself. In fact, my husband gives me negative stars because I could be doing something way more awesome. But it only costs me time - I don't get frustrated when I lose, it doesn't cost anything now that I have the game . . . and I spend a lot of it trying to problem solve to get better so I figure it's kind of good for me. Ahh, but there's the rub. It's kind of good for me.
Is stockdog stuff good for me? On the whole, probably not.
1. The pressure is enormous. Even away from other Aussie people, I feel myself having to defend myself and my dog for my breed choice, how she works, and if she's good enough. Sometimes it's not external, sometimes it's internal. But there's something in the culture that's ingrained in me that I can't just be like, "Hey, this is fun." It's always like, "This is of consequence." I think it's dog people. I don't ever really feel like that about my other hobbies ever. Bikes are fun! Climbing is fun! Hiking is fun! Even adventure racing - if you lose, hey, you are awesome! Nobody talks shit behind your back because of moves you made or didn't make or climbs you didn't send.
2. The community eats its own. Like I said about pressure, the dog club isn't exactly working hard on rewarding people's good intentions. A lot more negativity comes out of it. Going to social stuff like clinics, lessons, and trials can be hard because certain people like to comment a lot, whether they know what they're doing or not. I've been in dogs and this breed a good solid while and spent a lot of time learning, so you'd think when BS gets slung, it would bounce off, but the fact is . . . it sticks. I think about it. At a trial recently, I was picking The Fury up to get in the truck (she's always had a hard time getting in the back because she's short, and more so now that she's older) and this woman makes a comment about how I'm spoiling my dog again. I always spoiled her too much. Like, really? Did I ask your opinion? I LOVE Fury and my relationship. I think she's awesome. She thinks I'm awesome. I don't think she's spoiled at all. But here I am, months later, and it's still in my ears. And that's the most benign. I've been insulted in so many stupid ways - and it's simply not all that fun to hang around it - there's just too many people reinforcing each other to be like that, so I actively had tried to pull away as much as possible and pick my friends and circles wisely, while being as supportive as I can in the ways I wished I'd be supported.
3. It challenges a lot of my personality - and while it's good to be challenged and grow, we all have really ingrained tendencies that won't really go away. I'm a control freak. I'd do way better in obedience and agility and the dogs would probably like it because they'd be doing it for the cookies and praise and not because this thing inside of them tells them to do it. When I get nervous or lose control, I don't bite and chase, I run my mouth. That's bad for stockdogging especially because commands should be spare and reinforced. I was pretty damn good at showing dogs because yapping and precision weren't over the top every and the training required was minimal. I spent most of the time in the ring thinking, "My God, my dog looks SO good. How can the judge NOT think that?" and any psychotherapist will tell you that kind of positive self talk, especially if reinforced with that point as you go round the ring, is way better than the kind of negative work I do when I'm challenged in other dog stuff.
4. I can't just let my dog be a dog. People care a LOT about this stuff. They judge whether you're worthy to leave your mark and they tell you if you aren't. At the same time, I think it's silly. Especially when I read historical accounts of famous dogs and how low key everything used to be. But instead, I'm always like, "Hmm, how's my dog performing? Would I want another dog like this one? Where would I go elsewhere?" I work pretty hard at warning people off of getting so involved it ruins dog ownership for them in this way. I judge a lot and I'm very much into nonjudgement/nonattachment everywhere else.
So what's a girl to do? Take time off.
While I was taking time off, two things happened that kickstarted me again this round.
1. Kelly Hughes, a woman I very much respect for her training, attitude, and just overall awesome life balances, posted about her dog working at a trial as a sorting dog. In California, this seems to be uncool because a bad sort by a dog can upset the stock, but most other places it seems cool to do. I looked at her post and thought, "You know, that's what is missing here." At Kathy's, though I don't remember a lot of emphasis put on the "point" of doing it, Kathy would rotate you in during lessons as a sorting dog. The Fury would literally vibrate while she watched other dogs work, but she got a lot of chore/pen experience from putting sheep out and bringing them back, etc. It wasn't all trial training and that's the stuff that tells you if you've got a useful dog, I think. So like . . . Kristin, dial back on the trialing training and remember that Aussies need and excel at chores. All the finite stuff comes along much later. Also, this is another key reason why I need my own stock at some point.
2. I mentioned to Elizabeth Robinson about my doggy angst and she gave me some advice that made it all better. Instead of worrying about why things wouldn't work out how I wanted them or whatever, maybe realize that they'll work out however they're supposed to. If I don't want to breed a lot of dogs and I don't want to be the best trialler, there's still a place for me. Over time, I may take on client dogs and help other people learn to do this. If I get a farm and stock, it'll need to pay for itself some way and this is a good way. I'll be able to create my own community that doesn't eat its own (a specialty of mine). If I think about this period of life as a continued internship where I'm learning everything I need to to eventually mentor people of similar mind and greater need (who do want to work dogs on a ranch or in a trial), I'll be better off. That's my end I need. That's the part where it's like, "Why are you doing this?" Because I'm studying to understand this stuff. That's why.
So that's where I'm at.
I'm going to keep at it with my dogs and look forward to the time where I take on another one. I'm going to sit tight and take care of finances and look for a situation that works for my family that allows me to have my own stock close to home. And I'm going to spend an awful lot of time reading, asking questions, and talking to cattlemen who need/use dogs to understand what it is I'm working toward (while learning the economics and operations of cattle so that when it's time, I don't lose my shirt).
And I'll have fun doing it.
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