Head bobbles and border collies

I posted yesterday about my getting stuck with Rippa quitting me and it being because I am running the cows off and wanting to try the border collies so I stop trying to “Train” Rippa and just work on my handling.

It worked.

Shannon gave me Cat to work – her finished trialing dog. Right away my expectations were different than I expected: I figured Cat would do a lot of the work herself and automatically just fetch them to me wherever I went, but nope.

1. Cat is loyal. She had a hard time taking commands from me until she decided I was cool (I mean, she likes me, but not like as a working partner). I figured that was a defining feature of BCs – they work for anybody.

2. Aussie people always say that BCs work for themselves, but Cat was really mechanical with me. She didn’t want to do anything I didn’t ask her to do and when she wasn’t sure, she’d find a spot to hold them and wait.

I just didn’t expect that.

She’s a slow working dog with a lot of eye, and while I was expecting to have to do more handling while she held her end of the deal, this was more than perfect for me. I saw right away where normally I’d walk a fenceline ahead of the dog, it wasn’t going to go with these cows, I’d need a parallel drive.

At one point, Catty was fetching them to me and this one cow on the left would pop out a bit, and Catty would look at it, and it would pop back in, but MY pressure would pop it back out. It was slow and super subtle but I GOT it.

So, once we did a few rounds of that, I put Rippa out there and sure enough, got way more out of her than I have in a while. We were doing fancy obstacles and penning like champions and I went from feeling like I had a long way to go to be ready to trial again to being like, “Nah, we got this.”

Why?

Shannon said that I started the lesson with more authority than usual (maybe the confidence of my end of the cattle was that) and that I might just have to be laying down the law more because Rippa responds to it and it will probably make her crsiper.

That and at no point did Rippa feel like she was losing control of the cattle. Her drive was really quiet and thinky as long as I held my end of it with a parallel drive and helped her out with some commands to let her know what I wanted. Shannon said that one way to help her would be to have her “lose them” in my direction if at all possible because then I’d have it covered. But that’s the key, I have to have it covered.

Lots of nice things today – she kept herself calm and worked her stock, she lost one and got it without overly fixating on trying to yahoo it, and she pulled her punches and stayed back, watching stragglers, instead of running to head to hit something.

It was kinda awesome. I care a little too much about all this stuff, I know, but when it goes, it goes and I am proud of the little brown dog today. And me. I’m going to keep handling other dogs to feel those cows and those dogs and it will help Rippy bear out.

Pre-Trial #2

Stephanie’s gang watching a lesson.

Well, big trial #2 is coming up. I’ve been thinking about why I don’t like trialing and why it was such a surprise to go from training to trialing and I have to admit that I’ve approached things differently before.  When I started showing in conformation, I felt honored to be there and I didn’t expect to win, so I took what I did there and practiced and practiced and loved it for the sake of the practice.

When I got my second dog, I knew no practicing would help so I stopped.

Then I got The Fury, who was admittedly insanely easy to both train and trial. Her performance doesn’t change based on the environment. Obedience, agility, stock, all very consistent and totally not dependent on me or anything else. I went to agility incredibly surprised by this and we had a great time. I quit doing agility after a while because I’d rather be doing other stuff, not because I couldn’t handle the stress. Obedience is the same way, if there were trials closer, I’d probably have her UD by now because I like training and she trials well.

But stock is something else. Stock means something more to me than any of the other stuff. I guess I’m not looking to prove anything with the other venues. They were fun, my dogs were fun. But stock has depth to it the others don’t. How good is your dog? Is it worthy of serving a legitimate job? Will other people want dogs like yours?

When I showed up with The Fury, I knew nothing about the politics, the lines, none of it. Overtime, it’s become heavily steeped in opinion and validation needs and I’m hyper-conscious of it. I used to think agility was free of it, but it’s not. I hear the same sniping there these days. Conformation certainly has it. I suspect obedience is too small to have it.

Anyway, so that’s why I’ve been so surprised about trialing being a whole new element. Like, Kristin, duh, of COURSE you have to practice trialing to get good. You had to practice everywhere else (Fury doesn’t have her CD, after all, because YOU did stuff that DQd you). I guess the difference is that I was practicing TO trial. With stock, I’m doing something else. I’m trying to master the actual craft. It’s not about sending a dog over an obstacle, it’s about raising a dog holistically to use its instincts to move another bunch of animals and help you. I forgot about trialing.

And, unlike the Fury, Rippa is extremely influenced by situational changes. When I was taking lessons with her for agility, she was doing great. Q’d every time I trialed her at a preshow at Nationals. But then I didn’t take lessons any more and just trained in my back yard and went up to Eileen’s to rent her agility field and . . . UTTER DISASTER. Rippa was like, “There’s people and dogs and a judge and this is so much pressure.” (Rippa is very, very sensitive to pressure.) I quit trialing her in agility because I had my fun with The Fury, but I want all my eggs in the stockdog basket.

So, when we went from the back arena with the obstacles back to the front field that’s open to work cows last week, Rippa lost her head at first. It was new, she felt out of control. Shannon and I were like, “Woah!” Shannon said, “Well, you and I both know she can just gather cattle at that distance, but obviously the change in location made her back up a bit. Better babysit her at the trial!” By the end of the session, she was in control again, but you don’t start out nice, you don’t have time for an hour later.

So, this week, I babysat Rippa through everything and she did mostly great. For whatever reason, she’s shutting down on sheep and just doesn’t want to do it. This generally seems to happen when she’s confused, but I think it’s something else. She’s been kind of sick from something and grumpy, so maybe that’s it? But the shut down is at a level that’s useful. Stephanie watched her and was like, “That kind of shut down is going to make you win.” Aka, she’s not putting a ton of work into what she’s doing and she’s quiet, and that’s all you need most of the time at a trial anyway. THe dogs I’ve put titles on were like that, so I get it. I got a ranch title on a dog who just followed sheep and sat when I told him to sit. Soooooo . . . so long as she works a bit, I’m happy.

I was worried to take her to ducks after because if she’s shut down on sheep, it can’t be much better for ducks, but au contraire, she was awesome.

Cattle today was pretty awesome, too. I did two short sessions so she felt good, though she definitely seemed to be wary about me sending her go-by . . . I think she’s confused. But a confused dog is a thinking dog and that’s cool. She didn’t do any unnecessary roughness, and man, one time she hit a head and followed it up with a heel to make her point and . . . what a balanced little dog! She doesn’t do it if she doesn’t have to, but no complaints here.

I’m going out tomorrow for sheep and ducks again, and then bright and early Saturday we make the drive to Riverdale. It should be a small trial – they still have spots open (so I decided to add The Fury for ducks and was tempted to do sheep, but I haven’t put her back on them since surgery, so probably not  a good time to), and Shannon and Dustin will be joining me Sunday and doing two pups on cattle. Dustin wanted to do everything, but their dogs are tough and they don’t work on making them not tough, so they decided it was probably better to not risk the DQ if they bite.

Feeling good. I have an understanding of why I didn’t Q last time, and why handling when bad, and Rippa and I both have a lot more control going on than we did because I’m letting her handle her business. As a result, she’s listening to me more, and we’re happy.

We’ve got four trials total so if all goes REALLY good, we Q on the first two and get those started titles. I’ll probably bump her to open if that happens and give it a whirl because she should be good to go there. I’m treating the first day like a lesson warm-up, though. Obviously, I bring a major headcase to the thing and like I said, Rippa’s not in a great mental spot right now, either. Hope it clears up. She seems fine other than grumping and loosish stools.

See you on the flipside!

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.

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.

My first NCA trial–and not my last

I don’t really like trials very much of any sort, or pretty much any day that involves sitting around waiting for my chance to go or do something. I go to them because it’s time and because I need to look for dogs I like. Otherwise, I’d be doing something else. I like to be busy.

This weekend’s trial definitely kept me busy. When I got invited to go by the Woods, I of course leapt at it. I imagined I’d probably pay my dues, potty their dogs, wrangle their delightful boy, and learn some things. Instead, they asked me if I wanted to time and I said sure.

Well, in a time trial, that makes me the judge. Woah! In ASCA, you have to go through a fair amount to qualify to be  one. Put championships on your working dogs, have a solid background in livestock management, etc. Then you go through a review and training period and then you’re able to judge. Of course, the judges also are looking for something other than points and time: they’re looking for how the dog gets it done. In these trials, it doesn’t matter. It’s just points, with ties broken by time.

A couple things about NCA (National Cattledog Association) Trials: they’re horseback, you have to have western gear (I guess I better get a new hat, my straw one has seen better days), and the divisions are interesting.

Open – this is the pro category: if you give lessons or train dogs for money, you go in here. You’d think it would be the most competitive category, but I didn’t think it was in the end. Just because you’re a pro doesn’t mean you have the best dog or handling ability.

Intermediate – I think this is if you’ve won too many Rancher classes and have to be somewhere. I’ll eventually get here. And, since people like me get here, it gets competitive. I was shocked to see how well these dog and handler pairs did after watching Open. But, you have a broader pool to pull from.

Nursery – for dogs under 3. Again, you’d think this would be a beginner class, but it really wasn’t. Some dogs were in one of the other two classes and ALSO in this one. Some of the best dogs out there were under 18 months! I couldn’t believe it. Aussies seem to mature slowly compared to the BCs, because these dogs had confident swagger that I’ve never seen in an Aussie at that age to date.

Rancher – it’s kind of a misnomer. This is where I’ll start. It’s the beginner class, but again, not really. The ranchers were mostly actual ranchers and their dogs were awesome.

Bottom line – this is a whole other thing and I love it.

I LOVED their attitude of, “Hey, we give you this job, you seem capable, do it.” I feel like that has never been the MO of the Australian Shepherd world. I wasn’t just doing the timing/scoring with the help of new friends, I was doing the announcing (yay for Toastmasters and being an Emcee at events when needed) and people went out of their way to tell me how much they appreciated my efforts. I loved how they had cards signed in thank you to the people who put the trial on and the sponsors that gave the prizes. Cowboy chivalry is alive and well, friends. Heck, had the environment been the same when I was back in school in the ag program, I might have stayed. I feel like I came out of the weekend with many new, sincere friends. And that I’m now a part of something really organic and cool. In school, I was in the ag dorm in an ag program and I never wanted to look the part. I didn’t want to be a part of it to begin with. I only recently bought a pair of boots to work and ride in. Here, I didn’t care if I didn’t look the part and neither did they. It was just people giving mutual respect and appreciation of people. A really rare thing for any gathering you go to. Beautiful.

So, anyway . . . I put a lot of thoughts together watching these dogs this weekend that I think are fairly interesting if they’re not already obvious:

• I’ve been thinking this for a while, but this weekend proved it: if your dog has mostly all the tools in its head, stockdog training is really about mileage. That’s it. If you work a lot on sheep, your dog will confidently handle sheep. If you work a lot on ducks, same. And same with cattle. People have been telling me for years that Aussies at National Finals just don’t have grip and power. I think they probably don’t because most of the finals dogs aren’t regularly working cattle – and new cattle. Aussies have a reputation for being barky and bouncy and out of control and from what I saw this weekend, it looks a lot more like the dog just is intimidated by the cattle and doesn’t know what to do. Rippa was like that and she’s settling now. Miles on cattle can make a cowdog.

• Miles make the dog make sense. Rippa tends to freak out and go for a body shot. I always worry about that because it’s pointless and stupid, but I was sitting with a  lifelong cowboy who has produced some very nice dogs, and he said, “Ehh, that’ll go away when the confidence comes.” I agree, because see above.
• Cowdogs need bite and lots of it. Terry Martin is always saying that the ASCA stockdog program is weakening cattle dogs because of the sheep/duck requirements to championship. This is because dogs can’t bite those stock, and since it’s 2/3 of the whole point, you end up with dogs who don’t grip cattle first. It’s been really frustrating to me with Fury and now Rippa that they both are a lot more chompy than most dogs I see and it makes trialing harder. It says a LOT that Fury got her started cattle title and doesn’t have ducks and sheep. I saw a LOT of gripping (and took a LOT of photos of it) over the weekend. These dogs had it in spades and even when it got a little wild, everyone was fine with it.  I had a chance to talk to a cowboy helping me out in the box and we got to talking about it. I said I’d seen all these videos of dogs ganging cattle and it seemed like a mess. He agreed. So I said, why all the bite? I mean, people cross breed border collies with pitbulls. He pulls back a bit and says, “You need to.” And he basically says that all these dogs out here need that kind of tenacity or they won’t last in a cattle operation. Day in and day out getting beat up, they need to have the edge to keep doing it for years. That’s why people do the pitbull breedings. Of course, he says, you never know what you’ll get, maybe you’ll lose some things when you do that, too. This, combined with what I saw, made me sad that I was not in a better position to do what I do now with The Fury. She would have been awesome. I specifically bred Rippa to take the edge off a bit, and she is a lot more thoughtful, but she’s missing the balls-out bit that would make her last years in and years out working hard stock.  At least, theoretically.
• Buying and selling dogs. My friend told me that he used to train crossbreds and sell them at auction but then he figured that purebred dogs with papers made more money, so that’s what he’s doing now. I figured the market would bear whatever the best dog was. Au contraire. Lines matter even in the working cattle dog world.
• Puppies in ranch homes. He also said that if you had a rancher that had never had a dog before, you’d better place a finished dog with him or make sure you give him some lessons. Otherwise, he’s not going to know how to use the dog and he’ll tell his friends your dog is a piece of crap and that’s how your reputation goes badly. But, once a rancher has a finished dog, he’ll know how to use the next one and start it as a pup. This is a good reason why a lot of Aussies aren’t in working ranches anymore: people don’t start and sell started/finished Aussies. I know Norm Andrews wanted to do that, but too bad he isn’t here to talk to anymore.

Shannon asked me after it was all over if I felt ready for the next one. I told her not yet – my dog doesn’t mind well enough and she’s got to get some more confidence before we go in. There’s a trial Easter Weekend I might be ready for if I get enough mileage in. There’s a lot riding on me representing Aussies well if I’m going to do this – I’m conscious of the prejudice and, honestly, if the Aussie has no place on the ranch any more, there’s definitely no point in breeding working ones with reserved attitude, bite, etc when there’s plenty of lovely family pets and trial dogs for people to pick from. There’s also plenty of people trying to get me to switch to BCs next time (and at this point I know what I’d get if I did), but I’m more than ever encouraged to go as far as I can with Rippa and start with a new generation to see where it takes me. Keep learning, keep looking, the world just keeps getting richer and richer.

A Little Update and an Interlude

So . . . almost accidentally, we bought a house by the sea and moved in. It is a fixer upper, and being people who don’t rest on our laurels, that’s pretty much all we’ve been doing with it since we took possession of it. The very first day I put plants in the ground because the previous owner never did. Then there was scraping and painting and reinstalling. We’re still working on the inside and will be for a few months, I think. And then there’s the backyard.

Oh, and my husband and I decided to open up a second location for our non profit climbing gym, in the midst of the busiest season for our for-profit event business.

What I’m trying to say is I haven’t been working dogs that much.

Aww, but she’s a time suck. I never expected that to be the case because I’ve been taking care of rentals like they’re my own forever. But now I can’t blame the landlord for it looking bad. It’s a compulsion. It must be fixed up. Much more to come in the front yard, but this is it for now.

Anyhow, that’s not to say I haven’t been working. I’ve gotten out a handful of times since then. And probably for good, too.

Remember my problem with Rippa and the ducks? Still no good. She won’t even do chores now. She’ll give it one half-hearted go and it’s over. The ducks still move off her so I can grab her and move them but she will just come over, suck up, and ask to do anything but that. Unless I let her go crazy on them. So, Rippa is on duck-time-out.

She was showing hints of doing this with sheep, too, at Stephanie’s place. But not at the Woods’.

I was so upset about it that I ended up deciding to go on a heritage search and contact anyone I knew that had her bloodlines too and figure it out. Tracey, of C-Me, reminded me that Fury’s mother (Rippa’s grandmother) didn’t like ducks, either. I started talking to more people about dogs just plain not interested in working ducks and sometimes sheep and wanting to give up, and it seemed to be coming from Spike. But then, someone didn’t have Spike, but they had Judd’s Chickasaw Dan.

And, lo and behold, I suddenly am on the phone with Joey Judd – which was pretty exciting. He talked to me for a solid hour about people, about dogs, about all of it. What I realized from that conversation is that Rippa is working exactly how you’d expect for me linebreeding on Dan. She’s got serious power with the cattle, and she’s getting frustrated on sheep and ducks as Joey mentioned his dogs were wont to do.

So, check it out, what happened? It’s probably that I’ve been working way more interesting stock at the Woods: goats and cattle, and she’s like, “Eff this other stuff.” She does work sheep fine at the Woods, so I’m wondering if there’s something about Stephanie’s sheep or the stuff I do there because it’s so much bigger of a space. I guess we’ll see!

And should I get upset about the fact that Rippa’s not amped on the little beasties? No. I wanted to breed cattle dogs. I got a cattle dog. If I keep wanting to breed for cattle dogs, she’s awesome. She’ll still work my chickens happily, too, but she’s getting a massive break from the ducks.

Actually, last time I was out there, she got to do nothing but cry as the Fury did her thing, and another guest was out working, too. I met this guy Roland and his red border collie at Stephanie’s. He trials ASCA and needed ducks to warm up on, and I said sure. Well, he comes out and his dog is great. He’s all apologetic about how she’s too hard on them, but man, my dogs are way harder (of course, they’re at the started level and his bitch is trying to finish a WTCh). It’s all about perspective.

I was supposed to trial with the Woods this fall but we’ve not put enough time in (and now I have no time with work and house), so they are off killing it on the cattle circuits in California and Oregon right now.

I posted to the California ASCA trial and show list about upcoming trials and so now it’s time to sort through them and pick one or two and just suck it up and go. I’m terrified we’ll do badly, but I guess I have to get over it. We’ll be fine. Let my dog work and me just concentration on the job and get ‘er done.

When I know my dates, I’ll post them here so there’s no backing out (unless I don’t get in).

Until next time . . .

Mileage is definitely key–and coming into heat is a problem

Last week, Rippa was super flirty with the Woods’ dogs and sure enough, she’s coming into heat. Not standing or anything, just flirty . . . I hadn’t thought much about it until Dustin asked me last night about how I felt I was doing and what my goals were.

I told her about the ram incident and how I was pleased with her, but maybe her confidence was bad. The last work I had on ducks and sheep before going there, she was a mess. She stopped wanting to take flank and Way To suddenly meant WAY AWAY OVER THERE. She was doing great on sheep and our driving was going well, but then her mind just seems to drift.

I mentioned she was in heat.

“Well, that could be some of it?” It’s true –I forget. Cranky pets and cramps can affect it all.

So yesterday we did some exercises. Dustin had me work on getting her outrun cleaner and just thinking and slowing down. He also put a big emphasis on me working on my own stockmanship. I did a couple send outs, but then I had to make Rippa stay while I moved the cattle. They aren’t as light to me so it was a lot harder. Then he had me do some obstacle work – get them around trees or hold them. You’ll see me trying here, but Rippa’s not precise enough (or I am not timing it early enough) to get them to settle right where they need to. He says it shows me holes in training, and it did.

Something I’m noticing from watching these videos (there are a lot of them, you’re just getting parts that illustrate a thought) is that Rippa is doing a lot better than I think she is.

I told him that I thought she was lacking confidence. She seems slow and not engaged to me. This, ha ha, is what Rippa thinking and working seriously looks like. I don’t see the Woods dogs working like that (they’re typically fast moving and responding) and Fury doesn’t work like that (I broke her, plus she’s just a lot more intense naturally), so it’s hard to watch Rippa go about things slowly and not in a “snappy” way and think she’s working. But watching it third person like this – uh, yeah, she is. She isn’t even that slow to respond. It just feels like it handling.

So here I am trying to get Rippa to get the cattle in the area between the two feed buckets up by the camera. It’s not super smooth because I’ve got to put some training on her where she doesn’t take things.

There’s parts in this video where I think she’s blowing off a flank, and she’s not. It just doesn’t look wide enough from my perspective. At the very beginning, I lie her down and she takes a step to turn and face the cattle – staying in contact with them – which in hindsight looks like good instinct against my bad instinct. I need to command her earlier so she can do things like that and stay in control if I’m going to obedience the commands out of her.

I haven’t been using obstacles in training much because I’m working on commands and instinct, but he added some goals and it did indeed show me things to work on for both of us.

Today we went to ducks and sheep and Rippa did a perfect started B course with me.  That’s all I asked for today and that’s what we got. Fury did a decent one, but the ducks were hot (I used the whole flock, which is currently down to 7 since one died mysteriously, two wouldn’t work so I sold them, and one is in my backyard with pins in her leg). I had them hang out in the kiddy pool for a bit and started over: golden success.

Went over to Stephanies and did sheep with Rippa – sorting is a real challenge these days, so that was good. Rippa had a hard time keeping them all together for sorting, but we got it done, and then practiced driving again – going really well. I’m not sure what changed but I think both of us are getting it (and off the fence, too).

Fury had to sit out sheep this time because someone else came to rent and I was in the middle of business calls so figured it was a good time to bounce.

Really happy with how things are coming together and really, really glad I video taped the works so I could see where I needed to fix things.

And now: your moment of happy family zen.

Tougher Cows; Better Handling

I need to write this one as soon as I can so I don’t forget. I feel like today’s lesson was invaluable. And it has a lot to do with my ego.

Shannon warned me that this new batch of cows, they’ve traded out since the others were getting too soft, were difficult and they were used to getting gang-worked old-school (aka, a lot of dogs on cows, not a lot of control) so dogs really have to have some power to get the work done. Then she pulls out her little Zeda and they look pretty good to me.

My turn.

Rippa’s still green so lacking confidence on outruns, so what’s she do? New cows? Outrun and FLY BY. OUTRUN AND FLY BY. My handling falls apart because unlike their other cows, my presence means a lot and I’m trying to stay out of Rippa’s way. She’s working up close and picking fights with this one cow – and that one cow, when not occupied with Rippa is pushing on another cow – literally picking its hind up with its horns and basically bullying it. I have no idea what that’s about.

We take a break. I watch her work Ruby – who works a lot wider and gets a lot more done.

I get it.

These are the kind of cows that people talk about that need a dog to back up their bark because they’ll run right over a dog. But they work pretty good if the dog stays off them. They work off people, too.

We have a conversation about what I saw – and Shannon teaches me something about cows I didn’t know. Dominant cows really make a difference during your work. This one Holstein is top-banana and it is hating on this other black cow. Anytime they get close, the Holstein pushes it out, aggressively if need be. That’s what was going on there. She says that in a herd, the dominant cattle will push the weaker ones out to the flanks, like, “YOU, YOU get eaten. Not me.” It’s a dynamic I’ve not really seen before (or didn’t know to see), and it makes a difference.

My next work is a lot better because now I’m seeing what’s happening – this Holstein keeps breaking up the group because the black cow gets close to him. Rippa pushes the black cow in, Holstein pushes it out. It’s work. You’re not totally working a herd, you’re working individual cows and dealing with their problems. Why? Because one little dog isn’t enough to worry about if you’re used to a bunch of them.

I watch Shannon work Trent, and he is such a nice dog. Now knowing what I know about the dynamics, I’m seeing how he handles them. Trent has POWER. He also has BITE. He will grab on and hang on as long as it takes. But he’s also really reading his cows – staying off when he needs to, watching the head, watching it go in, letting it go, moving on. At first I’m thinking “Well, yeah, he works wide and they like that,” but after she stops putting commands on him, he moves in close. And he takes his positioning immediately. This is what having a total dog is about. This is what I want, ultimately. She tells me it took a lot of work to get him to work wide. I feel better  - because it’s taking a lot of work to get it on Rippa. She’s taking it . . . but started dog taking it, not perfect yet.

She send me in alone with the cows and starts directing me. Just me, no dog.

This is invaluable. She has me do the “hook the eye” think that Curt Pate was talking about where you go toward the side that you want them to turn and they look back at you and that turns them that way, rather than pushing them away.  She has me find the balance point.

Here’s the thing: it’s not really where I think it’s going to be. All the little diagrams about how you go to the rear and it pushes, go to the shoulder and it pushes out, and go to the eye, it stops? No. It’s different on every cow, but you can stop a cow back behind the shoulder because they’ll turn to look at you. You have to watch those stock and really pay attention. If you can’t get out wide enough to push, hook that eye and they’ll turn toward you and keep going and they’ll turn. Not in big, outward circles like I think of with dog training, there’s an “in run” too – where the dog or whatever can go to a spot, hook they eye, and then run back they way they came and that will turn just as much as a dog running all the way around to push the head way.

This. Is. Huge. At least to me.

We get Rippa back on, and I learn another big lesson. I’ve been watching Shannon work her dogs and all of them have bite. Good bite. Rippa, on the other hand, is a real preservationist. She tells them she’s going to do something, but she’s a little worried it’s going to hurt if she backs it up. I don’t like this. I don’t like this so much that I forget about the subtle handling tricks I just practiced and latch on to the “sic ‘em” mentality and just want Rippa to grab a hold and back up her warnings. Don’t get me wrong, Rippa does from time to time, but not EVERY TIME.

I’m in the midst of the eight billionth “sic ‘em” fight we’re having with that dominant steer when Rippa pops in and then gets out of it and the steer, sensing the pressure is off, pops right back the way we want them to go. And here I am with my ego worrying my dog doesn’t have enough power. Rippa has enough power, but she doesn’t have enough cow sense yet to stay out wide enough to not create problems. And *I* don’t have enough cow sense yet to show her to do it. So when she comes in tight and the cow puts its head down for the attack, it can’t run, so it wants to run her over. If she would just say, “Hey, I am here” and then get out of the pressure zone, the cow would turn. And I’m not letting her because I’m riling her up because I want my dog to hit the head.

Stupid. Super stupid. Better to have a confident dog that takes pressure off and waits than one that goes all fool hardy into a fight. And I’m creating it. Shannon’s been trying to get me to stop her from doing it (and me) by having her stop once she’s turned her problem cow so she can learn to relax and take pressure off, but my ego got in the way of this lesson.

So, yeah, I needed to get it down before it fades. You need bite sometimes, but you need prudence other times. The solution is NOT always to go harder in, sometimes it’s to go further out. Hook their attention, then do something unorthodox.

Heads down? They’re just looking at you. They really don’t need to fight. Out! Out! They see you!

Anyway, not a bad work, Rippa gave it a good go – she took her commands pretty well for being on cattle (which is really, really adrenaline pumping) and she let angry Rippa go after cows challenged her. She also had no issues walking up calmly on heads. I’ll take it.

But I’m parking my ego about what she should do at the door from now on and just trying to learn to read the stock. Help your dog get it done. Don’t worry about anything else.

Curt Pate Part 2: The notes

You can read part 1 here.

Dustin Wood uses his horse’s butt as a wing (as mentioned below).

Mr. Pate’s cattle clinic was one of the best clinics I’ve been to for a number of reasons:

1. It was ridiculously cheap.
2. I understood the stock more clearly than I ever have. We always focus on our dogs and the stock aren’t really as much of the equation. They should be. This clinic helped me get there.
3. The first hour or so, I basically felt like I had a lot of work to do (especially if I want to trial on horseback . . . those horses take a LOT of work).
4. Some things that I’ve been feeling out but not told got solidified. I think I’m definitely at the beginning stages of mastering this stuff in that I can see things, and I can also see things I don’t know.

Curt started his clinic with everybody on horseback as he lectured about what he did, and then he took to doing warmups with the horses. I thought this was great. I’m sure everyone was wanting to get to the good stuff (moving cattle), but reality is a good check. Is YOUR team fired up?

General Thoughts

Think of this as smooth stockmanship – that’s how he thinks of low-stress stockmanship. No hurky jerky. Things just flow. Look for it. Stay ahead of the action – if you have problems, you’ve acted too late. Look way ahead, not right in the thick of the business at the moment.

Curt didn’t have a lot of money back when he started, so he made a deal with himself: he could attend one clinic and never go back. It was his job to get the most out of it he could. I  LOVE this. Most clinics, people just kind of treat them like a lot of lessons back to back. Kathy Warren had remarked last clinic that I was good for keeping my journal and she wished people were writing more things down (that’s partly why I do this public blog, so it’s down for everyone). If you paid attention and asked the right questions, why do you need to go back? You learned it. Apply it.

When in doubt – keep things simple and easy. Your equipment doesn’t matter (and don’t use equipment until you manage the basics (this means sticks, spurs, etc). Your handling of the animals matters.

He has a rule about the horseback clinic: your horse can’t get into a lope (or gallop). If you need to – you’re too late.  Keep everything under control. I loved this because Kathy is always reminding me that I need to not run – if I’m running, I’m wrong. I’m athletic enough to run, but keep it under control. Running – it’s out of control.

Good stockmanship means you’re 100% self aware at all times.

When you put a command on and the pressure on, release for the START of the movement, not for the movement itself. Remember that bad stuff happens because you’re late. (Great advice for dog handling, too.)

** Movement creates movement** This is the cardinal rule of livestock. Always keep moving – they see movement better than contrasts. Keep their mind on you  and they won’t have time to see other things.  This is what goes on when a dog runs to other stock in another pen – their mind isn’t on the stock you’re working for one reason or another. Keep their mind.

Horseback Thoughts

1. Smooth horses – work to have a horse that transitions with its gait smoothly, that can get to business and then calm. That can just stand there calmly. He says he doesn’t like “cowy” horses because they’re hyped on adrenaline. Better if they’re just doing what you ask without adding more energy. (I have always felt about this with Fury in agility – seems like the same applies to stockdogs – you get in trouble when the dog gets amped. Look for dogs that can return to calm when the challenge isn’t needed.)

2. Do a little exercise where you have the horse move ONE foot forward and one foot back. Those tiny steps are important. (Same as with advanced stockdog work.) You want a responsive horse (and dog).

3. It’s the human presence that matters on the horse (or the dog presence). They look for predatory movement – a drone can’t work a herd of cattle.

4. The cattle will feel pressure of the horse like a dog does – a cowy horse will put more pressure on them because it’s watching them.

5. When you get into an arena, everyone rides clockwise – don’t do it – be ambidextrous with everything. Ride with both hands in both directions.

6. Your horse should have 3 slow gaits: a lively walk where the horse has its ears up and is watching something, a slow walk that’s straight (this part is hard), and a straight back up. (Sounds good for dogs, too, but that straight backup is something else . . . ) Don’t ride horses next to rails because they crutch on it for going straight – pick something in the distance and have them go straight to it.

Turning a cow? Back up out of the flight zone and turn into it – work those angles. Don’t go straight to a cow, think about what it sees.

Horses (and dogs) should give to you

- Get them with a soft feel. You can pull on a horse and give to pressure? He doesn’t want that. What he wants is reins short and just the small fingers of your hand tighten – that’s the soft feel. Set neck is just pretty, not function.

- If the horse is rolling its bit while you work on drills, that’s good – it means he’s thinking. You want a thinking horse. But pay attention to how amped it gets, a horse amped will amp cattle – that’s not smooth handling. (Same with dogs.)

- Pay attention to your horse – they have a really hard time with more than one thing. Don’t pull the reigns and kick with the legs – one or the other. You should be able to rock your horse’s weight gently by just using one or the other. Just the saddlehorn will move.

Don’t just worry about your horse – worry about you: are you approaching straight on, from the side, looking at your stock or not. This all matters. (Or wearing a skirt. Never again.)

Your horse should be able to go forward and turn into the flight zone as well as go back and turn out of it. Same with dogs, I’d say.

You should never have to turn more than 180 degrees on a horse. Spinning is silly. Get good at 1/4 turns that stay in place, both backward and forward.

- Draw a line and take a 1/4 turn in a circle.

- The horse should turn straight rather than bend

Smooth stockmanship is precise: you can put your partner exactly where they need to be.

Cattle Handling

When you do a take pen, you can do as little as you need to – you don’t have to go to the back of the pen. (He goes halfway in and stands there – it creates leader cow flow and the rest follow calmly.)

Driving: the farther behind the cattle you are, the more out of control you are. A dog just walking up isn’t doing much other than following the drift: he should be wearing a little – working the sides where the cows can see them. A dog that works wide allows for the animal to not have to turn and look for the dog when it’s behind it: helps in keeping the cattle calm. We try to work dogs and horse and ourselves in a straight line but it’s not natural to on stock.

If a cow moves away from pressure on one side, it will look on the other side to see if there’s pressure there. (The fatter a cow gets, the less flex they have to look.)

The way to change a cow’s mind is to get their attention – that’s all. If a cow is eating, all you need to do is come into their field of vision and change their mind about food and put attention on you. they’ll look up and see their buddies moving and move, too. You pick up a group by picking up the leaders and the others will follow so long as they are watching the leaders.

If a cow is trying to get by you, you need to ride/run up next to them, and then fall back. The cow will look back at you and you can then step in to turn them. (Lots of self control needed here for everyone.)

If you ride with the cattle (aka parallel drive), it will keep their mind on you and you won’t need as much dog or cow. In a parallel drive, turn your chest away to take pressure off.

Are the cattle in a corner? Walk in, find the balance point until one turns in, then back out. Readjust, always looking for that balance point and walk out, working that side. If you get too excited and too close, the cattle will stop to look at you and it will stop the flow, resulting in less smooth, clean movement.

You can’t move cattle looking in different directions. Get them to look the same direction and they’ll naturally drift in that direction.

Should you make noise? If you have to, but too much noise will cause them to turn and look back at the noise: stopping flow. Don’t yell.

What if cattle are “trotty” (or light, as I have used to describe them)?

You might have to get aggressive with them to teach them to take the pressure, but always be able to pull out of it (again, need a dog that calms down and gets out when it’s not needed). It’s just like handling dogs, or horses. Get after bad behavior and then don’t nag or over correct after. Some people think they have what they takes to do this, but they don’t and they can’t control their emotions (and some dogs). If the cattle don’t get it, you can push more. He used to push and release but he says it doesn’t work. Push and half-release. That can work.  Though, when you first start working stock, it’s a good idea to release all of it until you know you can do more. It’s finite work.

Do you want to line cattle out? Work the leader. The rest will follow.

You can draw stock into you without someone at the top of the arc. Get in front of the eye, and then pull back and they will look and draw you – changing the mindset of the direction they were going. Don’t use eye – eye will cause them to turn. This is called “hooking the eye.”

Watch the lead cattle, but if you focus too much on them, the others see you coming up and will stall out.

You can stop cattle/sheep from panicking with wearing – they will see what’s going on.

You can use a horse’s butt as a wing if you’re working panels: use the head and it will be too much pressure for the stock to pass.

Sorting stock for a run? Go in and look for the stock that feel your presence most (turn their heads away from you) – those are the ones that will work great.

Curt Pate Cattle Clinic Part 1: Two photo essays

I’m not going to pretend to know who Curt Pate is, aside from what his website says. The Woods said I should really go to the clinic, and audit it, so I did. Best $20 I could spend anywhere.

I was very impressed with his lecture and just his style. Everyone, from been-there-done-that cowdog trialers to Cal Poly animal science kids (oh man, throwback to 15 years ago fro me) felt comfortable with him, asked him questions, and he was just generally a supportive, congenial, and good sport. He had a balanced perspective on things and really did demonstrate really beautiful low-stress stock handling (or as he called it, “Smooth Stockmanship”).

In the first couple hours of his clinic, he lectured, and I got about ten pages of notes that I’ll get down, but I did something a little different this time because I had the ability to do so as an auditor: I took photo essays of a couple things he was trying to get people to understand.

So, away we go.

#1: How you REALLY move a herd

Generally, if you see people go out to get herd animals, whether you are talking about in a field or out of a pen, the way I have been taught (and seen it done) is to get the influencer (guy on a quad or horse or a dog) to go out, around the stock and way from their sphere of influence, and then come in from the top. Curt had other plans and demonstrated this.

Basically, it involves turning some heads by getting around them, and then just letting the rest do the work. Movement begets movement. Once a cow is turned, the other cow will see him or her wander and start to follow. You don’t get all the way in the back where you can’t turn the lead head’s cow, you get where you need to. And here’s a photo essay illustrating that.

He not only gets the cattle moving, but he’s able, at the end, to create a little draw by sending a couple behind the complicated panel setup and bend them into a chute without any support. Pretty impressive if you ask me.

#2: Working cattle like you are a dog

This part was interesting to me. Curt has a theory that today’s society makes us line up all the time so we think going straight’s a good idea but it’s not. Dogs wear because they’re catching the eye and pushing the cow, but a lot of times the human doesn’t do that and isn’t effective. So, whether you’re on horseback or whether you’re on foot, being aware of the power of wearing (and how the cow reacts to your position) can get a lot out of them.

You can see him bending the cattle using eye the way a dog instinctually does. The horse moves laterally instead of just directly at it.

Notes to come. I just thought these two aspects of stockmanship were pretty cool and wouldn’t have come naturally to me. Though I do have to admit I’ve seen the herd gather style work really well with my ducks in the take pen. They don’t want my dogs to come at them and then stop at the top. They will move right on out if the dog is just far enough to tip the lead duck and keep moving. It’s not “trial pretty” but it’s effective.

More to come!

An Interlude: What Should I Be Looking For in My Dog?

A lot of people have started to ask if I’m going to be breeding Rippa. Enough, actually, that I was spurred on to do her genetic testing earlier this year (all clear). But I do not have plans, per se, to breed her yet. I need to find the right matches for my goals and know that I have enough homes for my puppies. Rippa, like her mother, is not a great fit for everyone. My line is what I’d call “Advanced Aussie Home Only.” They have quirks, they need management, and they need someone who is going to use them. A couple of Rippa’s siblings ended up as purely companion dogs, but both of those dogs were the lowest-drive and lowest-energy in the lot. One the males we almost kept because he was just so sweet and cute but he was also the slowest and less drivey of the whole pack. Not my speed. Rippa was mid-ground, along with her red bi brother.

Rippa, I’d say, was a success of my breeding program. She has turned into everything I’d hoped to get out of my breeding Fury to her sire, Ben. But having two dogs in contrast, and the opportunity to work them both as adults puts it into a real perspective for me – more than I see from watching other people’s dogs perform in trials at different stages of their training. In fact, both dogs are about at the same level of training at this point and it’s interesting to see what I need to work with on both of them.

Something happened a few weeks back at the Woods that actually shook my confidence a little more than I should admit. They had a puppy buyer in who was dropping his dog off for training for the next few months and he was watching me work Rippa and offering observations. I think I’ve said before that I don’t do well with unsolicited advice.  There is this amazing article that articulates it, though I think few people don’t identify with that feeling of loss of control I get. I just don’t handle it well when I don’t know if I should be taking someone’s criticism or ignoring it. And generally, that’s all the time because I recognize the merit of everyone’s opinion.

One of the things he happened to say was when the Woods encouraged me to put Fury, who happened to be with me, on the goats and sheep. Fury’s style is much more “border collie-esque” – she shows a lot more eye, moves very snappy: sharp corners, quick response. She looks really, really good. He points out that he likes Fury a LOT more than Rippa because she “watches her stock.” Rippa’s a classic working Aussie – looser eye, less responsive. She’s also less intense than Fury – Fury works on instinct more than Rippa does. To a border collie guy, I get why Fury looks better.

But I was seriously thinking, “Am I wrong, is Rippa really not that great a stockdog compared to Fury?” As I said, I’ve had the opinion that I did a really good job in my matchmaking for the litter with my goals and that she was a better dog than her mother.

So, I actually sat down and started an audit process so that I wouldn’t let the outside opinion of watching a dog work for five minutes influence me that much.

I thought I’d share with you what I discovered.

My main source of information came from the Working Aussie Source Stockdog Library. Kay Spencer’s put together some of the best articles out there on stockmanship, puppies, etc. I stuck mainly to the cattle articles, reading everything pertinent and taking down notes. Cattle because that’s what I want my dogs’ strength to be – I want to be breeding cattle dogs. That’s what the demand is for and that is what they’ve been bred to do for generations. Asking them to be fine duck dogs is lovely, but the glory for Tara Aussies is in the cows.

So what is it I should be evaluating?

Let’s start with what I’d consider rule #1 – the less training a dog needs to get to the goal, the better a dog you have. As one article puts it, you could be training a poodle and they’re very trainable, but you’ll always have to be telling the poodle what to do. The end-all and be-all of a good stockdog (and a great strength of the Aussie) is that the dog should be able to figure out the job with minimal instruction and get it done with minimal help. Kathy Warren always described it as you at one end of the arena with your feet kicked up, drinking a margarita under the shade of an umbrella, while the dog gets it done.

Between Fury and Rippa, who is easier to train? Fury is more responsive – she’ll keep offering behaviors and doesn’t quit and stays happy, but she also doesn’t really “get the full exercise” at times and you have to fill holes in. Rippa takes a long time to “get it” and while she is “getting it,” she seems pretty morose about the whole idea, but when it clicks, she’s consistent and a happy worker. Fury responds instantly, while Rippa is slow, but that’s more because I think Rippa is concentrated on the job compared to Fury. I think if you weren’t a real “dog person” you’d give the points to Fury and probably get rid of Rippa if you wanted instant gratification, but I see merit in both. I’d like to take Rippa’s slow but complete knowledge mixed back in with a little more enthusiasm like Fury’s, but I’d say both are different, but good.

And what components beyond that trainability?

There’s generally two other I see in various writings:

• Desire
• Instinct

Both dogs have intense desire. Fury made it through many years of just terrible training by me and still wants to keep going. She both wants to help me and move animals and it’s great. She wants to do both so much more than protect her ego that we did better than I think we could have with a dog like Rippa. Rippa, again, classic Aussie, does not put up with BS for very long. She’s a great second dog (and probably a great first dog for someone with a mentor) because she works very happily and intensely as long as things are going well. If you’re putting too much pressure on her or she doesn’t like the exercise, she’ll quit. But if you’re not messing the picture up too much, she’s there all the way. Again, both of those things have merit in both dogs. I respect them both for their reactions so I don’t really want to call that one.

Bottom line: both dogs will work through pretty much anything. Neither quits when they get kicked or get yelled at for being bad. Very little is going to stop them from trying to work. Having worked with dogs where very little pressure stops the dog, I am quite happy with what I have and would be happy to pass it on.

So that leaves instinct – in which there are many different parts. Here’s what I’ve kind of come up with as things to look at, ordered according to most important to me to least:

1. Responsiveness to livestock (aka, can they read the different stock and adapt)
2. Bravery
3. Desire to dominate stock, not chase
4. Grouping
5. Rating or pacing self and stock
6. Heading
7. Heeling
8. Barking

Responsiveness to livestock:

I feel like this basically is the lead and everything else in the list follows. As a human, understanding the components of this needs to come with general stock sense – either being raised with herd animals and gaining it inherently or studying it through clinics, books, and observation. Examples of this include understanding what the flight zone is, how to manipulate it, where pressure can be removed and applied on an animal and how it affects it. Stuff like what I learned at Betty Williams’ clinic applies, too.  Just how much does your livestock see compared to what you do – is the cow really fighting the dog or just looking at it. Is the dog too tight in to affect the cow effectively or is she just surprising them? Does being really aggressive serve the dog and cow in efficient moving? Does the DOG understand these things – that is the point. And how early in the training does the dog understand it?

A good illustration of this is an early memory of when Fury was just six months old and I was walking her on the dairy part of my grad school’s campus. My previous dog had zero working instinct so what I’m describing needs to be taken into account. Fury, who was adorable and happy – and harmless- walks up to a friendly Jersey cow that I had been petting. The cow puts her nose down to look at fuzzy Fury and . . . Fury hits her on the nose. The cow and I are surprised but then I’m instantly like, “Oh yeah, that’s why I got this dog in the first place.” Fury wasn’t being aggressive prior to the cow, but feeling the pressure of the cow’s nose on her first encounter with a bovine, she nipped it. Now, after several exposures over the years, the same situation can play out and she doesn’t nip initially. She understands that it’s not needed if the pressure’s not on.

I don’t think you can really evaluate this subjectively when you’re in a situation like mine where you get limited and sporadic exposures to livestock. A dog growing up on a ranch with animals you’re moving might figure stuff out pretty dang fast, but a dog taking a lesson a week on sheep and then seeing cattle once a year . . . if the dog just instantly “gets it” – that dog is amazing. But they have got to be pretty few and far between.

I’d love to know if there ever were such “born” cowdogs raised in the above scenario. I watched a lot of dogs at Betty Williams’ clinic struggle because they lived in an urban environment. I see the same thing happening with Rippa. I’d had a year off from working altogether and Rippa just couldn’t get the “fetch” concept down, though she did get the “move cattle” concept. She gets “fetch” fine now because we’ve been working on it.

But then, how do you explain my childhood border collie/old English Sheepdog mix who famously pushed a neighbor’s cow back in the barn when she had never worked a day in her life and they had recently moved to a ranch in Kentucky. Perhaps she just was chasing the cow and the cow headed for the safety of the barn where she winters or gets fed or something?

I don’t know. I don’t have the experience to know.

I also think this encompasses the stuff like how far out the dog needs to be, how the dog turns and watches heads, etc. But all that should theoretically come with a dog managing the livestock effectively.

Bravery

Bravery isn’t bite and bluster. Bravery is standing in front of something scary and having the guts to hold it inside and regard the situation calmly. Bravery is the ability to take control of a situation despite losing propositions. Bravery is backing up the bark.

I think I told you last time that I don’t regard Rippa as the bravest dog – she takes her time in deciding whether to go headlong into a situation after observation and reward. That’s also a nice quality to have that allows her, after getting kicked, to calm down and start thinking instead of let instinct and rage the the most of her and over correcting, or fear and pain and giving up. Fury is brave, but she doesn’t have the same kind of control on her emotions that Rippa does on stock (or in general). Fury goes FULL OUT and ALL IN, but in many foolhardy ways that have left her fairly toothless in her old age.

But I also don’t think Rippa has 100% confidence or she wouldn’t take as many cheap shots on stock when I have my back turned. I always wondered why, but when I think about it in context of Fury’s ALL OUT ALL IN, that makes sense. Fury doesn’t have 100% confidence and acts before she needs to. It just manifests differently.

This is a weakness I need to fix if I produce another generation of dogs.

Desire to Dominate, Not Chase

This is an interesting component I read about as a defining thing to characterize. The difference between domination and chasing, to me, is pretty clear when I look at dogs I’ve worked with very little real instinct and dogs with lots. A dog with very little generally tends to bounce around a lot, they look like they are having fun. There’s not a lot of wheels turning, they’re just seeing animals move and having a good time with it.

That’s totally what this rabbit is doing in this video:

A dog really trying to DO something with stock is WATCHING it and making choices based on that. It’s trying to dominate the stock and control it, not instinctually just run it down and . . . lick its butt or kill it.

A sure sign of  a dog doing that is a dog that watches his stock intently, usually looking for the eye, seeing what they do, and then turning the other direction.

I was sitting there trying to think of a pure viewing of this since most well trained dogs can look like they’re doing it, and then I thought, hey, I have a video of the first time I put Rippa on livestock . . . and I watched it, and there it is:

It took a while for Rippa to want to fully engage with them, but look what she does when she does: she spends the first minute or so in classic Rippa fashion watching and observing and holding back, but when she does make a move, at 1:38, she picks a group, goes out around them and brings them back to the next group and at 1:45, instead of chasing them, she goes to head (and I try to kick her back because back then I didn’t really know how to start a puppy. I think I get that better now. Should just let her circle and reinforce her staying out).

At a couple weeks old – she’s DOMINATING, not chasing. Gold stars, Rippa bear.

Grouping

This is evident in the above video, too. The dog shouldn’t want to dominate a single animal, but  a group. It should be harder for us to train them to shed out a sheep or cow or two out of a herd than to get them to keep them together. Having a herd splattered all over is useless.

I’d say Fury is weaker here for sure. She regularly drops off an animal or two in the pursuit of getting the task done and ignores them and has to be sent back. Rippa is the opposite – it’s hard for her to ignore other animals that could be part of the flock. You don’t have to tell her to look back, she knows and does not like it. So, I like that.

Rating or pacing self on stock

I think you can lose a lot of the natural instinct here to bad handling. Fury always worked out further and balanced up naturally until I stopped holding up my end of the bargain and now she has a hard time dealing with that aspect of things, though I have to say, after only a couple times out on ducks and sheep, Fury’s doing a pretty good job of letting that instinct come back out and staying off them when they don’t need it.

Rippa can be very, very good at this, too, but I don’t see it coming naturally on the ducks or sheep unless I’m watching her. As I said, I think that’s more about her confidence/bravery than it is her ability to do it. In the video of her on cattle I’m going to post at the end of this entry, when she gets corrected by a cow via a kick, she paces herself pretty well to what’s really needed and doesn’t need me to babysit her.

I do also see her pacing herself with our backyard chickens pretty well. I think it has more to do with my timing and my handling than it does her skill set, but she’s a pretty classic pushy Aussie.

So that’s another thing I’d like to work on in the next generation – a dog that does a better job of self-rating him/herself on stock. That’s actually a big reason I chose her sire – his videos show him doing that as a consistent feature of his working style compared to Fury’s intensity.

Heading

Despite a start where Rippa lacked the confidence to head, she sure isn’t lacking it now. I generally can’t see where she’s aiming and if it’s a clean poll or nose shot, but it’s effective. She has the power to do it. She also has restraints – she’s not an alligator that’s just going in for chomps at every opportunity, so, so far I’m happy.

Heeling

Rippa heeled a lot when we first tried her on stock, but she really hasn’t needed it since other exposures so I’m not sure I’ve seen her do it as a mature adult, at least, not on cattle. When I’ve done pen work with her with sheep, she’s used it (and I’m always impressed at how judicious she is with it – she’ll try feinting and little, light bites before going for a full grip).  It’s in there, I’m not stressing it. I’m not sure how fancy and low it is, though. Both dogs tend to grip higher when I’ve seen them do it, compared to the spot you really want them to. It’s safer to hit the right spot but if it gets the job done and no one dies, I’m good with it – which is why it’s lower down the list.

Barking

Barking’s really interesting. People really hate it in a dog – you want a quiet worker. But that’s really situational. In an open field where you can see a dog and they have lots of room to move, barking’s not optimal. But in brush or tight quarters, you can both find the dog by hearing the barking and the dog can get things done without having to come in contact with the livestock.

Fury never had a ton of exposure to cattle so she was a pretty big barker – she’d punctuate every turn of the head with a bark. Kathy told me once it was partly her backing up her threat since she was so small, and I get that. Come at them like a ball of . . . Fury, and they won’t challenge the tiny dog.

Rippa is doing that barking, but when she starts rating herself, she quiets down, so I think she’ll be a judicious barker as she gets more experience.

So, all in all, I think I’ve identified the spots I need to work on from a objective perspective and satisfied myself in that my dog is pretty spot on for what I want to see in a dog.

I think it’s still way too early to tell how great she is, though, since she’s only been on super gentle stock. We’ll come back to all of this again when we’ve done rank, non-dog broke stock or worked cow/calf pairs. And that will come with time, too.  I’d say I think the foundation is good, at least.

And so here’s the video of Rippa’s second cattle work this week – I have all four works I had (goats and sheep included) in the YouTube link, but since I doubt you’re watching for my handling mistakes, I figure I’ll show you the final work when we’ve been fixing a couple things the first works.

Couple thoughts from this video:

• Rippa’s actually making really good arcs around the cattle. Bigger than I thought. Definitely time to start seeing if I can get that from further away.
• This goes double for the times we do an outrun and I’m too close to the cattle for them to come off the fence – which is dangerous. I need to watch my stock, too and not worry too much about the dog because she’s being fine.
• I like how far out Rippa starts – one thing I’m sensitive to is something Betty talked about – where the cattle just can’t see the dog so they should be a little wide instead of right up along the cow when they come around. The cattle have time to see her coming. Rippa will slow down and stop running ragged when she “gets it” but in the meantime, I like her go juice. Better more than needed than not enough.
• I need to lay off commands like “Steady” because I can’t even see to reinforce them and she’s busy trying to figure out what to do with the cows since she can’t see them. It feels like it’s all going too fast from my perspective, but she’s not doing a bad job of working them – they aren’t running or showing signs of panic so more confidence from me is probably useful.
• I’m handling a lot. I think I need to watch less of my dog and more of my cows.

See a theme here? I think I need to work on me more. Which is why I made these videos. 

Broken Ducks, Rattlers, Goats, and Cattle–oh my!

This week was nothing if not exciting. In order of least to most, I’d go with this for stockdog land:

• My attorney met with us to discuss corporate structure and tells us – get this – that it would be a smart investment, based off of what we’re up to, to buy a farm. HE IS THE BEST ATTORNEY EVER.
• Rippa got to work cattle again after time off of them to work on fundamentals. She did good.
• The ducks, myself, and Rippa almost stepped on a baby rattle snake when practicing our center pen. Jennifer, the gal that takes care of my ducks for me when I am not out there (which is not often), saves the day by beheading it.
• When putting the ducks away, one of them gets  her foot caught in a gopher or snake hole and breaks her leg. This isn’t that exciting. The fact that I somehow got convinced to leave her with the Wildlife Center to get four pins installed to fix it is. We named her Lucky Duck.

Let’s start with the most, because I know you’re dying. I’m not a bleeding heart – I’m not. I literally was like, “Well, there is a 4th of July BBQ coming up, but it would be a shame.” So I called my husband who didn’t know what to do. So he had me call my friend who is a surgeon to see if she could set its leg. She couldn’t, so she called our friend who works with wildlife rehab and brought her down. It’s broken really bad, confirms the vet there, but we should get x-rays. That’s where it starts. She’s currently in the wildlife center recovering from surgery from yesterday. You can judge me, but it was probably going to be a dog or me if not a duck so if making a donation and getting a duck surgery makes me feel better about the whole thing, then there we go. A lesson learned and I feel good enough about it to share, right?

Here’s the X-Ray.

Bruce Nelson made me a poem, even:

You fucked up raking,
And and came close to a duck baking
The vet said ah shuck
Thats one fucked up duck.
But for a few bucks, we can unfuck ducks.
No need to baste a duck, down on his luck
With a pin, a stitch and a nyunk nyunk nyunk ,
We will have the duck unfucked with just some luck.
So be kind to a duck, it brings you good luck,
And as Rickles would say, carry on you hockey puck.
Glad his quack up can be fixed.

So there is that.

I’ve been kind of down in the self-esteem department with the dogs lately. We’ve been working by ourselves for two weeks because both the Woods and Stephanie were out of town last week, so it’s just been ducks. Which has been plenty of time for the dogs to realize that they can cheat me by coming in too close to the ducks for me to stop them without smashing a quacker and grabbing them. Again, they grab them pretty light, but they’ll do some jerky stuff to them now because they’re used to it. I really wish I was a better handler and they never get chances to do it, but I’m not. So basically it’s a pattern of the dog starting off nice because they are cautious, losing the inhibitions, and then getting ratcheted back to nice – or so I think it goes. I’m in the inhibition stage so that’s what I worked on this week and then a duck broke its leg and I felt like a bad animal keeper/handler to have let it happen.

You have to understand that I have a LOT going in my life. I’m not a simple person remotely. You can’t expect a lot of attention to detail and perfection out of me because I’m always in about three places at once. The stockdog stuff is pretty much the only time I’m focused on just that. That or climbing are the only things that make that work, aside from meditation.

So, now I’m going to spend tomorrow in the 100+ degree heat raking out the duck pen and finishing the fences by pounding t-stakes in and just DOING IT RIGHT instead of cheating and calling 80% good enough. I don’t regret this attitude, it makes me extremely productive, but stuff like this can happen.

So . . . anyway. I was feeling a little like, well, what am I doing here, really, when I drove to the Woods’ tonight.

Shannon and Dustin are incredibly supportive and mellow. I really appreciate their entire vibe. We’re holding babies, their kitten is hopping up and down on my thigh, there’s a bunch of dogs tied to a fence, but it’s all good. We’re close in age and from the same area and stuff so it’s really different from my usual stockdog land where I don’t have a whole lot in common with dog people. Common friends outside of dogs, we both used to work on the same ranch, etc, etc. It puts me a lot more at ease so I knew I’d be okay. I also told Shannon how I was feeling as soon as I got there and she, in her usual way, was just patient and good natured about it all and reminded me what to work on and away we went.

We’re back to using the big stick again – fundamentals. Two steps forward, one back. But getting a lot out of it. I don’t think Rippa is taking her outs great but I’ve been working more on my handling than worrying about hers, because, well, BIG SECRET – YOUR HANDLING MATTERS MOST.

I’ve also tried whistle training a bit now that I can do it well enough. Fury was like like, “That’s cool – where’ s my treat? This must mean “down.”

Rippa was sure that stuff in my mouth and weird noises meant the apocalypse was coming, but she would try a little and get her treat but . . . let’s just keep our distance and see what happens for a bit, shall we? That’s Rippa. Not stubborn, just wary until she understands. I was talking to Fury’s breeder, Tracey, about it and she reframed it in a cool way: “Self-preservation instinct.” Fury is like, “What is it, let’s do it!” She’s missing a lot of teeth from being a little too easy to commit to stuff, too. Rippa hangs back, generally gives the side-eye to new things, and then as she gets it, then it’s fun. Doing weaves in agility used to make her cringe and now she lets little barks out while she guns it for the poles.

So, anyway, the sheep/goat runs weren’t superb in the scheme of things, but we’ve only been working ducks, but good enough for Shannon to say “BRING IN THE COWS!” again after many weeks off of them.

And, well, Rippa has some learning to do about how to manage them more efficiently because there’s a lot of wasted power and bark right now, but it’s also a lot of me not handling right. Dustin tells me as I go in, “Now remember your rules are still in effect. Expect on them what you expect on the goats.” And these cattle are SUPER gentle so once I got comfortable enough to go through them to get to her – it went from a little too much yahoo, to one good reinforcement and Rippa settling down and keeping them in good control.

She still is a real strong header, which makes me happy – as I remind you again, she started out not willing to go to head. This means she’s probably just as strong heeling if she needs it since that was her first instinct during first exposures. I think, like her mother, Rippa’s going to shine most on cattle.

One thing I don’t like about cattle that I’ve seen with her is that her hits aren’t great – she aims too high. I talked to Shannon about this. She’s probably seen cattle now as many times as Fury has in their lifetimes, which is not much – probably 10 days worth of exposure total – and big spaces in between. Would she settle out and not hit as badly? Shannon: “Maybe” though she sounded more “yes” than maybe. We’ll see. It’s not fancy heeling I need to see, but “self-preservation” heeling would be nice. Especially since her Slash V lineage is pretty well known for good positioning hits, it’s got to be in there. In time we shall see. At least she hits, right?

And, well, I feel pretty good. Rippa settled out tonight really nicely when I got my stuff together, the duck is on the mend, I’m committing to put the work in to make my duck arena nice, and we’re moving forward.

Oh, and I buried this one a little intentionally because I know the anti-AKC people won’t be thrilled at this bit of news, but I have to try . . . I found out Fury’s full sister is somehow AKC registered and apparently there’s this “open AKC” registry where you send in a certified pedigree and photos of your dog and for $20, you get a registration back.

We shall see. It’s way too easy, if you ask me. No DNA (she’s parentage verified, fwiw – not that I was worried), no microchip, nothing. But hey. If it opens up options for me down the road for selling dogs or just a new place to trial (because why SHOULDN’T good stockdogs represent at USASA Nationals?), it cost me a total of $30.

The videos are taking forever to upload so I’ll post one or two here when they’re done.

Cows and Ducks and Sheep–and a video of the stickwork practice.

Stephanie is on vacation the next few weeks so I’ve got just cattle and ducks to work and so that’s a little different than what I’m doing on the sheep.

Which, when I think of it, is pretty interesting. You don’t really work on the same things on the same stock. You work on sheep to get the fundamentals down with your dog and you, and then there’s this whole other ball of wax with the dogs on cattle and ducks.

The ducks make the dogs’ brains fry. They’re used to fetching and driving and having the animal move away faster the closer they get. Ducks don’t do that. They quit and ask the dogs to eat them. I can see value in having dogs learn to work ducks because it has to teach them that heavy pressure isn’t always best. Having watched a lot of stock runs, this is true on all stock – and usually if stock goes sour, it’s because heavy pressure flips them from flight to fight.  When I work the ducks right now – I generally am just looking for the dogs to get a feel of it and take my obedience commands, whether its driving a little or fetching. I can’t run into the dogs to reinforce “out” because the ducks won’t tolerate me, either, and that’s why you have to get those fundamentals down on sheep before you do serious work with ducks, or at least I think so. ESPECIALLY if your dog wants to chomp them. Since I have chickens at home and these are MY ducks, I’m more confident if I cause a little duck nip once in a while – the dogs aren’t very prey-drivey with them and seem to nip them a bit to see if they’ll do something rather than try to really do anything to them. I think they get they’re helpless and don’t need real toothing. Soft mouth for the win.

On the opposite-but-same spectrum, you’ve got the cattle. Cattle are “like ducks” in that you can’t do a lot of “get in there and correct.” The dog either takes what you want her to or not. The last video, as  Dustin said, I was wanting Rippa to just figure it out on her own, but what she was figuring out was that she could do whatever it took to get the cattle to come to me. (I want to say I’m happy about it – her first exposures to cattle she wouldn’t go to head – now she loves it, so hey). We don’t want that “Whatever it takes.” Plenty of cattle people do want that and I’m glad I’ve got dogs that will figure that out and do it, but we want more finite work. Dustin is always reinforcing the concept of “If you’re able to put a dog anywhere you want, you can get a lot done. Wild cattle or not.” So that’s what we’re doing there. That’s why I spent the last few visits with them working their goats and sheep. We need Rippa to understand what she needs to be doing fundamentally better before we put her back on the cows and can’t step into them because, well, they’re cows. They’re huge and can be dangerous when you get cavalier and too focused on the dog.

A commenter asked about my May 7 posting – could I show some video about the stickwork I described there.

Basically, I didn’t ever do ground work to teach the dog what the stick means – they are usually just picking it up during lessons, but the Woods suggested I do that to get some more performance on the dog when working. Their dogs see the stick and immediately turn their shoulder away and head in the other direction when you do what I do in the video.

First, I picked Fury because I haven’t really worked too much on her with that – her big issue was the stick in general so when I work her, I don’t use a stick at all, just my body. I show you Rippa because she does it really nice . . . but for whatever reason, probably me videoing, you don’t see the turn shoulder and leave in an arc. You could reinforce it by having the dog on a line – but normally they do what they’re supposed to – in both cases, the dogs just decided to leave the front yard after I did it. I wasn’t working with them, I’m talking to you, so they weren’t having it. Best I could do without help.