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!

“The Dip”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today was that day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And my day was now turned around.

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

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

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

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

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

Dang, that’s a lot.

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

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

Gratitude and we’re trial ready.

I have to start this out by sending some public love. It’s 2015 in a few days and the perfect opportunity to bask in the achievements of the year. For 2014, there were many, and not just in dog stuff, but we’ll stick to that because that is what this blog is for.

I will continue to shout it to the heavens, but we are never solely responsible for our own successes, ever. When I look at where I was last year, and where Rippa and Fury both were, I’m just floored.  And this is not because I’m awesome (in fact, in many ways we’d be even better if I was more awesome), but because people found it in their hearts to take me.

First, to Kathy Warren for recommending me go to Stephanie to rent sheep. Had I not known about her, the rest of this would not have happened.

To my husband, who was a massively supportive champion. He told me to get over my insecurity about contacting Stephanie and try again, his efforts prior to that in finding me land to get sheep, his efforts to find me cattle when I decided it was time, his building the duck pen with me, and his blessing of us financially and time-wise because both have been major sucks when I could have been doing a million other things with both.

To Stephanie (Operation Sheepdog) for being a good friend. Moreover, for trusting me and teaching me to relax about hurting her stock. For her patience when they did get hurt – she’s never yelled or nagged, she’s just simply told me about it and trusted me to take care of it going forward and I am so appreciative of that.

For the million other things she’s done for me from book recommendations on stock handling  to taking time to talk to me about finance, wealth, and utterly changing my mindset about that. It’s not necessarily stockdog stuff, but I think because of her setting me in the right direction, the huz and I will take our unique ability to handle risk and do some incredible things in the future. And I’m also grateful to her for not being disappointed in me buying a house instead of investing it like the plan. A lot of mentors would see that as an apprentice failure, but she’s great specifically with taking you where you are and realizing you have to make your own mistakes and forge your own path (or build your own life because I don’t think the house was a mistake, and I doubt she does either). 

Stephanie also enabled me to stop stressing about stockdog resources because her setup is great, affordable, and a beautiful (if not a bit of a drive) location. Instead of needing land RIGHT now and taking what was good enough, I was able to make other choices that are more right for my husband and I (I’m glad we couldn’t get the house with the land that I at first wanted – I am enjoying my new Los Osos house a lot more).

To Jennifer (Best Family Farm), who again, has been an amazing, loyal friend and to V, her daughter, who is as well. Jennifer supporting my having ducks on her property enabled me to learn so much more about them and make leaps and bounds in handling because of it. It also reminded me how much I love animal husbandry and while I’m not the one that takes primary care of them, it’s a taste of it. The fact that I’m not is also SUCH a big gift on the part of their family. To both Jennifer and V for letting me ride Lady and Maddie, because I haven’t done so in years and that reminded me of that part of me that’s been dormant for years. I LOVE working with the horses and my friends and I especially love riding with the dogs because I feel like I’m fulfilling something in my heart and in the dogs’ hearts about being a part of the west and that experience.  I only hope that in the future I’ll be able to give back to them as much as they are giving to me.

And to Shannon and Dustin (DSW Stockdogs) – I know when I showed up at their place I was nervous and stupid and stressed out because I didn’t want to look like a fool when I showed up. My friend Dom kindly pointed me in their direction and he gets a shout out too. Along with Stephanie and the Bests, they’ve become some of my best friends (I see them way more than any other circle of friends so it seems natural) because it’s not just about dogs or what kind of dog I have or anything. It’s because they're good people, fun, and so hospitable that they’ve opened up their world to me – with patience and smiles and OMG their adorable son (also, I must say that Shannon is a fantastic baker).

I think the Woods have given me back the original reason I’ve gotten into this stuff in the beginning. They’re pretty urban where they live but they’re ranchers, too. Things make sense because they make money doing it, because the relationships are worth it, and because the life they want is there for the taking. There’s no need to prove oneself or get into fights about anything because they’re just doing their thing and they’re good at it. From parenting to stockmanship, to just living – seriously, guys, you’re amazing – and they’re younger than I am. Infinite potential for joy, success, and abundance and you can literally feel it emanating from the trio of them.

As I was driving from sheep to ducks today, this combination of people and their allowing me into their life has me thinking big thoughts – not about winning trials – but about what I want for the future and how to get there, and if you know my huz and I, it’s not a far-fetched dream.

Deep gratitude for you all for sharing your worlds with me this year. I cannot begin to tell you how much I have profited from it on so many levels. Hope this doesn’t embarrass you.

So, now that I’ve gotten the love and sap out of the way, we’ve got about a week until the first trial I’ve entered in something like 7 years (Sunday, Jan 4). Stephanie has been encouraging me to enter sooner, and the Woods are shocked that I think I’m ready – of course, the Woods are used to cattle dog trials where the beginning ranks are still very experienced, in my opinion – close to finished, dogs. I just need to get stock out of a pen and get through two panels and put them back in the pen.

I was stressing it last week because of what COULD happen, and so have been practicing the take pen since I don’t do that a lot. Stephanie, if you will remember last time, told me to chill in there and Rippa would relax. Well, she did. I really liked her advice about not stressing that her take pen was so tight – that means at the trial Rippa will be LESS stressed because it will be a bigger pen. Of course! Another duh moment.

On cattle this week, we basically just ran some practice stuff. Shannon told me to do two things:
1 – I yell my commands like they’re corrections so stop doing that. Give the command like I want to give the command, and THEN verbally correct if I have to.
2 – Make sure I have Rippa’s attention and anticipate trouble before it happens.
Both are duh, but I needed it.

Long story short on #2, there was a discussion on a cattle dog group about the difference between BCs and Aussies and one thing that was pointed out that I don’t think I’ve ever noticed before was that Aussies break contact with the stock for a second and look back at the handler for (or to confirm) commands. I will say not ALL the time, but watching videos of Rippa, sure enough that happens. It made me realize that many times, Rippa’s not blowing me off, she’s just so intent on the stock she’s not hearing me – so I should be patient and figure that’s it.

And I did. The runs went pretty well – a couple things I liked:
- Rippa heeled appropriately again. I wondered where it had gone because she’s a strong heading dog and when she loses control she tends to grab body shots, but I know she heels too. The cattle got balled up in a corner and she had enough control to walk up, look at me for help, and when I told her to hit them, she hit tentatively  - it worked, and then she hit for herself when she needed more and we were out f there. Nice and low on the hock and not getting excited after.
- I lost the cows in one corner because of the draw of the gate. I totally wasn’t THINKING about that and I was like, “DUH! Bad Kristin!” So the second time we pulled a parallel drive to get them through the corner they were drawing away from. I held them at the eye and Rippa pushed the rear. Worked great and reminded me how to handle again.

I left with a pretty solid strategy there for the cows.
I was stressing sheep and ducks, though, because Rippa has power and take pens aren’t always clean.
So my husband wrote on my hand:

And that was the plan today.
Guess what? It worked. We sorted sheep at Stephanie’s in record time, got them into the take pen, and worked on being quiet there first. Rippa, remembering how cool cattle heeling was, would do it to the sheep a bit in the tight spots but really easy. Even if a sheep turned to face her, she would hit it on the poll or nose, but really gentle – HUGE EVIDENCE THAT IF I AM CHILL, RIPPA IS CHILL.

We did a couple laps of her field and went to ducks.
Same thing with ducks. Only a couple issues with Lucky Duck when I worked her back in with everyone (the first tries were with my most happy 3 black ducks) because she’s more tolerant of the dog from being a backyard duck at my house for a while. As long as Lucky isn’t in the draw, no issues (even then, all I need to do is not let Rippa get too much pressure on her and she’ll be easy).

Rippa’s attitude these days is if I will calm down and shut up, she will happily do her job. Over handle or get angry or confuse her and it’s over. She’ll either quit and come suck up to me or she’ll take it out on the stock.

This forces the Kristin to become very zen. WHich is something Kristin should do anyway and is a major life goal for 2015 (to specifically work on that) – it will benefit my dog and the stock, as well as everyone else who deals with me.

Stockdogging for a better life.

Final thought – everyone keeps talking about me wanting to win it. This is something I’m going to guard very carefully for any time I exhibit in the future. I do not want to win. I do not care to win. I care to qualify and I care that my dog makes Aussies look good. That’s why I waited this long to trial and that’s why I’ll wait longer for the cattle trials. My goal here is to show people that Aussies are legitimate stockdogs and not just for hobbists. In ASCA, there’s no money, and often no real trophy, so all the standings and merit in the world doesn’t matter. I need the titles for legitimacy, but even then, working cow-calf pairs in the field works, too. That’s the goal. Eff winning. I will not get into that mindset because then my ego’s stuck and I’ll get stressed out.

No. My goal is to make my dog’s heritage proud.
I’ll write again after the trial. See ya!

It’s Time to Trial (well, kinda of)

I only say this because I could trial tomorrow, but it’s not looking like I’ll actually MAKE a trial until after the new year. So, don’t get excited.

I last left you pretty frustrated but trying to make the most of it with Rippa. I keep saying it’s not linear but we so want it to be! Rippa refusing to work ducks and turning off on Stephanie’s sheep made me take a step back and re evaluate my goals, my dog, and, most importantly, my beliefs.

You don’t get into dog training unless you’re a control freak in one way or another, and that can make it really hard to believe in something because EVERYONE believes in something and if you’re not lock-step behind them, you’re going to have some trouble with it.

As I get older and get better at being me (aka, living in my own skin), I’m doing a lot better on the realizing this earlier and making calls. Same with Rippa. After talking to Joey Judd about what his dogs were/are like, I have to remember that it was never my goal to have perfect trial dogs. There are plenty of those. I don’t need perfect family dogs. There are scads of those. What I need is a dog that I can say to a rancher – this dog will take minimal training and help you. These things can include the others, but they don’t have to.

And so, I backed off all the fine tuning stuff, no circling around the stock and me to set up drives, no hard flank work, none of it. Just fetching and setting up chores. And, taking advantage of the fact that I have all the time in the world, not letting the dogs actually work.

Rippa hasn’t been on ducks for a while now, but she’s got to watch Fury do it and it’s driving her nuts. Good. Be bummed about missing out. We’re taking a break because I’m deep in my work season right now anyway, but when I go out again, it will be to torture Rippa by working Fury again. Muahahaha.

I realized I had some holes in Rippa’s training and have started taking Stephanie’s sheep out to a big alley way to work on driving, control, etc in tight spaces. She is learning that she can drive easy and still control (rather than chase because they’re running away) and she can’t get out wide enough to go to their heads at a full run, but she’s able to do it in the narrow chute if she approaches slowly and easily. I’m keeping sessions short and positive and Rippa is happy.

Sooooo happy. She’s tired.

We’ve been working on obstacle stuff with Shannon’s help, too. She’s learning that non-takepen/holding pen obstacles don’t mean she has to lose her stock and she’s figuring out to make that happen, as well as negotiate obstacles in general (aka, in her way). Shannon and Dustin’s setup is a lot tighter than Stephanie’s because their training goals are different. I really like the balance because we can work on distance and outruns at Stephanie’s and work on all the nitty gritty stuff at the Woods and come up with  a balance.

Rippa’s mom Fury is coming along, too. Today I actually had a thought that I might be able to finish her WTCh in her old age if I pick my cattle well. (I don’t need her getting hurt to do it.) We’ve been working short sessions with her on sheep and she’s learning to balance and that I hold my end now.  The difference between when she started with Stephanie's sheep to today is night and day. I’m definitely going to finish her started sheep title (she needs a leg) and ducks when I’m ready to go out there. It’ll take more mellow control on her part to get to open, but I’m feeling like its possible. Stephanie thinks it’s much to do with her getting older, and that might be it, but I like to not think like that. Fury isn’t much different at almost 12 as she was at 4 in temperament or physical ability – I’ve noticed it’s harder for her to climb stuff, but she still does it – what’s changing is MY attitude and MY handling more than her aging.

One of the things I’ve started doing before working is taking my time with that. I lay the dog down outside the gate and give flanks until they stop thinking STOCK STOCK and start listening to my commands. When they ease up and take them, I go to the gate, drop them, and walk in, leaving them. I might move the stock around a bit until the dog eases up and lets it be my job before I let the dog in. This is working brilliantly to get soft, easy starts at the first go.

So, no, it’s not linear. I went back to basics with Fury and Rippa, but it’s going well and I’m getting more out of them both. Fun fact: I was a college professor for almost a decade and occasionally I would substitute for junior high and high school. What I taught at the college level was the SAME thing being taught in lower levels.

It’s not linear. We learn, we use, we stop using, we forget. One must always go back and work on the basics to get advanced work, even if it’s just a tune up. ESPECIALLY if you don’t use it very often or consistently.

The Naked Fury

Shut up and Rippa is not a border collie

At the end of my session yesterday, Dustin asked me what I’d learned, and I told him, “Shut up and Rippa is not a border collie.” Hence the title. (I think I told him that.)

Last week we took a break because she’s been acting kind of weird and wanting to quit, which I attribute to coming into heat. She is out of it now that I can tell but still a little sucky-uppy so when I went to sheep and ducks this week, I kept our sessions short. Watching her work the ducks, it occurred to me that her outruns aren’t actually bad anymore. She goes at it with appropriate speed – but still a lot straighter than a pretty arc to lift them. But it still works. Whatever she’s doing doesn’t affect the stock until she gets closer and she’s still controlling bringing them to me as if she were making pretty arcs.

Working sheep, I tried it again – we were fetching across the entire field (it’s got to be a two-acre field) and she would start out with her shoulder wide, but then turn in and go straight. But instead of making the sheep move off, they still sat there until she got close enough to get behind them and fetch them. My thought is this: she’s learned how to read her sheep (these sheep are pretty light, too), and she isn’t wasting energy on pretty arcs if she doesn’t need to. I think I’ve done a decent job showing her what I want with flanks and she’s taking over the job now.

It does NOT look like what Shannon and Dustin’s dogs do in a number of ways:

1 – it’s not that fast. She goes in at a walk or trot to do it, so that’s probably why she doesn’t need to arc.

2 – She’s not “snappy” or “precise” like how their dogs and Fury works. She responds, but she does it in time and she’s loose eyed enough that you don’t even know if she’s really trying to do anything or not, but it happens.  She’s less interested in responding to me than to just getting the job done (and I will tell you, I make a lot of bad calls on commands and I talk a lot).

3 – the super big arc out of contact with the stock isn’t there, but, like I said, that might be directly related to #1.

Basically, what it looks like to me is that as Rippa gets more experience with the stock and she feels less adrenaline about the job, she’s slowing down and thinking and she’s understanding what she’s supposed to do and doing it.

We tried, on sheep, to get a batch of them out of the field and into the round pen so I could work on Fury’s issues, but it wasn’t happening. The sheep were just too boogered. They seem a lot more flighty than they used to be, maybe because there are more and even when I sort out my faithful ones, they’re a little sour to things or feeding off the herd mentality which is lighter. It was a new chore for Rippa so she didn’t really ‘get it’ and I feel like it’ll take time for her to take over that job confidently. Nice thing, though, is I know how sheep work enough to know that taking on that task when Stephanie wasn’t around would be fine. They weren’t going to get lost if we failed. Sheep magnetize to what they know like all herd animals, so if they ran away, I was sure to find them by a pen somewhere and they were happy to run home when I gave up.

I pulled out Booger Ram (I’m sure Steph has a name for him) to work with the heavy sheep and while I was working Fury he was getting impatient with her tendency to dive bomb and started fighting rather than moving. Fury was worried less about him than the light sheep trying to escape so she never had to fight him (I don’t really want her too, since she’s 11 1/2 and I would like to keep her injury free and her remaining teeth in her head), but that meant Rippa got another work.

Booger Ram tried it on Rippa again and she was awesome. Calm walk up again, waiting for me to tell her what to do while he stamped at her, and when I said, “Hit him!” she was like, “you betcha!” Great direct hits on the poll, commitment, and then backing off like he needed to get the point. Here’s a photo after her work, knowing she’s a stud now.

I think working ducks really helped with that stuff. Both Fury and Rippa are more apt to back up on stock (ducks or sheep or cows) than they were because the ducks don’t just run faster if you put more pressure on them: they stop. There were times that the sheep would stop because they’d had enough of running, and both dogs backed up until the sheep moved again. Useful stuff, that!

Yesterday, Dustin started me out on  a new flock of goats and I told him I think I yell at Rippa too much because she’s doing the job even if it’s not how I want it to look and he agreed, so I tried really hard not to do anything but handle with body language. We had to put a line on her because the goats didn’t want to flock and they were REALLY exciting, which then brought down her excitement and by the end she was working slow and methodical and teaching them to fetch to me. It was awesome.

We went up to cows in the obstacle pen and she went and got them off the hill for me without any trouble, but I put the line back on her and she kind of lost her interest in it. I don’t know if it’s from last session when Dustin popped her on a line and she screamed and is now not so sure about whether or not she trusts him or what but she wasn’t really super awesome. Holes. It’s cool. She’ll come back. Good stuff everywhere else.

So, shut up, and your dog’s not a border collie. I finally get what that last bit means and why you have to be careful about border collie trainers. They probably also want your dog to work like a border collie. Dustin and Shannon are awesome about letting my dog be my dog and working her for what she is, not what they want, etc. I think it’s really building an all around stockdog.

And all of these different experiences on stock and the kinds of advances we’re making is really showing me how little you can tell about a dog if all it does is train for trialing. A real useful ranch hand or chore dog needs experience to get it down and not every dog has all the heart and go juice to back up the experience.  It’s one thing to take stock around an arena in under 15 minutes, and it’s another thing to work all day on stock that doesn’t know what the program is.

Super grateful to how things are working out. I’d say Kathy retiring has actually been one of the best things to happen to me in my stockdog career (after getting my foundation learning from Kathy) because I was so dependent on the experiences she was providing (and so dependent on doing what she said rather than feeling it and learning it myself) that I wouldn’t have had all of the ones I’m having now.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to trial this fall because my schedule is insane, but I don’t really care. I’m putting in the time to learn all this and it’ll pay off with really knowing my dog and knowing what to look for in a stud if I decide to breed her because I’ve got the whole picture of what she is and whether she’s what I want to see for my goals.

Anywho, it’s cool.

Fury begins training again!

Today I picked up CA Sharp and Kira and we rode up to Creston. Rippa usually needs a lot of help on these days because we are stuck with lambs instead of heavier sheep, and I went into it thinking that way. Thinking that way mean I didn’t ask for too much out of Rippa and it had a surprise result – I got a lot more! Why? Less pressure  on Rippa = more ability for her to get things done.

I’d been doing stick work at home and man, that’s really fun. Once the dogs got it, I’d direct them through the house and it worked on sheep, too. I used the stick really clearly and Rippa took it – really clearly. We also working on our responsiveness – her downs got faster, she started facing out from the sheep and giving them her shoulder. I even got to call a flank or two from behind her. So much improvement from each lesson – it’s awesome. She gets me, I get her.

I was thinking I keep saying I’m lazy, but I should really cut myself slack. When I wasn’t lazy, I was INTENSE and it made training hard for both of us and Fury before her. By not being 100% on every thing perfectly, I was able to scale back my emotions about performance, and I think the result is “lazy” handling. That’s a fine problem for someone that’s been training too intensely for ten years.

It sounded like Kira’s lesson with Stephanie was going really well, too, and so it was. Apparently this was the best work yet. Kira finally gets that she has to listen to Stephanie or not work and she’s chosen to work. She only comes out once a month, so I was happy for CA because I can imagine being frustrated that each lesson isn’t ideal and then waiting a month, but she’s patient and kind of left me with the impression that she was expecting this, so yays.

And then, I showed Stephanie what the Fury had going on. When I asked her, Stephanie was like, “You really want to overwork an old dog like this?”

“Fury isn’t an old dog, she is every bit as fit and active as she was five years ago. Trust me. I’ll watch her.”

We went through the gate, I sent her to get the sheep, and she did it. Coming in wide and kind of intensely once they got into contact with them, but all I need to do was side step and walk into her and she was out again. Her go-by side is really an issue, and I remember me training that into her from terrible handling. She lays down when you tell her and she takes her flanks honestly.

Stephanie seemed pretty surprised, “She doesn’t work like I thought she would. She is definitely under control, and she doesn’t look like she wants to kill the sheep.” I told her that I’d retired Fury because she was too hard to control for me, but I never said “kill sheep.” The Fury’s never come close to that. I have to shake my head because I know someone’s been talking about me behind my back to her. I don’t know what disparaging my dog did for that person, but we’re back and we’re going to prove quite otherwise I think.

Stephanie asked me if she always worked that wide and I said, that yes, that was one of her things. “I like an Aussie that works wide.” Yup.

So, by not getting obsessed with results and knowing that I just have to watch my timing and show the Fury that I’m not going to fight her, I think we’ll have some real progress quickly if I work her every time I take Rippa out. I should keep improving on my handling now that I have two dogs with two different issues to work on. But I am very grateful to Stephanie for giving me the sheep to rent to put mileage on Rippa and to Rippa for being less intense than the Fury (which is what I wanted out of the litter anyway) which allowed me to get more relaxed in handling, because now I have none of the fight and aggression I used to feel when I started the Furball in lessons.

I know the Woods are open to me putting her on cattle, too, but I think at his age we’ll stick to ducks and sheep (not even goats). She may not be less healthy that she was a few years ago, but she’s not going to heal well if she gets stomped – that’s natural. She poked her eye on a plant a few months back and she’s got a little cataract in the spot because it didn’t heal that cleanly. (BTW, yes, the vet confirmed that’s what the cause was, not genetics).  So Fury probably won’t ever get her WTCh and I’m not putting any titling expectations on her, but it will be interesting to see how far I can get with her now, now that I have the opportunity to put real mileage on her with my new headspace.

I was supposed to go try to finish her elite gambler agility title and CD this weekend, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I think where I used to have goals of versatility championships, I’m just so much more interested in getting good at the stockdog thing, especially since I have every opportunity I had wished for (and didn’t think would come a year ago). So, you know, I know Fury can get her GS-E and her CD, and most people who have seen me trial know that, and what do I have to prove? Let’s do stock. All of us like that more anyway.

After the lesson, I took CA to the Best Family Farm to check on the ducks and give them some exercise. They are SO funny looking right now. They are feathered out on the stomach and sides, but they have fuzzy little mohawks down their backs and up their heads. They’re starting to quack more, too. I think they’re a mix of chocolate, blue, and black. Nothing super fancy looking.  I still don’t know the sex ration, but Trish tells me there’s a runner breeder up by her if I need some more girls to even things out. They are TERRIFIED of people and dogs right now, which is good, and QUITE gregarious. There’s a weaker one in the batch of 11 (they sent me a baker’s dozen, if you will, when I ordered 10) that gets a bit trampled so I’ll have to remember to sort it out when working. I’m hoping maybe legging it up will help it, but it’s seemed sort of weak from the beginning, not quite as upright.

I think in a couple weeks we’ll be ready to work them. As it was, Stephanie’s lab/BC Obi got to show what he had (run wide, go to head, lay down) and it helped moving them around the field, with Kira pushing really hard to get in there. I left my dogs in the car, but in hindsight my dogs would have probably done a better job moving them controlled than two PSYCHED dogs with no training on them. As it was, it seemed pretty low stress for the ducks, but they were TIRED.

Fun times ahead, I think. I took home my bean-pole bottle stick. Stephanie had hid it during her Jack Knox clinic this weekend and between my better handling and Rippa taking the stick pressure and me seeing that Fury does NOT need stick pressure right now but freedom, we’ve graduated off of it. I have never been able to do that in ten years of stock training.

I’d say that is a red-letter day.

Oh, and PS, the vet called and told my huz that Rippa scored in the high-eightieth percentile for Australian Shepherd hips – meaning that she’s got excellent little hips and likely won’t have any issues in the future. I’m really glad I went with my gut on that testing stuff. Time to do the rest of it now that the main concern is out of the way.

Video goodness and is it really time to trial?

So, today I had the husband in tow for training. I thought I was going to be on my own (no Stephanie, even) so it would be a good, mellow time for huz to learn to see what I need him to (stuff you’ll see in the video – handling things) and tell me I am doing that from time to time.

No such luck. Another gal was there with her two dogs, and Stephanie had been working one of hers when I arrived.

We really only have one set of lesson sheep right now as the others are lambs or lambing, so by the time I was up, the sheep had been worked at least three times. I was nervous about this because I don’t like overdoing it with them, and there was a baby lamb in there. Steph just told me to pull the lamb out if we had troubles.

The previous lesson person had left the sheep in the middle of the arena, so my usual system of “sort sheep into the arena and then get them set up” wasn’t in play.

Oh, side note . . . here’s the area I sort out of:

I think you should give me props for being able to use a young dog and have her go around that thing and set them up on the gate there in the far right and sort out three or four sheep out of twenty.

Let’s have it. Now.

Okay, THANK YOU.

Anyway, so they are there in the middle of the arena, and as I told you before, these sheep don’t like to stay put. Rippa doesn’t have a beautiful big, wide outrun on her, so I have a choice to just send her and let her get them her way or try to set up a nice outrun.

Stephanie and my husband were both there, along with someone I’ve known for years from working at Kathy’s. Which do you think I picked? The latter. Because I wanted to show that I was well behaved, not because it was best for us.

As good ol’ Norm Andrews would have said, “It should have worked!” But it didn’t. So ugly. Me chasing dog because I can’t get to the sheep in the arena, sheep running full out for the gate. I pick up my dog and Stephanie is like, “You need to get over the fact that I’m here. This is going to happen at trials.” You think? Yeah, I do.

I get so hung up on what I think other people should see that I make bad choices sometimes. Twice, I will point out, twice. Finally, the second time, I let Rippa just get them her way (powerful, straight, and fast) and Stephanie’s like, “Don’t let her kill them by running them into the fence!” and I yell back, “She’ll balance up when she gets up there!” Which she does, get’s out, runs them up to me, and then eases off when the sheep are in contact with me. It’s totally fine for ranch and chore work, but not so much for trials. Going to take time to get that right, and it’s okay.

But that little lamb is not keeping up so, in front of everyone, I’ve got to sort her off into a side holding pen (you’ll see it in the video). Stephanie’s like, “You want me to?” No, I say. Rippa is an excellent penning dog.

And so I ask her to walk up, lie down and try it. The older sheep take the open gate bait, but not the baby one. Steph says I need to his Rips with a “way to” and push them up more.

”I can’t yet. She won’t take it.”

”She will.”

”Way to.”

What do you think she does?

By golly, that dog does a beautiful baby Way To and puts herself in exactly the right spot and I get that baby lamb in the pen with no stress and go right back to work.

So proud. She is SUCH a nice dog. I am really proud of her. I get more and more proud the further along we get.

So then we fool around on the hill and I work on that “out” round  me thing I talked about in the last entry. This eventually bores the crap out of Rippa so I have to watch it.

It’s at this point that hubs  decides to shoot some blurry footage, so now you get video!

Anyhow, I get out of the arena and Stephanie asks me when the next trial is. “Not yet,” I say. “You need to trial to get over some of your being nervous about me. Besides, you’re ready. That dog could win in started.”

Sparkle. But also not. I try to protest as Stephanie says, “Your problem is you – all of that, it’s you. She’s a nice dog.”

”I know, I know.” Then my huz chimes in to agree.

”Just enter.”

”It’s expensive.”

”You two make enough money to trial. What, it’s $150.”

”But I want to do all three stock, that’s not cheap,” I look at my husband in protest. He’s quite supportive of this stuff and doesn’t care, despite other pressing financial issues.

“Heck, she could probably qualify in Open right now.”

”But I don’t have a drive on her.”

“You could soon.”

Anyhow, as much as I protest, hearing it from the huz and Stephanie, I have to acknowledge how scared I am to actually trial. I don’t get it for any other dog venue or anything . . . but this is stone cold serious time. People will judge me if it goes badly or I handle badly. People already liberally judge me and my dog to my face and I hate it. If I do this, the dog needs to have the best chance at success she can.

So, here’s the plan: I get my ducks and I get Rippa a baby drive. I get at least one lesson on cattle from someone so I can tune her up on them. Then I will trial.  Okay?

Like, maybe fall.

Here’s a photo of sheep the huz took:

When it’s time to let the dog just do the work . . .

So the last two sessions (if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m working twice a week at Stephanie’s) have gotten better and better. So much so that this session, I thought, “Well, I should get off the big stick crutch and use the little stick.”

But this is a bad idea. We get so ahead of ourselves we forget how much foundation we need to lay to change so many things. Rippa is just now starting to figure out how to work in a larger space without the fence for help – why would I add something else to that mix if she hasn’t got it dialed? And so, no, I stayed with my 8 foot stick.

But I have to say, this work today was pretty flawless in terms of my setting expectations.

We are now just sorting the sheep ourselves. Stephanie generally lets the sheep out and then sorts out the sheep she wants into a smaller squeeze chute off the arena, but I’ve been taught how to sort with just a gate so all I need to do is ask Rippa to walk up to the sheep, and she’ll easily go around the barn obstacle and bring them to me and the gate. They didn’t really want to do that today (instead wanting to circle), so it took a few goes, but once Rippa got what I wanted, she positioned herself in a balanced spot so that the sheep would stop in front of the gate.

It takes some work to pull the adult lesson sheep out of the lambs, but she would inch forward without my asking as I needed it and we got a good batch of four sheep today.

As soon as we got them out, they headed to the middle of the arena, so while I closed the gate, I let Rippa get them without giving her a command. She starts out slow to see if I want it to happen and if I say nothing, she starts heading toward them.

It’s not a beautiful outrun where she stays way outside their flight zone and then dips in at the top – it’s a pretty rough gather in that she just kind of tips in and banks them toward me, but she does it, and then when they come up to me at the gate, she stops herself. I’m good with that. That’s healthy, happy, functional work and we can work on the fancy later – the foundation for what’s expected (calm control of the livestock) is laid and she’s half-way out of the arena getting them so hey, I’m happy.

The sheep are nearly always spooked, but I have figured out that if I show them how Rippa controls them (unlike the eye-dog BCs she’s used to who work them very differently) by doing silent half-moons on the fence while Rippa balances up and reads her sheep, we can start going.

And so we did. We headed out all the way to the end of the arena and back – not straight, mind you, lots of zigging, but we did it.

At this point, I think I need to focus on handling my end of the sheep because they are light enough to just blow past me if I don’t sometimes block them and let Rippa figure out where she needs to be to stop running like crazy as she wears them back and forth  - she’s getting wider and wider and will go “out” if I remind her, but I don’t really want to have to keep “out”ing her, so I’m trying to keep it to a minimum – right now my goal is less command oriented and more just letting Rippa use her instinct and knowledge to work the sheep.

I have to say – it’s fun to watch. Now that she’s learned not to go flat on the top but that with sheep like this, you win by getting further out, it’s cool to watch her do it. She gets a massive workout because the sheep don’t easily settle  and she can’t just fall in behind them – she’s got to move to each side to check on the sheep and she’s got to poke them back in (but then they over correct and it’s back to the other side), but it looks good from where I sit.

Last lesson, we did some center pen work (FABULOUS) but I made the mistake of opening the gate to send her in and the whether with horns fully rammed her. Rippa didn’t blink – she just went back to work – not even made at the ram, but definitely watching him.

This work there was a ewe that kept breaking off (I mentioned this ewe in earlier lessons a couple months ago) and Rippa did a great job of not letting her get too far. She tends to drop the singleton if they get out too much and go, naturally, to the bigger group and bring them to her – I can hear Kathy yelling, “Bring the many to the one!” I’m impressed the dog is doing it. I’m not sure I want her to do that in trialing scenarios, but it shows me her stock sense and I’ll let her  have it.

And then, since she’d been working so hard, we got back to the gate, she balanced up, I opened the gate, and we put them away.

It was pretty great. Not all days will be that great, but it’s tangible progress and feels great after a few weeks ago when I was nervous that the arena was too big and the sheep too light.

The plan now is to keep putting miles on until Rippa manages them herself, then go to the short stick, and then we’ll start working on some issues (the less than beautiful outrun, she goes a little flat on the top instead of staying out) and refining our commands.

Today was a good day: nice outruns, calling off the top

Last sheep rental, I wasn’t feeling so good about things. I was really frustrated with Rippa’s outruns – it seemed like she just didn’t want to come in easy on them but dive right in, and that once she did that, she didn’t want to bring them to me – she’d just kind of coast along behind them and the natural size of the pen brought the sheep to me. I was feeling kind of down after all the progress we made.

Today I did two things really differently: I brought the husband (who video taped me), and I remembered the green flag that Stephanie kept telling me to try using. I didn’t think my dogs respect it so I never really used it, but so far, everything Stephanie has told me to do has been right, so might as well try this.

It also helped running across this article Terry Martin did for Ranch Dog Trainer: The Aussie Style and Outrun. Reading this article made me feel less like a failure. Why couldn’t I get Rippa to just get out and get around? Because it’s NORMAL for her to want to dive in and then get them. She’s doing what her instincts say.

And it made sense why our last session was a downer for me – I spent most of it really trying to obedience her to the outrun – I wanted her to turn out away from me and the sheep and then go in. That’s not going to work.

So this session, I decided to quit doing that and go back to slingshot outurns, thanks to another article I found on Working Aussie Source: Fixing the Outrun.  And based off the instructions there, with the flag as an extra powerful visual that a stick (even with a bottle on it) can’t compare to . . . we got this:

The video covers a lot of random stuff I’m doing – the outrun work, just giving her mileage on sheep with me leading, and then some calling off the top work. This is the baby step toward teaching her to drive the Kathy Warren method. Stephanie, as I said before, has a different way, but I have seen enough dogs start with KW’s method, I am going to do that first, because I understand it best.

I think next time we go out (tomorrow), I’ll take a lesson with Stephanie and we’ll go to the arena. At this point I really want to work on that gather/outrun and get some mileage walking around. We’ll go back to the calling off when I feel like I have those two things under control with less fence pressure. Wish me luck!

(Oh, and PS? The mouth breathing? It’s because it’s cold and I have allergies that make me snuffy. Problem solved.)

And we begin anew . . .

Ever since I got back from Montana, I’ve been really bugging on my stockdog situation. Despite my best efforts for the past year or so, I still haven’t figured out how to get my own livestock. We are looking at a house sometime that’s $800 more in rent and probably not worth it, but there’s a potential to have sheep training there so my husband was supportive of a possible move while we wait for the house buying situation to shape up.

But here’s the thing. If I’m paying $800 in rent, that’s just rent. That’s not the added cost of having sheep there, and I’m not someone who should be giving lessons so it’s not like I’m making any money back. Almost $1000 a month, and then having to hire a sheep caregiver when I am away . . . and I’m supposed to be saving money for a house and just to be a responsible adult. And we’re starting to think seriously about kids and what happens when I do that?

So basically, I really want sheep and I know I probably shouldn’t get them yet because none of the situations presented themselves that worked right. I feel like I should either give up altogether until much later or DO this. I’ve got a dog that can and I hate that she’s not.

So back a year ago, at Kathy’s recommendation, when I thought I was getting sheep, I wrote to Stephanie to see if she had any, which she didn’t. Kathy had told me it was a good idea to rent Stephanie’s sheep, but if you’ve been following my blog, you’ll know that when I’ve gone to other places, it hasn’t gone well and I’m stressing on hurting their livestock. Plus, in the middle of this back and forth with Stephanie, she didn’t reply to an email and my stupid ego kicked in.

Not in the way you think, I bet. I’m super insecure when I really want something and don’t have something equally exciting to offer someone. In this case, I really wanted access to sheep and Stephanie had them, and if she thought I was a joker, she didn’t need to take my money. Instead of having confidence that I wasn’t a joker and she didn’t think so, I just assumed that was the case and dropped that option altogether. I knew a lot of people went to Stephanie, and liked her, but I’m THAT insecure.

I talked to Pat Lambeth about local options and she told me she talked to Stephanie and that I should try her again. And I don’t remember why I didn’t. Maybe work. Maybe I was just shy, I dunno.

But yesterday I decided that I wasn’t a loser and I should trust Pat that she likely didn’t think so and I contacted her again. Her not knowing me from Adam was like, “Where are you. I don’t let dogs harass my sheep.” And me being me . . . I’m like, “Well, she’s a border collie person and I’ve been warned I handle a bit harshly for some. WHAT IF SHE THINKS MY DOGS HARRASS HER SHEEP?!” I mean, by very nature, putting beginner dogs on sheep is kind of harassing them. There’s a spectrum. So I sent her a link to this blog with the last time I’d worked Rips at Trish’s, but not before she came back and invited me to her house today.

I didn’t need to send the video, but it turns out Trish works at Stephanie’s, too. That’s a good thing in my book.

Anyway, so I show up with my big bean pole with a bottle on the end (thanks Donna for that) and my new W Lazy J stock stick and tell her I’m nervous because I don’t want Rippa to chomp her sheep and I want to be sure she’s comfortable with everything.

I decide we should start in the round pen since it’s been over a year since she’s been on sheep and I am sure we have some foundation to put back in after the cows (she wasn’t taking “out” much).  I go in there with my long stick and tell Stephanie that I have to do this “z” obedience call off thing to warm Rippa up to taking commands and being easy and as she’s watching it, she’s like, “You should get her off that soon. Also, she’s going to be fine. You can send her.”

And I am like, “No she isn’t.”

So we go back and forth in our little exercise where I lay her down and then walk off like I’m doing a slingshot send but am just calling her to me and slowly approaching the sheep going back and forth to keep her focused on me and not the sheep.

And then I send her, and it goes well, but she goes at it a little hard. I’m out there with my 8 foot pole pointing at her shoulder and waiting out her excitement where I can give her the sheep as she runs hard around them. Eventually she does and balances them up but comes in hard as I point the stick at her.

Stephanie says put the stick down, but I don’t know what she means so we stop the action and she gets the stock stick out and shows me how you can use it to put some pressure on the dog with body language and sweeping it at them, but that I really need to take the pressure off Rippa with the stick – it’s what’s keeping her keyed up.

She says it’s like horses, too. A little pressure, but ease off as fast as you can and trust your dog. I’ve heard the “trust Rippa” with Kathy before, but this time I kind of  “got it.” Maybe because of my recent experience with the cattle where I could see really clearly that Rippa got grippy and got kicked when I had pressure on her.  I also see it with Fury – how she works nice off me but when she comes into contact with me on the other side of the sheep, she keys up. It’s me. My pressure is too much. My anger and my position and my not trusting the dogs and myself to handle right.

So I start up again with the short stick and when she doesn’t give, I run into her like Kathy has me do to push her out. Stephanie stops me again. “No. That’s what’s making her get upset. Pressure OFF. If she bites the sheep, it has a lot of wool, it will be fine. Pressure OFF.”

She bit the sheep. It did,  indeed, have a lot of wool. She had me lay Rippa down and calm down. We tried it again, but I felt lost so she came out to handle but Rippa started shutting down because someone else was telling her what to do. I really appreciated that instead of thinking Rippa was stubborn, she could see that she was just feeling too much pressure. “It’s okay,” Stephanie said, “She’ll desensitize if I work with her more over time.” But since she wouldn’t work and Stephanie couldn’t show me, I  told her this was a lot of information and I was having to learn too much quickly, so could I go back to the big stick for a little comfort while I tried what she was saying. Yes.

So now that I had the big stick and experience with how to handle it, I tried the pressure off thing. I sent Rippa without the “z” because she was being easy, and she got around nicely and balanced up. When she got tight, instead of going into her with the stick, I eased off and focused on me walking back and letting her bring them and Rippa calmed down.

As I write this, I think about how Kathy handles and while it felt like all new information, that’s what she wanted me to do, too . . . but I just didn’t get all the pieces until now.

When we had her fetching and balancing, I figured that was a good place to quit and we took a break, with Stephanie working her dogs and showing me how she starts a drive (quite different, but we’ll get to that in a different session).

Next session, I started out with the big stick, but sent her on a flank command with no “z” and just trusted her not to eat them, and she didn’t. Whenever she sped up, I thought about where I was and got out of the flight zone and she’d clam down. I even got her to lie down with the sheep balanced on me and start up walking from there as I backed up (which used to be too much pressure for her to handle without biting).  Since it all went so well and so easily, I switched back to the short stock stick and handled the way I was now beginning to understand. We did circles and such around the round pen, had her stand balanced up, had her walk up from there on them, worked on flank commands and “there.”

The biggest take home for me today was this:
Your dog is intense for two reasons: because it is intense (maybe not used to the stock or working, a new location, being young, or because it just is) and because you are intense. If it’s because the dog is intense, then absolutely I would think that following with the stick until the dog calms down and gives, and pushing out with the stick and being heavy handed can work. But, at that point you need to learn when YOU are being intense. What are YOU doing that’s causing the dog to get nervous. Whatever that is, do the opposite and relax if a dog makes a mistake. When you stop being intense, so will the dog after it gets over the causes of its internal intensity. 

I think I get this so much that I really want to try Fury with Stephanie and see what I can get out of her. At 10.5, Fury has not slowed down at all, and she has all that training on her that if I can fix MY intensity with her and handle better, I wonder if she can’t get some solid training in as well. (I could be pie in the sky on that one – but that’s how much I feel I “get” this now.)

Anyway, as I made turns with Rippa in the round pen, I felt like no time had gone by at all, or, more accurately, like time had gone by and someone else had been working with her in the meantime. Maybe it’s that she had time to mature. Maybe it was the cows. Maybe it’s me putting things together, but I feel like I had a major break through with handling and a couple more lessons (in the arena this time), and  I should be ready to start a drive, she was so nice.

Stephanie remarked as I was finishing up some fetching in the round pen that she was a nice dog and I was going to get a lot out of her. It shouldn’t matter what other people think, but I’m glad to hear it from her: here I was afraid of Stephanie and that she wouldn’t like my pushy, bity Aussie because of stuff I put in my own head.

Part of that is something else entirely. You hear BC people talk about pushy Aussies that can’t do a thing or you hear about BC people who say this. You hear Aussie people tell you that a BC trainer can’t do anything for Aussie people. And sometimes these things are true. But they weren’t true this time in the least. Stephanie impressed me with her understanding of dog behavior and her insights. I liked something she said about the difference with Aussies and BCs. BCs you don’t have to teach to get out or get an outrun with. With Aussies, you do, and she calls it mechanics (which is funny because Kathy doesn’t like “Mechanical training” either, but what she does to start a dog with the stick and pushing the dog out is what Stephanie calls mechanics). She said, “With Aussies, when you start them, you absolutely have to apply mechanics to them to get that behavior solid, but as soon as you do, you can stop and train naturally again.” (Naturally meaning let the dog learn to rate and move its stock on its own). In context, she’s not wrong. I just never thought of the stick and push method as mechanics, but that’s exactly how I perceive how Kathy starts dogs – show them what you want, and when they get it, it’s time for miles added just fetching and letting the dog learn how to do it without your commanding all the time.

I feel like I’ve got a new dog friend, and I’m finally going to go somewhere with this after so much time off – she’ll let me rent sheep outside of lessons so I can go up there a couple times a week and just get some mileage and then go back to have someone else’s eyes on me and fix what bad habits I pick up or continue. And it’s not going to cost me $800 a month.

Moreover, I’m really appreciating this going to other places now. Getting a solid foundation on dog behavior, stock behavior, and the principles of training a working dog from Kathy as a consistent mentor was so valuable, but what’s making it the most valuable is hearing other people say what she did and it clicking more because I’m out of my element and it sounds all new from someone else. I feel like I’m about to grow as a handler and trainer, and that when I feel like I am not getting something, it’ll be time to attend a clinic or go somewhere new, at least for a bit.

I guess I feel a little more grown up. That I can do this after all. I know Kathy said I was ready, but I didn’t feel ready. Now I do.  I hope this feeling continues.