Post Trial #2: Holy cow, they really are just dogs!

Spoiler alert: day 1 loot

Okay . . . so hopefully this blog hasn’t been TOO whiny for a while now, but the long and the short of it was that trialing stressed me out for a number of reasons, some of which I didn’t really understand until recently. When I entered the CVASC trial, it was because I’d given some real thought to why I wasn’t successful last trial and my friends (like Carol and Pat) were telling me I just needed mileage and to get good at trialing as that takes practice, too. I was a little mad that there was this whole other element to it that I hadn’t factored in, but time, experience trying other approaches with my dogs, and my husband’s encouragement to fork over big cash and miss the first weekend of construction on my new climbing gym meant something to me.

And so, I entered Rippa in all four trials this weekend, on all three types of stock. I got an email on Wednesday that there were spots open, so I entered The Fury in ducks. I was tempted to do sheep, too, but I haven’t put her back on them since her surgery and figured let’s wait until she’s better conditioned to try trialing. (Good call, she definitely seemed a little lame by the end of the trial and it wasn’t anything more physical than she’s been doing lately.) I also sent the notice to Shannon, and they decided to come out on Sunday to support me (2.5 hour drive one way support!) and enter their two year-old pups on cattle (they were tempted to do everything, but they were worried they’d get DQ’d for biting as they don’t work to make them not bite stock – that’s what people want from their dogs).

So, up and at them at 4:30 am, we were on the road and the dogs were annoyed. I promised them they’d like it.

We showed up and I was instantly very happy to be there. It was a laid-back atmosphere with people being nothing but supportive. Sherry Baker saw me and was like, “Wow! You pop up in the most random places!” I’d never really thought about it, but she’s right – I think she only sees me at Aussie nationals usually (sitting somewhere around her or sorting stock) and I took a lesson once when I was up her way with The Fury . . . and periodically think I’ll board a dog or two with her on extended trips to get boarding AND training, but it always falls through. We’ll get to it in a minute, but I’m easily intimidated by people like her because I know who she is and her rep and very much admire what she’s doing, but I’ve never had so much as a conversation with her – I was honestly shocked she knew who I was. That first little “hi” set me completely at ease at this trial and that was so cool. The little things, I tell you.

This trial they wanted to move fast and had two rings going at once: cattle, and ducks and sheep. Being in started in everything meant that I was constantly trying to remember who I was going up after, much less what the course was (course D for sheep, which was seriously like an agility course to me – I said something like that and Sherry was like, “It’s not agility! It’s pasture gates!” Yeah, well, at least they have clear fencelines for me to figure out where to go if they’re pasture gates.)  Both times I DQd on sheep? It’s partly to do with me getting turned around with which made me lose focus/confidence and then set up bad stuff for Rippa (who then would go too hard, chase a sheep, and make people yell, thinking she was going to get them). Oops.

Here’s course D (drawn in blue for the open course – started I don’t have to do the pen) - apparently the far left panel isn't actually there - but there was a tree there so I assumed it was, oops:

Both judges had to help get me through the course. This is why I kept being like, “This is me second trial in years. Be gentle.” I’m standing there after the first panel, heading to the top left and they’re like, “uhhh . .. that way.” Ack!

Okay, so, I am conscious of the fact these blogs are long so let me try to make this short.
Betsy and Feather and Rippa and I were in contention for the silver buckle for Most Promising Started Aussie, but the best part about this whole weekend was that I wanted to not worry about that stuff and just get what I needed out of the weekend. In fact, Betsy is so cool and supportive that I made a game with her that high fives happened before each run as a way to take pressure off of both of us. There was a time when I wanted to debut Rippa at the Bullet or Nationals and get myself a buckle, but I’m pretty good about altering goals when need be and right now? I need to learn how to CHILL OUT and have fun.

Part of that meant not worrying at all about what people though about us and making sure I didn’t make the mistake of undoing anything we’d been working on in training, like letting her blow commands or whatever in favor of getting a qualifying score. Shannon and Dustin have worked on timing me on runs and I have found that the ASCA max runs are PLENTY long to take care of business if it’s going well so not to worry about it.

First up was cows. I am the most confident on cows because while Rippa still tends to freak a little and stir things up, she is allowed to bite when she freaks and so I don’t have to worry as much.  That first run, however, I could feel my heart racing and I was totally like, “Calm, calm, calm.”

I do this thing that I learned from the Woods, in which I face Rippa out away from the stock to start. Everyone was starting on the side of the center pen nearest where the cattle came out and I decided to not care about what everyone else was doing and keep doing what works. Facing her out and on the other side meant that she couldn’t key in to the stock as much and that she’d have to start with an out around something, both making her slow and making her think.

I also knew from the week before when we switched arenas for cattle that Rippa can freak out in a new environment (she totally lost her head, barking, chasing, literally making cattle fall over on a slippery part), so I babysat her on this round. She still got kind of rowdy periodically, but as Dustin said, it makes for good photos.

Look at that. She hits SO right on and deliberately and calms down after that I’m cool with her still freaking out a bit. A few months ago she was too intimidated to do that and she’d be hitting side flanks instead. 

I wanted to try just fetching her through everything, but after about four tries, I could tell I was messing with the cattle and decided to let her drive them instead. I haven’t worked a lot on driving so I generally don’t trust her to handle it 100%, but she did great.  Q.

Sheep was up and as I said, watching the runs, Sherry was talking to people about stuff and about how her sheep will go where they need to if you point them right. She told me the started sheep were her lesson sheep (and they had collars, which you can see in the photo, and that’s cute) and all you really need to do is make sure your dog circles and they’ll point at you because that’s what they’re expecting. Well, okay, I said. That’s the plan.

So, I went into the arena – and let me tell you, course D? That’s not just walking around an arena and repenning. No sirree bob. You Q on course D and you’re worthy. Even if you don’t get lost. I have to admit it was more fun than the standard old course, but also very intimidating. I was not expecting to do well here because the Rippa does not feel balance to me well. I suspect this is largely my training both from what previous judges have said (remember John telling me to fetch until I wore out shoes) and also because Rippa would much rather default to thoughtful chilling because she doesn’t like intense, futile pressure, and she does if I give her enough time.  I also think she has the same thoughts about sheep that Fury does – that I won’t hold my end well enough . . . both of them tend to try to over flank for that reason and Fury will cut in where Rippa tends to quit me if I suck. So . . . yeah.

I’m standing out in the arena waiting for the sheep to settle and I can see that they’re not going to. They’re like Stephanie’s sheep who will see the Fury and start heading for the hills. Since the first obstacle is smack dab in the middle of the field, my usual tact of kind of driving them slowly until Rippa feels in control isn’t going to work, so I focus more on making sure Rippa understands that I don’t need pushy or speedy. At one point in the trial, the judge asked if I was moving on to another panel, but what I was doing was trying to establish that circle thing Sherry told me about with a calmer dog. Every time I Q’d, doing that plus heading toward the right panel meant Rippa had enough space to take pressure off.

How much space?

So much space you couldn’t take a decent photo:

The panels and me are well behind the tree.

Every time I didn’t Q – I happened to head for the wrong panel and not get Rippa lined out enough and balancing. I’m not going to lie, that course and sheep in general freak me out. Rippa CAN dial back the power, but it’s a fine line between her quitting me and going too hard and she doesn’t like sheep that much so there we are.

I feel like I get gold stars here for remembering Sherry’s words and using them as well as figuring out to line her out like that. It took me telling her no and correcting her hard (including running up and growling at her), but not caring what other people think and not letting my dog’s skills erode because it’s a trial was worth it.

I wanted a dog with a little less edge than The Fury and I thought I got it, but I still have it in Rippa, I just know how to control it more (and it didn’t come out until we had some miles on her).

So, on to ducks. Sherry’s ducks were reeeeeeeally nice. They’re all the same color and they’re all drakes. My ducks, I suspect, are all females, and they’re pretty good, but they weren’t as honest as these ducks. She works hard to make them nice, I can tell. If you and your dog were good, you were going to Q. So, did we Q? Mmmm . . . my dogs were mostly good but the ducks got hung up on the center pen and I didn’t know what to do. At home, the dogs figure out how to get them off, but here? 1. The ducks don’t know me or the dogs so they’re a little more freaked 2. The dogs and I are more queued up.

So, we did a lot of putting them back on the back fence with me trying to keep the dogs behind them and holding them. It worked once with the Fury (Q!) but the other three goes that day got a little rough when the dogs got frustrated and duck bowled a bit. (PS, I knew they wouldn’t kill/hurt them, so I was more chill than usual, but one time the whole crowd “Hey’d” and it was a little freaky. I told myself they were doing that to correct the dog and not yell at me and got through that little ego kill okay.)

So . . . end of day? Rippa has all the qualifications to put a Started cattle and sheep at the end of her name and we have a bunch of shamrock towels for the bathroom!

I was neither sore, nor did I feel like crying afterward, so I think I handled the stress pretty dang well! I got invited to go to dinner with everyone, and I spent some time in the cattle pens with Denise and . . . the conversations there were super supportive and real. Talking about life, about the stuff that freaks me out not being real, and stuff in the past (Denise’s daughter Leslie was a junior handler with me).

The next day, I got up and took my time, not even bothering to do my usual meditation stuff because I was feeling good and just wanted to get going. Dustin and Shannon were there with their kiddo whom I love and is the most happy, sweet little guy ever. It was like having home come to me. They had driven all that way mostly to support me and that’s more than I could ever ask for. They always ask me how I’m doing during trials and they’re just awesome friends. We talked about stuff and what I learned and got going.

A couple things: Roland, whom you’ve heard of before because he goes out to Stephanie’s with his dog, was there trying to finish his dog Jesse’s WTCh. One advanced cattle leg.  No go the day before, so today was the big day. I told him he had to have a winning attitude and forced him to high five me before going in (it was cute, he was so hestiant about it – 70 year old guys can hug, but high five?).  His run was really good, right up to the point where he was penning and got in a hurry and pushed the cattle out before he could close the pen. He came out demoralized and I was like, “No, it’s about control, right? You only lost 3 points on that happening!” Lawrence warned him he thought he’d crossed the handler’s line (50% off score = no Q), so Roland was pretty sure it was a failure.  We’ll get back to him soon.

So, the night before, Pat had been talking to me about Feather and Betsy and stockdogs and everything in general. Remember I said we were in the running for the most promising award? Well, we DQd three times the day before – and Feather stays off the stock enough that she won’t get DQd, so we were down around 300 points. Go for a buckle or go for Open experience now that we had started sheep and cattle?

I had talked to both judges after the trial the day before. This is also a key strategy for me, I think. Basically – what does Kristin get intimidated by? People who judge her. At the last trial, I timed with both judges and it was easy to talk to them. I didn’t get to this time, so I was reserved until I had the right questions.

Marie suggested I stay in started for the experience and Canby, who I talked to at dinner, told me about how he used to be so nervous he puked (obviously making him a lot less intimidating than he started out being) and told me to go for open if I thought I was ready.

Since Betsy and Feather were likely going to Q in everything, I figured I’d move Rippa in to open cattle because nothing was different except the line (and since I was driving her, the line wasn’t very hard to cross) and penning which I’d been practicing with the Woods. Open sheep? On course D? HELL NO! I talked to Betsy to make sure she wasn’t moving up (and also forfeiting the buckle), and she wasn’t, so as long as she got her 9 Q’s, YAY Betsy and Feather and WELL earned. She’s such a cute dog with a lot of talent. That also took pressure off me because there was no worrying about a buckle.

Look at that – how could Betsy and Feather NOT win?

If a run went less than how Betsy hoped, I kept reminding her there was literally a silver lining so WHO cared? It was awesome. High fives, baby. I like my Rippa bear, but we’re gonna have to plan on a DQ now and again because running wide and staying out of trouble are not our forte’. I think I’m trying really hard to stress that she didn’t win it by default – she was going to win over me anyway because they were just better than we were this weekend. I hope you get that. I bring up the choices I made because I felt like “yeah, starting to understand this trialing game” and I was proud of myself for deciding to try to move up and get experience rather than win something and put the pressure on when we weren’t in a good place to try doing that. I’m learning to get that ego in check!
How’d open cattle go? Not so great. I think the pressure of being in open made me handle badly on the first run and on the second, Rippa had spent an entire weekend getting commanded to do stuff and doing nothing she considered fun and being tightened down, so when she got into a stupid spot because she had to overflank and go to head, she got kicked in the head. I’m sure it hurt, but she also decided that was it and stopped really trying. I mean, she definitely tried, but all her power and willingness to do distance work with me were gone.  She seemed a little lame, too – too many goatheads in the arena? Too much emotional pressure? So, on the second run, I just repenned the cattle so she could end with something fun (out run and a clear point).  That’s cool. I would have been terribly spoiled to go into open from this weekend and Rippa tried so hard for me when normally she would get mad with all that commanding and changing my mind and not being in control and didn’t quit me until she got clocked pretty good.

Even when she was a bad little dog, I figured she was tweaking more because of me and never walked out of the ring without telling her she was wonderful, which I think she is. My theory on Rippa is that when she gets out of control, it’s more out of lack of confidence than being  a jerk. She really, really tries to do good – and her best work is when she knows what I want and I don’t say anything, so I know she’s trying to help me. A great example is with the chickens. She’ll run the chickens pretty hard if I’m commanding her to do something, but if I open the front gate, she goes out slowly to find them and brings them back at a balanced walk so long as I don’t say anything. I get her. People were always saying she is stubborn, but she’s not. She just needs to feel in control of the stock, understand what the point is of what we’re doing and she’ll be super helpful. I have a feeling that with enough mileage in trials, when she learns what they are, she’ll be pretty good.
Ducks? That morning I thought about how helpful Sherry’s advice was on the sheep and how she’d offered it so freely that I wasn’t too worried about asking her what to do with the ducks. Again, I loved how she approached it, almost exasperated that I didn’t know what to do – kind of like, “You know how to do this – you don’t have to keep your dog back and you know they’re headed that way so let your dog go out to one side and pick a side to keep them off. And you can use yourself too!” So, okay! I love how she put it back on me that I knew what to do but still told me what to do. The result? Sunday’s runs were 3/4. (Fury duck bowled a little (just got a warning) but by then she’d earned her started title and I was going back to back on runs and switching dogs while she’d not had any time out of her crate except that duck run so I said, “You rule – we’re done!” and called time on myself.)

Every single run, they got stuck on the center pen anyway, but this time I just had my dog on one side and used myself to keep them off until the dog had enough space to pick them up and go in the right direction. Having my own ducks helped me here. The last duck run of the day (Rippa), the ducks seemed to have figured out they weren’t allowed to get eaten and if she took pressure off, they RAN at her. Well . . . ha ha . . . that happens at home, too, so call her out of there and have her circle around back at them and . . . ta daaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Final score for the weekend? Rippa STDcsd, Fury STDcd (she had cattle) and a much more confident Kristin. We even got some first places in there with actual competition.
I think I might be totally over the nerves thing. Like, it was that easy.
Here’s why –
1. My theory is that I’m old hat at trialing. I’ve been showing conformation and agility for a while and I do not get nervous there at all. I seldom walk into obedience rings, but when I do, it’s also fine and I make sure we have a good time. Stock is different because to a lot of people, what I do and how I do it makes a big fricking deal and I take it to heart. THE FUTURE OF THE BREED IS AT STAKE is how I feel. All I needed was some perspective and a shot of confidence and I could go into normal Kristin trialing mode where I’m fairly successful despite all the complete devotion to the theories and consistent training – in fact, I probably would do better since I DO spend a lot of time on both for stockdogging.
2. Not only were people open and honest about me, almost everyone kept their mouths shut about their opinions on my dog, both good and bad. That meant no over inflated ego or deflated ego. Canby complimented her and that was great, but I heard nothing from my fellow trialers and that helped me not worry about the whole “people judging me” bit. I honestly don’t know how anybody felt about my runs or if they even watched – I think the only feedback I got was when Pat saw one and said, “Oh, they don’t all go well all the time” about a sheep run, but I actually felt good about it because my objectives we more training based than Q based. I had the space to feel good about it and I also knew Pat was just doing what she always does – encouraging me. Heck, when the duck bowling DQs happened, EVERYONE was there and I still didn’t care. Credit to all of them for not freaking me out or even talking about it.
3. All the really good people there with experience and well deserved recognition and famous and fancy doggies had runs that weren't perfect, too. Somewhere along the way, I felt like I shouldn’t be trialing unless I was perfect. I know lots of people said it would be okay, but it wasn’t okay to me. Bottom line? They’re really just dogs and dogs will be dogs! It’s okay!!
3. Dustin and Shannon were more than encouraging, and I did hear a lot of compliments on their own dogs’ runs (they won their started classes by a big margin). Two people were immediately asking after their runs, “So, do you sell dogs?” It was a great affirmation of something that I knew: that I had great friends and trainers in my pocket and despite not doing stuff with Aussie people, I was doing good stuff – and also that my estimation that their dogs were pretty awesome was right – because here they were in a context I could really understand. Roland told me he’d heard people commenting, “Now that’s how you handle cattle” and I figure if Aussie people appreciated it, too, well then, I am right in that they are the people who will be able to teach me what I need/want at this stage. Plus . . . can you tell how much I love them. Squeezes!

In the same vein, having their outside opinions on how things looked (they had no dog in this fight at all) were very favorable of me and what I’ve been working on. They said I didn’t yell much at all or inappropriately, and that I was handling well enough that in time I could be as good if not better than some of the best people they saw that day.

Pause: I’m not gunning for anyone, nor do I need to do that, but it tells my little heart that has a hard time evaluating myself objectively, that I’m improving in the ways I want to and that it’s in the right direction. While this trial was really, really fun, the reality is – I’m not going to be a top finals handler or a trainer in many, many years (I have businesses to run and babies to make and mountains to climb). But remember my post on “Best in the World?” That’s pretty cool that I am on that path at least. May we all strive to figure out what that means to us.
And, finally, what was the BEST part about this trial?
When they were doing awards on the final day . . . they called out Roland’s Jesse’s score . . . and she’d QUALIFIED! The WTCh was finished!

Roland has always been really supportive of me – he calls me to see how I felt our trials went, he lets me know when they open, and he’s also a lot to do with why Rippa and I are working well together. He’s given me some advice on chilling that has really worked.

So, when I called him after awards, I called him up:

”Hey Roland, just wanted to say I was so glad to see you this weekend.”
He starts earnestly and sweetly telling me the same . . . and then “NO I’M NOT. JESSE QUALIFIED. YOU GOT YOUR WTCH!”
And, folks, I had the honor of being there when Trish WTCh’d Duke, but you have not heard or felt the joy of a man who thought he had a ways to go find out his end goal had been reached. I don’t want to embarrass him, but he’s been trying so hard to play it cool and it was so awesome to share the psych that I’m still tearing up as I write this.
That’s why we do this stuff. It’s just dogs and them doing their thing. It’s not a be all and end all and you don’t have to earn your place to have a nice dog or do well. You just have to be cool and honest and try your best and that’s all anyone can ask.

What’s next? Work has me swamped until the end of June. I’ll keep up with practice and such, but no trials till Fall, probably. Maybe a roadtrip?

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.

In which I create a stockdog rubric

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A completely finished  stockdog will have all the components below:

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

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

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

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

Gratitude and Getting There

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




Wait for it . . .

 

Wait for it . . .

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty nice, yeah?

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

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

What we have been working on is outruns and fetching.

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

Here’s the setup:

Cows                       Me                                               Shannon                Rippa

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

And then:

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

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

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

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

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

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!

Duck Husbandry and Philosophy

I have ALWAYS loved taking care of animals. I’m not sure what it is about me, but people feel hardwired to be a certain way, and my way is – without a shred of doubt – super agrarian, and moreover, shepherdy, not farmy.

I  do garden, but I don’t spend a lot of time REALLY caring about the garden. I water, I weed, I see what comes up, I work slowly to get better at it, but I’m not 100% there.

But animals? Yes, I am. Growing up we didn’t have 4-H or anything like that, but had we? I’d have filled my backyard with all the things I have now and moreso. Mom, can I have a goat? PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE? I kind of feel like that now, but with a balance of wanting freedom to leave and go on adventures without being saddled to the animals.

Shannon and Dustin (along with meeting Brad and Alana Holstein) are showing me I can have my animals and my freedom and not necessarily live on a ranch to do it. Both of this couples manage land and stock off their own property and despite everyone telling me it couldn’t be done around here, it is. It’s all a very good education and whether it comes to fruition or not, I am working quietly on learning how to “farm out” livestock for fun and profit. Funny how I went to school for this and yet the animal science classes taught me nothing and made me feel like it was hopeless. School, clearly, isn’t the best avenue for all things you want in life, right?

One of the first steps to this was getting the never to ask my good friend Jennifer if she’d be up for housing my ducks on her property. I don’t go out every day, so I’m definitely adding to her chore list. She gets duck eggs out of the deal, but it’s not 100% a fair trade, though I suspect her motivations are much like mine, and I think the whole family appreciates them, too.

So I’m not taking care of them day in and day out, though I feed them and whatever when I do visit (I try for at least once a week, but lately with work and guests it’s been hard), but they’re still a good learning opportunity for me.

When I first got them, I really didn’t know if or when to work them, and they would get really stuck in the house and not want to leave. Kathy told me to feed them in the field and put a pool out there, which I did and it helped.

Since then, I guess I spend a lot more time wondering how to get the most out of them – and sitting in the field just watching them do their thing is about as good as praying or meditation has ever been for me. It’s as good as sitting on the top of a mountain with a friend after a big climb (I’m into rock climbing). But it’s effortless. The choice to sit in a field with ducks in the morning is a stronger draw than anything else in my life right now.

So, as I sat there letting the duckies play in their mid-field pool with Rippa on a downstay for a half hour or so to make sure they ENJOYED being outside their pen before we moved them, I got to thinking.

If I ever give lessons, I’m going to force people to spend time with the stock themselves. I feel like all this time working on my own has made be understand them better and empathize with them. Having my own ducks makes me understand their motivations and how to move them (sometimes just removing pressure is all you need), and also what they want out of life aside from not getting trampled by dogs. Some of the more valuable stockmanship I got from Kathy was her asking me to feed her animals when she was gone and moving around in there just interacting with them. Moreso with Stephanie’s sheep when I have to sort my own – I learn personalities, motivations, and reactions.

The more you work with an animal the more it becomes part of the equation for you. It’s not just about you and the dog, it’s about the lives that come between you in the moment. Their fears and hopes and what you can do to entice them. A good quiet work helps them achieve their own goals (of not getting eaten, left behind, or starving) just as it can your own.

(Here, the ducks want back in their home and away from the squeeze job of both me and Rippa. I’m PSYCHIC.)

The longer I do this, the less I want to be a part of the “dog” culture and more I want to be just in the fields tending my animals. Everybody gets into stockdogs for their own reasons – but I’m pretty sure I know why I’m here, and it has nothing to do with the breed or my ego or the dog club or the people – but just because I like finding ways of interacting with the animals under my charge and getting better and better at that. I loved conformation, I loved agility, and I loved training in general, but not enough to spend time doing it every day, taking lessons, spending money. But here, I do, and I think it’s because there’s something inside of me that wants to be around as much life as possible – and the kind of life that relies on human care.

Here’s a little video of us working them prior to the trial coming up. I’m working on being quiet and calm to model it for Rippa. You’ll hear me sucking in periodically – it’s a weird little tic I got from training long ago that warns a dog they are on thin ice: and it works. And it looks real quiet to the casual observer.

Oh, and PS, the Fury is doing awesome. It’s hard to keep her quiet, but she’s using her leg to walk around and only pulls it up if she’s moving fast (she’s not supposed to, but . . . she’s Fury sometimes you can’t stop it in time).

Here’s my almost-12-year-old dog, a little less than two weeks post traumatic orthopedic surgery . . . on my flipping desk. NOT OKAY. Back in the ex pen she goes. But, it’s funny, you have to admit.

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.