Action Day Rewind: If I Knew Then What I Know Now

An early Show N Go photo (April 2013) of the little guy... he doesn't jump this way anymore, but I think it's the cutest.
(photo credit: Juanda Anderson)

My agility history spans less than a year and a half.  So I can't related with those who say "if only I knew my dog shouldn't have been jumping 30"" or "if only I knew that if I did a blind cross the earth wouldn't open up and swallow me alive."  I'm learning with my first dog, at a time when the sport is exploding, and at a time where mutts can compete in any agility venue they so choose (except for, perhaps, large mutts in TDAA).

What I do wish I knew then, and by then I mean May 2012 is this:

ALL DOGS ARE DIFFERENT.  AND LEARN DIFFERENTLY.

It's not a novel concept in the slightest.  When I was in school, there were many students that could function well in a traditional classroom environment.  And then there were others that couldn't.  And in college my roommate worked best at the library, others in the privacy of their own room, and me... in the communal dormitory lounge with the television airing Friends reruns in the background.  In senior year of college I completed my take-home Art History final exam (a result of the NYC Transit strikes stranding my professor in Queens) in J's dormitory lounge with some of his roommates getting drunk while watching those trippy Microsoft screen savers.  I got an A, but likely would not have performed as well if I were to have taken the exam in a library setting.  

Yet for an inexperienced dog owner, without the knowledge resources, it can be a difficult and frustrating experience to try to fit into a certain agility "mold" when you don't know what's out there.  And since many of us start in a group class setting, sometimes the training method of the closest/most recommended/what have you training facility may not be the best fit for you or your dog.  But you don't know until your dog shuts down or you come home in tears or every other dog is progressing while yours is chasing squirrels in the park.

Despite Murray's affinity for barking, he's a soft dog.  I didn't know what the term "soft dog" even meant when I started agility.  Heck, I didn't know that agility was about speed or even that there were full courses at first!  The place where I first started training seemed appealing because it was close and affordable and they said they really trained for agility.  The trainer had far more biddable dogs than Murray and not soft dogs in the slightest.  So training was more for these dogs that could redo something five times without having their feelings hurt.  My dog started doing things more cautiously, and therefore more slowly.  Or he'd shut down, or sniff, of bark at the unleashed dog who's walking around in the middle of the course.  But it took me a while to realize that this approach to training wasn't what was right for my dog, because I didn't know at first that there were so many different ways to train.

When I started working with my current trainer, I realized that there were more effective training methods for my dog.  If my dog made a mistake, it was likely my fault (especially if it was a blatant handling error!) so he should be rewarded.  Everything is 100% positive.  And we focused on drive over accuracy in many occasions.  As we continued to work with her, Murray got faster and more confident and less reactive in an agility setting.  Agility is totally his happy place.  When I started competing in earnest in May 2013, I saw the differences in handling systems, actions in the ring, and training between different exhibitors.  Some prefer to do blind crosses everywhere, some make their dogs drop after a contact, some yell, some don't use words, some party only after a Q, others are always exuberant, some will run with their dog if he breaks a start line stay, others will pull their dog from the course if the same were to happen.  Everyone has different goals and criteria and think of their dog in a different light.  So how they train and how they want their dog to learn is different.  But I just thought that my pokey reactive dog was "not fit for this" because I didn't know better.

One of the turning points for me was attending a show-n-go with advanced competitors and seeing what agility looked like and what I could aspire to.  So if I were to start all over again I would attend a trial or show n go and watch.  See which teams draw my eye (either because the dog is super fast or because they look like they're having fun or because someone says "watch this dog/handler").  Ask that exhibitor who they train with (just not right before they enter the ring!) - most will take a compliment well and volunteer plenty of information.  There's a high probability that someone who has yet to do any agility may not know what their goals are and be drawn to the flashiest dog there (who's on some crazy international team) but by attending a trial you can see what agility looks like and find out about local trainers.  Also, it's okay to move on if the class you start with isn't working for you, whether it be because of the environment, the trainer, or the handling system.

As we've gotten more entrenched in the agility world, I've not only gotten to understand which training methods are best for my dog but also which are the best for me.  And as we've dialed this in, agility has become more and more exciting for our team.

Action Day Rewind: Why Volunteer?

Sometimes my mind gets all over the place when I lack organization and structure.  So to compile my thoughts, I turned to the Dog Agility Blog Events Action Days to find some prompts.  Hence, Action Day Rewind.  The first is from 2011: Why Volunteer?

I have been volunteering at trials since the first one I entered.  I really enjoy volunteering at trials, for the following reasons:

1. The Murr is calmer (and can rest) if I am not sitting right by his crate.  If I'm right there, he will bark at those passing by.  But he will sleep or rest if I'm away.  So happy Murr = happy me = one more volunteer!

2. I am calmer if I'm working.  Because then I'm not anxiously sitting next to dozens of other exhibitors who are all pumping adrenaline through their bodies like woah and getting nervous or pacing.  Instead I'm doing something slightly more productive and can take my mind off the runs at hand.

3. I learn SO much in the ring.  Jump setting is the perfect place to observe (scribing is the worst, unless if you want to be well versed in judge's hand signals).  I can watch different handling styles, strategies in point games, and learn the course better just by working in the ring.  Things that I may not be ballsy enough to do on a run (reverse spin?) I get excited about when I see in action - especially when it is executed with great success.

4.  I watch YouTube videos of agility for fun at home, so why not get to see a variety of dogs get to run... in real life, and while getting some sun or breeze?

5.  I get to know other dogs and exhibitors by working in the ring.

6.  The vouchers help me justify entering trials (it's not that much money!)... and it's nice not having to worry about packing drinks because they'll quench the workers' thirst.

Yet many are wary to volunteer, and I totally understand that.  If your dog isn't well crate trained or has separation anxiety, they'll be barking their head off (or trying to escape) and that's more stressful for both you and the dog.  So being away from your dog is not beneficial.  Many are afraid of taking a job that they'll "mess up."  None of the jobs are rocket science, but write an extra "R" on the scribe sheet or confuse someone at the gate and you fear for your life.  If you always see the usual suspects in the ring, you may not feel like your needed - or wanted.  Or maybe you want the weekends to relax and not do manual labor, but rather just chill with your dog.  I think these are all valid concerns.  With that said, if you're standing outside the gate watching the class ahead of you and they're short a jump setter (and the judge is setting the jumps themselves), climb over the netting and jump set a class.  You may even get lunch for it!

I've recently started experiencing a sort of "volunteer burnout" despite not trialing for very long.  Because I have stayed through the end of the novice class at every gosh-darn trial, I would come home late every weekend.  So, just like everything else, it's about balancing.  In prioritizing where I will work, where I won't work, and where I will work just a teensy weensy bit, I have established some criteria:

1. If it's a club that I belong to, I will work and plan to spend the day.

2. If the group is appreciative of its volunteers, and puts them in jobs where they'd like to work, I will participate.

3. If the group compensates its workers well (the going rate here is ~$5/class) I will work through the end of Excellent, unless if they are *super* nice in which case I'll stay longer.

4. If I am more than an hour's drive away, I will leave after I'm done (see #2 and #3) so as to not have an even longer day.

Being nice and appreciative goes a long way.  Even at $5/class, that's less than most of us make at our day jobs, and this is a "fun day."  So I have to enjoy working, and I hate to say it but I don't want to be setting and resetting a chute at 3pm on a Sunday afternoon when I've written on my volunteer form that I am game for "anything except chute."  But thanking workers, whether it be a pat on the back or a worker raffle, putting them in jobs they want, and showing other forms of appreciation makes me want to come back and work more classes.

I would encourage others to volunteer in whatever capacity they deem appropriate, as if the club or show chair has to hire outside workers, the entry fees could ultimately increase.  So volunteer where you can, and if you're running the show thank your workers - you may wind up with some more eager beavers the next time around!