To Seminar, or Not to Seminar, That is the Question

As a kid, I liked going to school.  I was the nerdy kid who took extra classes instead of study hall in high school, had even nerdier extra-curriculars in college, and still gets excited when there's conferences and symposiums to attend in my professional field.  And I enjoy training classes.  I'm in that category of people who get more of a rush training than trialing... and I get a pretty big rush trialing.   I'm also "that girl" who gets a little bit starstruck in life.  Which can be difficult when you live in big cities where a C-list celebrity may be sitting alongside you at a restaurant.   So, I would be naturally pre-disposed to wanting to attend seminars.  Because, (a) they're essentially classes on steroids and (b) there may be an agility star teaching them!  

Yet I find myself being incredibly selective about which seminars I will enroll in.

This started shortly after I began training in agility with Murray.  We were an incredibly novice team, but were already slightly addicted. Jon and I were going to my in-laws for Christmas break.  In years past, I would get a little stir-crazy in the days following Christmas.  So when I found out that a star-studded agility person (OMG they have DVDs!  and books!) was hosting a seminar, advertised as a novice class, and a mere hour from my in-laws I got excited.  I did my due diligence to make sure that it was really okay for a newbie like myself.  After I got that confirmation, several times over, I enrolled.  It was going to be the highlight of my Christmas break.

Murray completing an exercise at the awesome Nancy Gyes/Jim Basic Seminar
at Happy Dog (photo credit: Mia Grant)

Rather than feeling excited and motivated following the seminar, as I had going into it, I left feeling defeated - almost second guessing whether I should bother continuing in the sport.  

Why did I feel that way?

• I was not physically nor mentally prepared for the seminar.  Although it was billed as a novice/foundations class, in reality, most of the students in it were very experienced handlers with Masters-level dogs.  The instructor also had a relationship with almost every other student present, and so the seminar was taught to their level, leaving me in the dust, since several concepts went over my head. 

• We did not receive our "fair-share" of one-on-one instruction.  This seminar had 12 students over the course of two days, which is pretty standard.  The facility was large, so we were divided into smaller working groups for some drills.  My group was never visited by the instructor, so the instructor did not realize that I was struggling until partway through Day 2, when a group member finally called her over for help.  

• The instructor did not adjust any training to apply to the different skill levels present. When it became apparent that my dog was not able to do most of the exercises, rather than break down some of the exercises into more digestible portions, we instead were given a jump stanchion and a jump bump and I was instructed to just have my dog go back and forth over that jump bump for the remainder of the seminar.

• There was not a diverse group of dogs participating.  One nice thing about classes and seminars is when you have others that you can really learn from by observing.  I personally learn a lot by watching dogs that stride similarly to mine but are a little drivier.  I don't learn as much by watching a performance-bred border collie jumping 22".  I love watching them run, but I don't learn as much from that team as it will never resemble my own.  In this particular seminar, almost the entire class consisted of high drive border collies (it's never a good thing when someone actually asks you "is eight inches really a jump height?")

There are things that I would have done differently, in hindsight, to have made the most of an otherwise disappointing situation.  I could not have controlled the students, and had done my due diligence to ensure that he was okay for the class (even though he clearly was not!), so I don't feel guilty about being in the wrong class for our level at the time.  I do wish, however, that instead of feeling intimidated by being in the presence of some big-name agility person, that I had spoken up for myself on day one, identified my shortcomings, and insisted on a more appropriate lesson plan. While that may sound pushy, any seminar is an investment - in time and money - and if that wasn't being volunteered to me, I could have advocated for my dog and kept him happy by seeking out help, rather than relying on the two individuals who were randomly selected for my group.

Not at a seminar! Photo credit: Clark Kranz

Although this was my first seminar as an active participant, I have attended subsequent seminars with other instructors, and have had very positive experiences in those.  The sting from the first one, however, have made me very picky about the subsequent seminars I have chosen to enroll in.  Having spoken to other friends who have "less-than-flashy" dogs (and further confirmed by the responses to a recent post on Daisy Peel's Facebook page regarding seminars), I get the sense that I am not alone in struggling with enrolling in seminars.  Now, when considering enrolling in seminars, these are the questions I try to answer:

• Why does this seminar appeal to me? What is the seminar subject?  Does it address my needs? If the seminar was about Gamblers skills, and I only competed in AKC Standard and JWW, I might pass (Jim Basic - can you please come back and teach your gamblers course again?).  If it's about a brand new & improved handling SYSTEM, and I'm happy with mine, I will pass.  If it's about a more specific issue, one which I am looking to improve upon, then my interest has been piqued.  Just because the seminar exists, doesn't mean that I must attend it.  I will get more out of a seminar that's addressing one of my training gaps, or building on something that I'm looking to build on, than a catch-all foundations seminar for a totally different system or a very specific seminar on something that does not apply to my team.
• Who is teaching the seminar?  Does s/he have experience teaching/running dogs similar to mine?  What kind of style does s/he have?  Some instructors have brand names, while others are more locally or regionally known.  In Southern California, we can enroll in seminars instructed by our regular, local instructors, in addition to nationally or internationally renown coaches and competitors (not that the two are mutually exclusive - we have lots of talent in this area!)  Rather than getting jazzed by someone's competitive track record, I'm more interested to know about their system or style and who they instruct.  I usually ask my instructors, or other friends with dogs similar to mine.  If it sounds like the style may conflict with ours, then I'll pass. Likewise, if 99% of their students run dogs that are vastly different from mine, I'll pass. There's probably a reason why they aren't teaching medium-speed doxie mixes.
• Who is in my class?  Unlike a lesson, in a seminar you are generally observing more than you are working.  Are there going to be students in there who have the same issues that I have?  Are there going to be students who run dogs similar to mine?  I usually ask the seminar host about the other dogs enrolled to make sure that it's not 11 border collies and my guy.  Likewise, sometimes the "steady eddie" dogs are grouped with the "young and the restless" dogs.  In this case, I will ask the seminar host why they are being grouped together.  If there's a good reason (i.e. we are doing short sequences to keep the steadies motivated and the young'ns brains from exploding) I may still participate... but if there isn't a thoughtful reason for grouping these two dog types, I'll turn down the opportunity, to avoid the risk of my dog getting a disproportionate amount of time. 
• Am I ready for this class?  This is where I must be honest with myself.  Last year, there were two seminars being offered at one facility - "Almost Masters" and "High Drive Masters."  The seminar host did not know me nor my dog, albeit my instructor trains with her.  So when I expressed interest in the class, I was very honest about our abilities - that we "met the criteria" for the latter one (we had our Masters titles) but that we were not a "high drive" team.  I also tipped her off to my instructor.  She determined that the "Almost Masters" class was the better fit for us, and it was.  Rather than trying to get into the most advanced class, we were in the best class for our needs at the time, and we got a lot of value out of the instruction.  I believe that we would have struggled and not learned as much in the more advanced class.  I would rather be honest and not get an answer that I like - whether it means excluding myself from a seminar entirely, or being told to be in a class that I don't want to take - and not take the seminar, than take one and regret it because we were over- or under- prepared.
• Do I know anyone who has taken a seminar with this person before?  What is their structure?  Any other feedback?  Each instructor has a different "sweet spot."  Some are amazing teaching in a private lesson setting, but have difficulty keeping control of a larger group.  Some excel at shorter, half-day seminars while others are better spreading their instruction over two days.  Some may be best teaching via online courses.  I like to get opinions from friends about the structure of the seminars and whether they felt that it was conducive for learning before enrolling myself.  I also like to find out the seminar size (I'd rather do fewer hours with fewer students than a longer day with double the students) and format (instruction then everyone getting a turn?  small groups with instructor circulating?).

After establishing these questions to determine whether or not to enroll in a seminar, I have had several very positive seminar experiences.  Some of them are with our regular instructors, where we have the benefit of them knowing our team and teaching to our needs.  Some have been instructors who have traveled in, who have some household name for something in the agility world, and have bestowed on us some new skills, or at the very least, a new set of eyes.  I am grateful to have the opportunity to immerse myself in seminars with my amazing little teammate, and to come away with more fun homework.

Murray and the other small dog participants from Melissa Henning's wonderful handling seminar, also at Happy Dog.

I think that it is necessary for students to do their due diligence before trying to enroll in a seminar, so that they can get the maximum benefit and also focus on seminars that are most appropriate to their teams.  However, I also think that some responsibility falls on the instructors to help students get the most out of their experience.

So, seminar presenters, think about your students - before, during, and after - as individuals being pieced together.  You likely won't remember many of us months down the road - especially if we aren't local to you or don't work with you regularly.  But every student can both add value and gain value at a seminar.  Most people without the "flashy" dogs don't have delusions of grandeur - they love the game and want to improve their team.  Recognize that and appreciate that said students are willing to invest time and money to go from being a B to a B+ team - not everyone can be on the A team.  Likewise, appreciate the stellar dogs, or the "high potential" dogs.

Instructors: it's okay to be honest about your preferences.  If there's a particular sub-set of potential students that you really just don't like or feel comfortable working with - admit it!  If you only want to work with dogs of a certain size or speed, or ones that have particular sets of foundations, own up to it.  If you wind up showing some preference at a seminar, it will be noticeable (agility folks are perceptive!) and if you continuously return to the area, over time there will be a de facto student type attending your seminars... and then another type who does not talk so positively about you.  I think that most would prefer being told they're "not right" to participate in a particular seminar over showing up and feeling like they're the lesser one in the group.

Focus on giving each student their "fair-share" - if there are eight students in four hours, no one expects to have the exact. same. amount. of. time.  That would be silly.  But if one student is getting through the courses fairly clean, find the points of weakness and revisit those during their turn. Because that student didn't sign up just to show that they could be accurate - they came to learn. And be thoughtful of who you are grouping together, as - quite likely - the person with the flashy young pup isn't aspiring to have a medium-speed adult dog.

And, sometimes, things will not go according to plan.  You may have thought you had a Novice class, and then all these Masters students show up.  Tailor accordingly - stick with your original lesson plan, and add some new challenges for the dogs that are "above and beyond."  But don't just leave the one team who's "not like the other" hanging and feeling lost.

Most importantly - both instructor and students - enjoy yourselves!  Because agility is fun, and learning is fun.  And being in an agility seminar sure beats being in a statistics recitation or chemistry lab.

This post is part of the Dog Agility Blog Events Blog Event on Continuing Education.  For more posts on the subject, click here. 

Dogwalk Re-Training - ~4 weeks in

We've been working on the dogwalk for nearly 4 weeks now. A few observations.  Again, all of the videos are being posted here - Dogwalk Re-Train.

1. I'm going to do a 2on/2off.  I had initially planned to do running, but I don't know if I'll ever fully trust the criteria, and as a result may ultimately slow Murray down.  So I think 2on/2off may be faster for him, even though I can almost always beat him to the bottom of the dogwalk.

2. Training is fun!  It definitely helps getting me to not hit the snooze button multiple times, as I usually try to do.  And gets me excited to do something productive with the little man when I get home after a day of work.

3.  Don't piss off the neighbors.  Apparently they are not a big fan of early morning training sessions.  So we're working on foundations indoors in the morning, and ramp work in the evening.

4.  Love your dog, enjoy the process.  I love how hard The Murr tries, and he is more and more accepting of my imperfections.  Such a fun set of games we get to play with one another and I love watching his problem solving ability flourish and his enthusiasm grow.

5. Record keeping is great, but shouldn't get you down.  I thought I saw improvement and went with it.  Then I watched a week's worth of video to see that we were hovering around the 40% success rate for a week... followed by a spike to over 80%.  By keeping track of statistics without calculating them, I was able to stay motivated about our training without feeling discouraged by a low success rate.

You Know You're A Crazy Dog Lady When...

On Halloween, a mere few days into our new training regime, my in-laws came to our house for dinner. My husband's family has a Pizza Friday tradition - one that only resurrects itself while in the auspices of his parents.  If we go visit them, I know that we will be eating pizza come Friday.  Likewise, Jon insisted that we order pizza.

We moved only a few months ago, so our normal go-tos have shifted.  Since we live in a big city, the 3 mile move changes our restaurant radius quite staggeringly.  And pizza is one of those things that we have not found a replacement for (yet).  We don't have the same pizza options as my New York hometown, where we could sneeze and find a great slice, but we can also do better than Domino's.  

I knew that Blaze Pizza was nearby and passable, so I opted to go there.  That way everyone could get whatever permutation of pizza they wanted without having to satisfy another person's dietary restrictions or aversions.  

So why am I writing about getting pizza?

Because of this:

As we all sat around the table eating pizza, I looked at the two-piece box.  Or, more specifically, the lid.  It's low-lipped - perfect for my lowriding pup.  So while everyone else was chowing down, I was grabbing the lids to stockpile for our training exercises.

Yes, I believe this defines me as the crazy dog lady.  Apparently I'm not the only one who's repurposing food packaging for dog uses - I have since learned that El Pollo Loco tortilla bags are great for dog waste!

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There are other little details that I had to work out while figuring out our training regime.  Namely how to honestly assess where I was at, and what to feed The Murr.  Because I'm doing contact training for the first time, I was not confident in my eye.  So I needed to figure out when we are actually meeting criteria versus when I think we are - and also keep record.  Hello tripod.

Being able to tape our sessions is extremely helpful.  I can watch each session and then keep track of hits versus misses.  It also makes me accountable for sticking to my schedule.  Even better, a friend of mine is also planning to start a re-train, so she's watching the videos too to see the process.  I made a playlist of our training (here), and set my YouTube Capture to automatically load our daily videos into the training playlist.  

And then there's the food.  Murray is a mere 10 pounds, and eats about 4 ounces of food per day.  Plus, he eats a raw diet since his teeth get all yucky on kibble.  Given the number of repetitions necessary, I was concerned that we would have to go to really low value treats so as to not overfeed.  Then, while perusing my local pet store, I found this food - OC Raw Dog.

Their "meaty rox" are pretty small and (when frozen or semi-frozen) can break into smaller pieces.  Easy to use for a full training session with The Murr despite his low food intake.  I liked the ingredients in here, and it's made pretty close to here.  Yes, it's more expensive than my normal combination of chicken necks & Small Batch, but it's high value to the Murr and can be used as both a treat and a meal.  

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So that's where we're at.  We have the supplies, and I'm a crazy dog lady.  Undisputed.

Picking the Right Method for Human and Dog

I last left off with my decision to complete a re-train Murr's dogwalk, and had come to a good "trial stopping point" to commit to the training.  Next, was finding the right method for our team.   Way back before I started agility, I'm sure that the method you trained was the one that your instructor knew.  Now, with the interwebz, online courses, books, DVDs, and instructors who have become household names, there are more decisions.  I feel like if I'm committing to a training method I need to be on-board with it from day one.

The first major split in the decision tree is stopped versus running.  I don't think that a stopped contact is necessarily the slower of the two - a true 2on/2off is incredibly fast and drivey into that bottom position.  But I can usually get ahead of Murray, and had no compelling reason to switch from a "non-stopped dogwalk" to a stopped 2o/2o.  So running it is.

Next, has been deciding on the method of instruction.  There are plenty of big names in the agility world offering their contact training instruction - some of which can be conducted through online classrooms.  The "big 3" I've been made aware of are Silvia Trkman, Dawn Weaver, and Daisy Peel.  I quickly wrote off Silvia's because (a) my friend warned me about the amount of repetitions required and (b) after watching "Ready, Steady, Go" I had a hard time digesting her information in small fragments.  That seems to be the "catch" to me - I need little building blocks, but ones that are clear in direction; an amorphous approach was not going to cut it for me.  My instructor generally teaches Daisy's method, and walked me through the steps.  I have several friends who have developed great running dogwalks with their dogs through Daisy's method - and at Cynosport the best dogwalk I saw was from one of Daisy's students... I mean, it was literally jaw-dropping amazing.  However, the more I got to understand the process, the less I felt like it was the right approach for me.  I don't think my eye is trained enough to see the split-stride, and my personality is such that I am soft - I'm more likely to over-reward my dog and with something like the SS, I thought I'd wind up frustrated when I couldn't train my eye to see a black-and-white criterion.

The criteria for Dawn's method, on the other hand, seemed more black-and-white in the manner it was presented to me.  I enjoyed learning the A-frame through the "bounce box" method (Rachel Sanders) because there was a physical piece of criterion in play (dog goes into PVC box, dog comes out of PVC box).  Starting with foot targets, to me, seemed less abstract, and was therefore the better fit.

I'm not far along enough to know if this truly is the best method for Murray & me.  Likewise, I am doing this training locally, rather than directly from Dawn through her online classsroom, so it's more likely that I'm going to be training based on an application of Dawn's method (which I prefer, since my instructor knows me well and can therefore help adjust to our team).  Finally, it's very likely that various approaches would work for us, and that the other methods that I mentioned are just as effective - there are several exhibitors I know who have used any permutation of the above training methods with great success.  This method, when the various options were presented, just felt like the one that I could comprehend best and could most clearly communicate to my dog.

I started the re-train on October 25, and got a tri-pod to start recording our training sessions on October 29.  We are doing two short sessions (for breakfast & dinner) daily.  In my next post I'll give a Week 1 summary and provide some videos.

If It Ain't Broke...

Like most other novice (or rather any) handlers out there, I have training gaps with The Murr.  Some training gaps are easy to plug, others more difficult.  Sometimes a band-aid will suffice, other times major surgery needs to be performed.  And it's up to the handler if they want to deal with the training issue in the first place.  Sometimes it's a combination of cost versus benefit.  For example, if one's goal is to make the world team, the dog is fast enough to be competitive at that level, and the gap is that he's a bar knocker, most people will put in the effort to improving the dog's jumping to clear the bars.  On the other hand, if one's goal is to earn a MACH, the dog is fairly slow, and the gap is that the dog doesn't have a super-drivey teeter, not as many people would spend the time and effort to retrain the contact.

To an extent, I'm in the latter of those two scenarios with Murray's dogwalk.

I never trained a dogwalk with Murray.  His criteria, to date, has been "go up, go across, go down."  When we started in class, he was very slow.  And when you are literally walking across the dogwalk and are about 13 or 14" long, it's difficult to miss the yellow.  His A-frame was taught from the ground up, and is the contact that I'm most proud of with him.  The teeter was his archnemesis for a while, and he's been reinforced so heavily on it, that he is starting to show drive towards it.  Meanwhile, he's always *liked* the dogwalk, he just doesn't know what the judges think he should be doing on it!  So we do get the occasional launch.

I may not have criteria, but I sure love the dogwalk!

Occasional is the imperative, here.  His "hit" rate in trials is well above 90%.  I feel confident in saying that he's NQ'd more frequently for missing a weave pole than he has for missing a dogwalk contact.  His lack of a perfect dogwalk is not the one thing keeping him from being a Nationals finalist, or winning his class at an AKC show, or any other competitive check-marks; with a perfect dogwalk, he still lacks the speed to be a truly competitive dog.  So in many regards we could get through the rest of his agility career with his current dogwalk (and the babysitting that comes along with it) and he'd likely retire with the same accolades as he would with a stellar, trained dogwalk.

But there's also the emotional element to it.  The two times that Murray has been called on his A-frame, I shook it off like it was no big deal.  In fact, I had no idea he missed his contact until someone informed me that they saw a judge's hand go up.  When Murr misses a weave pole, or pops out at 10, it doesn't bother me in the slightest.  I know that he knows how to do them; I trust him enough to let him find his entries, run ahead, cross or whatever else may need to be done, so the occasional missed pole is just that.  But when he misses a dogwalk contact I shudder.  Because I know that it's a training gap rearing its ugly head, and that - in reality - it's destined to happen.  It's not some freak occurance like an off-stride on the occasional A-frame, but rather the consequence of not teaching my dog how to properly run the contact.

The dogwalk issue came to a head at the USDAA Regionals in April, when Murr missed 3 of his 4 dogwalks over the course of the weekend.  Granted, the first one was the result of my manic behavior in Team Gamblers, and the subsequent ones were due to me being so worried that I was essentially pushing him off of the contacts.  But it was the first time that it seemed like a real problem, and something that needed to be addressed.  Not for any true extrinsic reasons, but more to keep the stress away from the handler.

After Regionals, I spoke with my instructor about training his dogwalk contact.  I'm fortunate in that I train with people who respect me enough to be honest and upfront. And the honest truth was that in order to retrain the dogwalk, I would need to withdraw from trialing for at least a few months.  At the same time, both my instructor and I acknowledged that in order to be able to qualify for AKC Nationals - one of my goals for the year - starting a re-train in May would create a direct conflict.  So I held off, putting band-aids on the dogwalk to get through the NAC qualifying, with few "major issues" flaring up.

With any extrinsic goals that I had set now complete, post-Cynosport was the time to start the re-train.  I've committed to reducing the trialing substantially (only doing a few dogwalks in USDAA Tourney classes to finish the Qs we'll need for next year), and have committed to putting in the time - and patience - it truly takes to train a polished behavior.  That's the tougher part... I'm not the most patient individual and I'm treading new water with this type of training.  The first thing I asked of my instructor, though, was to identify the different methods to training a dogwalk - from Step 1 to the end - so that we could determine the best approach for our little team...

The Murr is Not Impressed

Hey, McKayla...

source: ABC15

The Murr is not impressed either.

After several years of living in crap apartments with literal slumlords and loud neighbors and no outdoor space we got our own little matchbox, and moved in last month.

The new sheruff in town.

It had everything on our not-so-extensive wish list.  There was only one thing I didn't like about it...

As a kid, I was envious of anyone with a swimming pool.  But as an old lady trapped in a not-yet-30 yr old's body adult it seemed like an awful expense with a lot of maintenance to boot.  And, when you live in a major city, having a pool in your backyard means that your pool IS your backyard.  So no A-frame for us.  

Our realtor (someone we met through agility) had walked us through many an open house - some with perfectly square (albeit still small lot) yards.  "Oh, this is where the teeter could go!" "You could fit a full set of weaves here."  But the realistic part of me knew that it's better to pick the house you love with the yard you're meh about over a house that needs work... or is too expensive... or in a not great location.  Because, heck, we could just get rid of the pool.

That is, until my husband jumped for in the first time and declared that there was no way in hell that we were going to dig this pool up because it was oh-so-wonderful.  Chance of future A-frame?  Shot.

When I told my agility friends that we bought our first house, they'd ask about the future agility yard, to which I responded that no, no yard because we have a pool.  And they all understand that where we live it's yard or pool - not both.  But instead of them joining in the "woe is me for not having an agility yard first-world-problems pity party" they'd exclaim "you have a pool?!?!"  To which I again would reiterate that yes, our backyard IS a pool.  

And then they'd pause.  And it would be...

"Can I bring my dog to swim in it?"

Half joking sometimes.  Not joking others.

Because, yeah, low-impact conditioning.  Sometimes better than having an A-frame out back.  

Except that The Murr is not that dog who thinks that dock diving is the best thing ever.  It took months and boatloads of treats for him to do this by his own wanting.

So, the mission of the past month has been to get The Murr to swim.  Because if we're not using our backyard for explicit agility training, let's have one well conditioned dog... and put this money pit pool to good use.  And no, no adorable videos of him with the look of determination in his eyes, because I'm too busy in the water with him, holding up a piece of hamburger for him to swim to.  Really high value treats are the only things worth swimming to.  But he's getting the hang of it.  

Our approach has generally been this: 

1. Get on our swimsuits and put some super-high-value treats into Tupperware.

2. Bring the Murr into the water with us (can't say he loves step 2).

3. Line ourselves up on the short sides of the pool.  One of us holds up treats, and the other one releases him.

4.  As my husband says, "the look of determination in his eyes is creeping me out."  

5.  Rinse and repeat for about a 5 minute session.  By the end of the time, Murray is excited.  With some restrained recall he is just as excited as when we do start line restraints - barking, motoring, actually having a good time.

And the little bugger can move - he's getting the hang of it.  He doesn't love swimming yet, but is liking the treats more than he's disliking swimming.  He probably just doesn't love it because he truly looks like a drowned sewer rat when wet. 

But maybe that's okay that he doesn't love it, because this is what he did on move-in day.

**This post is part of Dog Agility Blog Action Day.  To read other posts about what agility addicts are doing outside of the ring, click here.**

MACH Murray!

Introducing...

MACH Paved With Good Intentions!

Pictured here with some of his fan club!

When we decided to try to qualify for AKC Nationals, I realized that there was only about 100 MACH points difference between what he needed for Nationals and for a MACH.  Since he was picking up QQs fairly consistently, might as well finish off the title.  It wasn't until after we cleared the last bar, however, that I realized just how big his fan club was!  For a little sewer rat, the boy has lots of folks who love him.

In honor of his MACH I put together a video of us from his early days until now.  It's amazing to me watching his improvement over the course of the past year and a half - and especially the past several months. Good little bugger!

2015 Nationals Here We Come!

In my (completely) unbiased opinion, Murray is a fantastic little agility dog. But a Nationally competitive dog he is not, nor will he ever be. I know that sounds horrible coming from his #1 fan and teammate, but hear me out. The Murr has shaved off considerable time from his typical course runs - where he used to struggle to make course time in Masters JWW, he is now accruing double digit MACH points. I figured that we would be 40 QQs in before he'd have close to enough points for a MACH; he hit his 20th QQ a couple of weeks ago and now has just over 70 points to go. So he's definitely in the running for Most Improved Player, and he has astonished me and several of my agility pals with his drastic improvement in speed as of late. 

 But, he stands 8.75" at the withers while still weighing 10 pounds and being a doxie build. And, if anything, the boy could use a cheeseburger. The long corgis (whose owners note that papillons have it easier) weigh double or triple what he does, allowing them to dig better into the ground. Plus, they are big dogs on short legs with the herding drive that lends itself nicely to the sport. Plus, even their legs are (marginally) bigger than Murr's - most in the 8" height class are close to the 11" cutoff mark. On the other side, there are the papillons. Most of the paps also hover into the 10-11" height zone, with some of the smaller ladies around 9". And they are all legs, no body, and with only 5-6 pounds of weight can fly over the jumps with ease. When I first moved into AKC Excellent, I realized just how much shorter Murray was than the typical 8" dog. He jumps beautifully at 8" but he's a shrimp among the shrimps. 

Body type definitely has its limitations. Yes, you can say that Muggsy Bogues made a name for himself in the NBA at a paltry 5'3" in height. But part of his allure was how out of the norm it was for such a short player to be making it in the big leagues. Would he have become as prolific had he been 6'3"? Couple Murr's stature with having a relatively inexperienced handler, who (while improving herself) is still learning most handling for the first time, and you have a dog that will never be a Nationals finalist. I'm not making excuses, just stating the (practically) facts which I would be foolish to rebuke. 

That is okay! There are so many opportunities for us to compete and succeed outside of Nationals. And the door is open for us at Nationals (or Cynosport) based on the qualifying criteria. It's just our decision on whether or not we want to make the trip. We started competing in AKC halfway through the 2014 Nationals Qualifying Period, and honestly I didn't even know much about Nationals to start other than that some of the local competitors had done well in years past. The 2014 Nationals were in Harrisonburg, Pennsylvania, or 3,000+ miles away from home. Had this been the location for 2015 I would have likely not made a conscious effort to qualify, as the cost of traveling that far for one run per day (and a total of 4 runs) would not seem like a good use of time nor money for a dog like The Murr. Nationals experience - totally cool! Nationals experience for $1,000+?  Meh. 

However, we get a double-header coming our way. 2014 Cynosport is a manageable drive to the Bay Area, and 2015 AKC Nationals is pretty close too (Reno can either be an 8h drive or a 1.5h flight). So I decided that we would shoot to qualify for both - I can totally justify traveling a day's drive give-or-take to play with my dog while also watching some of the best of the best compete. 

To qualify for AKC Nationals, you need to complete the following criteria (to be completed between 12/1/2013 and 11/30/2014): 

- 4 double Qs 

- 20 master's legs (can be any combination of JWW or Standard) 

- 500 MACH points 

Since Murr is pretty consistent, we finished up the Q and QQ requirements by early 2014. However, it was the MACH points that were holding us back from a ticket to the Nationals. When mid-April rolled around, he had nearly 300 points to go. Yes, we were not even halfway through the qualifying period, but, dang - when I started doing the math it seemed like a lot of AKC trialing necessary to wrap up those points. Add USDAA plans to the calendar (and non-agility plans, because there are those too) and I started wondering whether I would need to give up the goal. Then we started anger running, which yielded higher-point Qs. Murray hit his 500th MACH point in the qualifying period on July 19, with a 24-point standard run - posting his fastest standard Q time ever and taking 2nd place in the 8" class.

                                      

So we're headed to Nationals, just as we'll be going to Cynosport in just a few short months (which is easier to justify as you get quite a few more runs out of it!) Given the proximity, I'm anticipating a large Southern California contingent, which makes for an even more exciting trip. I don't think we'll be trying for Tulsa 2016, because of the whole competitiveness/cost tradeoff but I'm really stoked that I'll get to experience Nationals with my Novice A dog next Spring!

Recalibrating Success

Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.  - Winston Churchill

Several months ago I wrote about how I was defining success, and as Murray has become more confident in the ring, I've realized that I need to recalibrate what I consider to be a successful run.  Except this time, it's all on me.  Because The Murr is pretty gosh darn awesome these days.

The Murr and I participated in our first BIG agility trial in April.  USDAA Regionals was just a hop, skip, and hourlong drive away and we were pumped.  Despite the proximity, we were going to share a motel room with our friend and her dogs as a "test" for Cynosport (because having The Murr wreaking havoc on the inhabitants of a motel room for a week would surely dissolve even the best of friendships).  The whole week preceding, I couldn't wait.  PVP team shirts arrived and were gorgeous.  Everyone and their mother was going.  There was nothing to worry about!

And then we started off shaky.

Our first run was Team Jumpers.  It was perhaps the most technical course of the morning, and counted towards team rather than individual accolades.  We were starting with the little performance dogs, which meant Murray would be up before most.  As people from other rotation groups started gathering over by us, we realized that this was the course that everyone was sweating.

We started our run alright, but as Murray entered the weaves at 6, there was a handler tugging with her dog right alongside the fencing.  Like, right alongside the fencing.  Which caused Murray to exit the poles and go investigate, which caused me to worry that he'd start barking and possibly leave the ring.  Fortunately, I got him back and we restarted the weaves, finishing in a "well at least we got a time" time and with not a lot of confidence.  All day that first day, we had bobbles throughout, mostly due to indecisive handling - no Es, but nothing that I was particularly proud of.  And nothing that was doing justice to The Murr and the level of effort that he was exerting.

The next morning, I said to my roommate/friend that I had regretted entering Regionals PSJ (performance speed jumping).  Now, I love the PSJ class - the emphasis on speed, the A-frames (Murray loves his A-frames), and the small purse that we occasionally earn.  But Murray's PSJ Qs have generally come from less competitive trials - we had never gone head-to-head with any of the super-fast dogs, as most had earned their PSJ Qs early in the qualifying period and then refrained from entering the class.  Although I try not to focus on the Q, I wondered why I spent $30 on entry fees to run a course that we had no chance in hell of qualifying in, given the dogs who would be undoubtably setting the time.  I could have spent less than half of that fee to run in PII Standard where it would be my dog versus the SCT clock.  

As we walked the course, I knew that we (a) had no chance in hell of making time unless every fast dog Ed, (b) that every fast dog wouldn't E, as there were limited off-course opportunities, (c) had to take every risk imaginable and just go for it.  Not to Q, because we had no chance in hell, but to have a respectable showing.  We joke that The Murr likes to "anger run," meaning that when he's mad, he runs faster.  He gets mad by getting wet and by getting riled up.  In reality, the "anger running" is more a result of any stress energy that I have being diffused by this game of pissing him off, but anger running is catching on as a Murrism, so we'll leave it at that.  We went to the hose, wet him down, and then a couple of friends and I got him revved and MAD.  To the point that one of said friends remarked (in response to Murr's barks) "oh shoot, I'm leash running for him.  I don't feel safe now."

We went to the line, wet and mad and ready to go.  I did sends that I would never do at a trial (because ohmygodrefusalohmygod).  I never for a second doubted that he'd do anything but accelerate and take the obstacles in the lines that I ran towards.  We both left everything on the course.

Because some of the other 8" dogs were in other rotations, we had no idea where we stacked up, but it didn't matter.  Murray had one of his most fantastic runs ever - solid weaves, excellent commitment, and nice ground speed.  I had seen the super-fast dogs run and they all got through the course clean and were running even faster than I had seen them do in local trials.  So success on this run was the run, not the outcome.  Imagine my surprise when the results were posted and The Murr made it to the Finals.  He had the slowest of the qualifying times, but was only a few seconds behind dogs that usually run a good 15 seconds faster than us, with handlers that were running as aggressively as possible.

And as much as I said that earning a Q fell into the "no chance in hell" category, both my instructor and I knew that getting a Q in the Finals was REALLY REALLY REALLY in the "no chance in hell" category, as the criteria is cut from 25% of the top 3 score average to 15%.  But that was okay.  We were going to leave it out there and run!

I felt that our experience in PSJ at regionals was the utmost of success, Q or NQ (and ultimately NQ).  We were running like we train, taking risks I usually cop out of, and just going for it.  Because, yes, agility is a timed event - even if I forget that sometimes.

A few weeks later we ran in AKC under a judge that we were over time with last time we had run his JWW course.  Again, it was a "behind the eight ball" sort of day - the course had some obstacle discrimination, it was hot as heck, no tunnels (Murray's accelerator), and a very efficient small dog line wheeled.  So all we could do was "not wuss out of it" and go.  Wet?  Check.  Getting angry?  Check.  And again, a fast run for the little man.

I spoke to my instructor following Regionals and said "that was too much damn fun, I just need to do this and risk more failure."  She looked at me like "duh", though commented that there wouldn't necessarily be more "failure" as we know his capabilities.  My dog is trained to do backsides, and obstacle discrimination, and some distance.  But it's me holding him back from his full potential when I wuss out at a trial, playing things safe to salvage a Q.  By just going for it, and assuming that if I don't take every risk in the book that I won't be able to complete the task, agility is far more fun.  Recalibrating my measure of success, not for my dog, but for me as his teammate and handler, is the real way to improve our team and continue on this path with much enthusiasm.

**This post is part of the Dog Agility Bloggers Action Day.  Check out more posts here.**

My New Approach To Snooker

The first time that we encountered Snooker was in CPE.  I enjoyed the game tremendously, as I got to employ some "strategery" and because you are at an extreme benefit if you have a dog that you can control (+1 for a dog that's slow but fast enough to finish the course).  And I viewed snooker as a control exercise with lots of "here here heres" even if he was going on the line that I wanted him to.  I once even remarked to someone that any handling chops I had went right out the window when it came to Snooker.  My dog could have a wickedly fast jumpers run only to cover maybe 2 yps in a jump & tunnel snooker course... all due to me!  When we moved over to USDAA, I still found myself liking the game, but needing to cover more ground surface in less time... for some reason, a lot of CPE snooker courses use only half of the 100x100' field.  So I realized that I had to go for the flow and run a little bit (or a lot) more.

We moved into P3 Snooker very quickly, and in P3 (or Masters) Snooker becomes a whole new game.  Enter the Super Q.  To earn a Super Q (and you need 3, among other things, for your PDCH), you need to place within the top 15% of your height class... IF and only if there are 5 dogs at your jump height (or 7 for the more popular heights).  We run in the Performance 8" class, which is generally pretty small.  Which means that we are going to regularly be grouped with the Performance 12" class (read: fast shelties).  

Our first weekend in P3 Snooker was a bit of trial-and-error.  There were only two of us in P8 and three in P12, so we were grouped together fighting for that one Super Q.  I walked two different courses, one with more flow but lower points, another with a little less flow but more points.  The 12" class ran before us and almost immediately one dog went for a ridiculously high opening (and finished) so I went for the low point opening and finished with plenty of time to spare.  The second day I walked another flowy course, but after watching the "ridiculously high opening" team have a repeat performance of awesomeness, I figured why not be more aggressive?  Perhaps not the right time, as it was towards the end of the trial, I hadn't walked a plan, and timed out early enough in the closing to walk away empty handed.

Incidentally, when reading a previous set of DABAD posts shortly after the trial, I came across one blog that had many a post about Snooker.  I quickly realized that this was the team that was kicking all of our little dog butts the previous weekend!  I really appreciated that she turned Snooker into a science with Magic Points though I don't think I'm wise enough to make said calculations on a weekend after spending the entirety of the week crunching numbers at work.  But the point was to design courses that were both high point and something you could finish based on your dog's speed.  When I consulted my instructor about Snooker strategy, she echoed this sentiment.  The closing points are worth the most (27) so get as many opening points as you can while leaving yourself enough time to finish the course.  I.e.: don't be too greedy.  I'd like to think this is straightforward knowledge, but it didn't come to me naturally.  I usually walk my Gamblers courses with a stopwatch to ensure that I am in a good position for the gamble when the buzzer will ring.  Now I'm timing my closing to see how much opening time I have left.

But even that may not be a lot of time!  Especially accounting for The Murr's often pokey weaves and the amount of ground to cover in USDAA when your legs are all of 2".  So I have stopped treating Snooker as Snooker and instead been looking for the flowiest courses that we can be in as much extension for as possible.  The more we can accelerate, the better.

Over Memorial Day weekend we had two opportunities to run P3 Snooker.  In our first run, you were to attempt 3 reds.  Many people went for 1-7-1-7-1-7 as the reds were not too out of the way for the 7 combo (jump/tunnel/jump) and it was pretty flowy.  In walking the close, especially with #6 being a set of 12 weaves, I realized that I could not complete three 7s.  I thought of doing one 3 (a jump off the line of the first red) and two 7s but that too seemed to be tough to complete in time.  Some of the fastest border collies in the 22" class got the 3 7s but that was the exception to the rule - many dogs were hitting time while in the #6 weaves or just afterwards.  And they were faster than Murray.  I opted for a course that no one else took: 1-5 (A-frame)-1-7-1-4 (just the tunnel part of the #7 combo).  We were close to the final jump in the #7 combo when the buzzer sounded.  None of the 8" or 12" dogs completed the closing (but one of the 12" dogs also got through #6 and had a higher point opening, so she earned the Super Q).  In watching our video there were a couple of places where I turned Murray wide and in retrospect I would have put him into the other end of the tunnel instead of taking him along the back way since we lost time there.  But I was really happy with our run.

The next day, again, we had 3 reds to take.  Again, #6 was a set of weaves.  #7 was two nested tunnels. And #4 was the evil teeter.  You had to take both from the far side in the closing, but could do it any-which-way in the opening.  This time, though, the reds were not placed in as strategic locations to do a 3 7 combo.  Those who tried could not finish the closing, but few attempted it.  The two popular options were 1-5-1-5-1-7 (5 was a two jump combo), or 1-5-1-6-1-7.  I opted for 1-5-1-5-1-7, since it had a lot of flow, I could avoid another set of weaves (read time sucker) and by putting #7 at the very end, if he was pokey we could just do the outer tunnel and get 3 points.  When I walked the course, I realized that I would need to RUN FOR DEAR LIFE (read: anger run) if I wanted a shot at finishing the entire course.  I considered starting on a lower point obstacle, but that wouldn't put you in a good place for the rest of the opening or the closing.  I decided that I would not try to do the #7 combo in the same way as the closing, as that would take more time (as you needed some control to get them to turn their head and change direction) and instead stuff him from the end of one right into the opening of the next.

The Murr got wet and riled up and off we ran.  It did not feel like a Snooker course - it felt like a PSJ course (if PSJ had teeters, and no, please don't add teeters there thankyouverymuch)!  It was the first time that I felt out of breath running Snooker!  Murray did decide to sniff-weave towards the end of the poles, and I did exert a little more control than necessary going into #7B, whereas a lap turn would have likely sufficed, but we crossed the finish jump with time to spare.  We wound up first among the P8 and P12s, so he earned a Super Q.

 

There's definitely points where not using control will lead to an early blowing of the whistle, and there will be future courses where I have to intermix extension and collection.  I'm enjoying thinking about Snooker not as an exercise in control but as a strategic game of running our hearts out while trying to pick the right numbers that play to our strengths.  And I'm enjoying spectating the game as I love seeing the strategy that goes into all different handlers' plans - be it the fastest border collie or that dog who thinks that weave pole #11 is electrified.  The head-to-head competition for the Super Q just adds to the excitement, making for some great entertainment.

A Year into Trialing

We're in May now, which means a year into really trialing.  And it's been a really fun year... especially on weekends when I remember to wear sunscreen.

I'd say we've had our ups and downs, but in reality, we've had our ups, and ups, and ups.  Yes, we had a minor teeter setback.  And some more sniffing.  But the vast majority of the time, Murray is feeling confident in the ring and enjoying the trialing atmosphere.  His behavior is improving as agility people are totes cool and want to be his friend.  Meaning lots of treats for being friendly!  And we have a pretty cool little dog class at most of the local trials, with lots of celebrations because those little dogs pick up awards like it's nobody's business.

We've been doing more USDAA this year, namely because The Murr got through the measuring process (happiest day ever!) and so that one little thing is no longer a thing.  We are never ever ever gonna be remeasured.  I really am digging USDAA, despite not having the "typical" USDAA dog.  The tighter course times, head-to-head competition, and laid back atmosphere are turning The Murr and I into a stronger team.  I have to go for it with him to succeed in this venue, and while he may never be able to catch up to those papillons, he'll keep trying to best his personal records.  Plus, there are a lot of trials at Happy Dog, which is perhaps his most favorite place on earth.

We got our PVP Q in March and have gotten to do two other PVP events since.  So. Much. Fun.  We're going to get to do Cynosport PVP with my favorite little cairn and his fantastic handler.  I love the intensity, risk/reward, and teamwork involved in PVP.  And making silly team names.

Team Short People at Happy Dog, March 2014.  Eve is a pretty darn cool corgi.

We are improving in AKC too, with Murray hitting his 50% MACH mark at the 1 year anniversary of his first AKC trial.  With a judging slate of two males (something I used to avoid), mulch filling the gopher holes (better to roll in, my dear), and a heat wave coming in, Murray was awesome.  I love that he tries so hard.

We have also dialed in our training.  Our local dog club was somehow able to recruit an absolutely incredible instructor to teach two handling classes on a weekday morning.  Normally, I have work then, but my boss has allowed me to come in late that one day to participate in the class.  So that saves a long drive.  Our other instructor is also incredible and has such an amazing eye for angles and motion and getting Murray to RUN.  Coupled with a workshop a month and I feel like we're really gelling as a team.

A year is a milestone.  And it's been two years now since we started in this crazy sport.  Another milestone. I can't believe my incredible little guy and how well he's been doing in conquering his fears, finding joy in an activity, and keeping me laughing throughout.

Action Day Rewind: Improving Agility Organizations

The Murr & I are competing in two organizations: American Kennel Club (AKC) and United States Dog Agility Association (USDAA).  We've probably done more AKC than the other two, if only because of proximity, but now we're pretty balanced with about a weekend of each per month.

Each venue has its merits and its flaws.  And because there's so much agility here, I could opt to compete in only one venue - or all 5 (there's also ASCA, NADAC, and CPE around these parts).  So as flawed as I may think an organization is, it's clearly not flawed enough for me to stop throwing my discretionary income at it.

AKC

There are a dime a dozen AKC trials by me.  Every weekend I can find one within an hour drive of my apartment.  Some weekends there are two that are 50 miles apart from me (and 100 miles apart from one another).  So lots and lots of AKC.  Our region also boasts a lot of Invitationals dogs (i.e. top 5 in the breed) and double-digit MACHs.

What I like about AKC: It's not a full-day commitment (unless if you're a glutton for punishment, like me, and want to work the novice class).  You can get your measurements before entering a trial.  Jump heights seem pretty reasonable for most dogs.  Courses are generally "flowy and motivating."  The optional games (T2B and FAST) can be very fun.

What I dislike about AKC:  It can feel like a rat race.  Because (for many breeds) you need to compete nearly every weekend to make the Invitational, and Q a heck of a lot of the time.  And if you want a chance of making invitational, you are dissuaded from trying out the other venues.  I'm happy I don't have an Invitational dog (want to make it as a mutt?  then take a sabbatical from work and trial at every opportunity!), as I think both the handler and the dog can get super burnt out - and even injured - from trying to make it into the Top 5 of more popular breeds.  It's also a rat race to qualify for Nationals, particularly if you compete in other venues.  500 points - an "average dog" (37.5 points per QQ, so you would get 750 pts/20 QQs at the same time) would need about 14 jumpers and 14 standard legs to get their points.  The desired AKC Q rate is about 35%.  So that would mean that the "average" dog would need to run about 40 courses in each class to earn their points to qualify for Nationals.  Assuming two days per weekend, we're still talking about two full weekends per month of AKC.  While trials are an hour drive for me, in many other parts of the country it's an 8 hour drive.  Add to that people's desires to try out the other venues, or, y'know, have a life outside of agility... well, that may be tough.  And that FAST and T2B don't count towards the MACH.

What I would do to improve AKC: For Invitationals, have it be based on a finite number of Qs and then yards per second, so that people of more popular breeds can have a life.  Also, split up some of the "breeds" by height (namely us All-Americans, but also Poodles).  It's tough to ask a little chihuahua mix to compete against a sport-bred border staffy.  Make Nationals qualifications manageable so competitors don't need to take out a second mortgage to qualify.  Keep FAST/T2B as optional titling classes but have some way that they can count towards the MACH as well (i.e. points in FAST or T2B could be added as "speed points" to the MACH; a QQQ counts as 1.5 QQs, etc.).  Also, can we please, PLEASE, have a course without weaves?  Or at least take the teeters out of T2B?

USDAA

There are also a lot of USDAA trials around here, too - at least 2-3 per month.  Some may be just this year, as Cynosport is in our state, but last year there were quite a lot too.  Some local folks have placed at Cynosport in years past, and I'd take a gander that we have one of the larger USDAA hotbeds in the country (though we won't mess with Texas).

What I like about USDAA: The games!  I love snooker, steeplechase (PSJ) is a rush, and a jumpers course without weaves is always a good time.  Laid back environment, people seem game for challenges, and though we're not yet in PIII snooker, watching the "Super Q" competition is pretty darn fun (I may be eating my words later, though).

What I dislike about USDAA: You have to be entered to be measured... problem if you're deciding between championship & performance with a borderline dogs, or if your dog is afraid of people (ahem).  This was the major thing keeping me away from USDAA once we started trialing in the other venues.  Though I have no qualms in running in Performance, having a Championship jump height suitable to Murr-sized dogs (i.e. 10"C) would get the little ones out.  If there are 5 8" dogs at a trial, that's a lot... whereas if I go to AKC there's going to be closer to 20.

What I would do to improve USDAA: First, make qualifying for Cynosport more rigorous.  It's the opposite of AKC - technically, you could get all of your nationals Qs in 2 trials.  So there are many local competitors that have never done USDAA, got their Qs and are back to AKC until Cynosport.  Have a requirement that you have to get some titling class Qs or titles, or something a little more than 1 team, 2 GP, 2 steeplechase.  Allow dogs to be measured at trials they aren't entered in (would it really add that much more time?) or at least allow dogs to move from C to P if they "measure up."  Add a little dog championship height.  And please, please, fence in the Starters/Advanced ring as a norm (especially since leash rules are super lax!)

Action Day Rewind: Starting Your Puppy

Only one day late to this game!

I have yet to have a puppy, since The Murr is my first dog and we didn't get him as a puppers.  But we will be getting a puppy.  Sometime.  In a few years.  Details.

And that puppy will be doing foundations like it's their job.  And that puppy and The Murr will never be compared to one another.  If you catch me doing otherwise, put me in my time out crate (seriously).

What I know about agility is a drop in the bucket compared to the average competitor, but in watching many trials over the past eight months, I love watching the dogs with good foundation training.  Yes, it takes a lot longer until they are exposed to equipment, but if I've learned anything from training Murray, it's that equipment gets picked up pretty easily.  It's everything between the equipment that's hard.

I would like to start with the philosophy that everything is a game.  We started with that philosophy a little too late with The Murr, but every training game we've done (splat!, bark on command, etc) has been way more fun than the luring or the "it's training homework."  No homework, all play (or homework disguised as play).

I will stay patient.  We're hoping to get The Murr's companion in a couple of years, when he's about 6.  Which means that he will be a more seasoned competitor, but will (hopefully) still have a lot of agility in his little body.  So I can still train him and run courses with him without a nagging feeling to push the little one too far so that I have a dog to run courses with.  At the same time, we will only get the next dog when we have enough time to commit to training both.  Just because AKC says that you can start trialing at 15 months does not mean you have to.  I will work with my trainer and trust her to help me determine when the pup is ready to show.

A-Frames are one of the things we retrained from a foundation of jumps and a box.  It's his favorite contact!
(photo credit for both, Scott Klar)

One thing I'm happy I did with The Murr was that we went to a lot of Show 'N Gos.  And we'd go to more, honestly, now, except there's been a recent dearth of them in the area.  But when this future puppy of mine is sequencing and all, we will start attending Show 'N Gos.  Yes, even if that means that The Murr can't compete that weekend.

I say that I will never compare the two dogs because in two years from now I may forget about some of Murray's "baby dog shenanigans."  Like his meltdown.  And Murray's had a fair amount of "trial and error" even though we found the right trainer for us fairly early in the game.  And I had to learn handling for the first time, too!  By comparing the two, I could unintentionally put too much pressure on each dog, sucking a ton of fun out of the game.

I'm excited about a future puppy.  I think Murray will have a lot of fun too... and hopefully the dog will bond really well with J (since I still feel like The Murr is more "my dog" even though we got him together).  But keeping training fun and happy and moving at a pace that's best for the dog is the closest thing to a guarantee that we'll have fun in agility for the long haul.

My Dear, Abandoned Blog

Murray at the Nancy Gyes/Jim Basic seminar at Happy Dog.  (Photo Credit: Mia Grant)

I have had fiddyleven blog post ideas in my head, yet when I get home from work, or a trial, or a day of doing everything and nothing, I somehow cannot manage to get my computer open and put my words onto digital paper.  So now it has been over four months since my last post.  And my last post was merely my 6th post.  Slacker.

October through February had plenty of exciting things on the agility front.  We started competing in USDAA.  Murray has gotten really good at doing a down on the table... everywhere except at USDAA.  He is getting faster and faster and faster.  We took some excellent seminars with excellent trainers.  So much wonderfulness for the Murr and I.

I also spent over a month, starting in December, battling with Ramsay Hunt syndrome (a form of shingles) which ultimately caused the left side of my face to be paralyzed for several weeks.  It's better now, but if there's one way to stop overusing verbal commands, it's not being able to speak properly!

Through all that, I have one thing and one thing to say:  Agility People Can Be Awesome.  I could make a small book with the emails and messages of random agility people (and other dog people) sending me "how's it going" messages.  Or paining me with their own shingles stories (there is a surprisingly high correlation between agility handlers and shingles victims).  Or cheering on Murr's droopy faced handler at all those trials, because, yes, I was still playing agility with my little buddy during all of that nonsense.  Thank you.

So now that that's all over (and my energy is up and it's far enough away that I haven't been thinking about it), I can actually FORCE myself to write.  If only I could find some creative energy around these parts!