|
WANNABE STUFF
|
|
APPRENTICE STUFF
|
|
|
|
MASTER STUFF
|
And for our former harrowing adventures, there's always the archives
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
It's all about the confidence
Last weekend Phyl and I went to Alix Cleveland's beautiful place in Pennsylvania to work on outruns--Alix has terrific fields with 500-600 yard outruns, up hills and with interesting challenges. Phyl and I worked at about 350 yards: her first outrun (to the left) was quite nice, but her first one to the right was tight, and she stopped when (I think) she realized that her arc was wrong and wasn't sure what to do about it. I tried correcting her when she stopped, the first time I've done anything other than give her another flank command. She continued moving when she heard my "hey," but I think the experience stressed her. The outruns (all uphill) were physically grueling, and I probably pushed it too hard; it's difficult to drive three hours to a new field and only do a couple of outruns, but Phyl gets worse when she gets tired, and probably a couple of outruns is all I ought to do with her. *Sigh*. Anyway, I think--I hope--the outing helped. At the very least, I'm pretty sure it didn't *hurt* anything. The consensus seems to be that I should stop trying to correct her for being flat at the top of her outrun and just concentrate on getting her speed and confidence back, and that I should work on the flat thing only at very close distances. I hope all this works! I'll be going to the Paxton-Hills trial this weekend: we'll have two runs in Ranch on Thursday and Friday, and two in Open on Saturday and Sunday. (If anyone is reading this blog who isn't from the northeast, I should explain that NEBCA allows people to enter both Ranch and Open if they haven't yet placed in Open with their Ranch dog. It's a great way for novices to get some additional field experience.)
It's funny what head games these outrun problems have been playing with me--and I'm sure my attitude is affecting Phyl as well. Lately I walk up to the post worried, certain that she's going to slow down or stop on the outrun, wondering what to do about it. Phyl's a very sensitive bitch (find me a border collie who isn't!), and I've got to be freaking her out. But it's very hard to control my feelings of foreboding. If anyone has any positive thoughts to spare this weekend, I'd appreciate your sending them my way!
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
The Trial that Wasn't
Oatlands was . . . interesting. Not GOOD, mind you, but interesting. Here's a quick pass to the end, for those of you who are especially impatient or especially busy: Phyl and I never got to try the famous Oatlands sheep, because Day 1 consisted of her stopping short on yet another outrun, coming in too tight, starting to lift, losing one of the sheep to the setout pen, hesitating and waiting to be told before trying to gather the sheep back, and ultimately losing everyone as sheep 2, 3, and 4 took a quick straw poll and decided that a dash to the setout pen was their best option. Day 2 consisted of nothing, since the trial was cancelled because of an impending tornado that never actually happened (nor did they even get a storm--Virginia is a state that always seems to overreact about impending inclement weather). So Oatlands for me was just a long trip to Virginia for no good reason whatsoever. On the plus side, it was interesting to see how the dogs managed to handle some very difficult sheep, and it was fun to see some of the really good Virginia dog-and-handler teams. (You know, the ones who have dogs who DON'T stop short on their outruns!)
I'm too depressed about these outrun problems to write about them coherently, mostly because it gradually dawned on me over the weekend that *I've* contributed to them in a big way by practicing driving with Phyl too much and not doing enough circles and balance work. Dumb, dumb, dumb! I felt that I needed to practice driving a lot, because last year I was really trying to learn to handle, and there's a lot involved in handling on the drive. I also just plain love to drive with Phyl: she's a pleasure to watch when she drives, and she really loves it. I should have been thinking more like a dog trainer and less like a video game player--I see clearly now that you just can't practice the same thing over and over again with dogs and not expect something to give somewhere. I think Phyl is thinking too much about walking at her sheep and not enough about going around them. Our next trial is Steppingstone in Maryland, and between now and then I plan to do lots of big, sweeping flanks and outruns. I hope things start to go better for us, since there's nothing more frustrating than having a run essentially end before it's even begun.
Thursday, May 08, 2003
I'm mired in the deep pits of angst and despair. How YOU doin'?
Goddamn OUTRUN! I feel like bashing my head against the wall, except I rent my house and I want to protect my security deposit--I have dogs to feed and entry fees to pay. I just don't know what exactly is going on with Phyl: she stops on her outrun regularly but not always, and it seems to happen for different reasons: when she loses sight of her sheep, when she's tired, when she feels pressure that she'll need to cover. Here are some random observations that I've made: (1) the problem seems to have grown worse when I made her start taking responsibility for covering her sheep on the fetch, rather than waiting for my commands. Could be a coincidence, of course, but I have a sense that the two things are somehow linked; (2) she's always tended to come in flat on her outrun, which never was a big deal to me: she doesn't disturb her sheep, and giving up a point for that wasn't a big deal to me. But I wonder if the fact that the outruns in Open are bigger than the outruns in Ranch is exaggerating the problem: maybe she's cutting in *really* early, finding herself at the sheep's heads, and stopping in confusion. I dunno, but what I *do* know is that she's working beautifully in every other aspect: great fetches, tiny flanks on the drive, and even our shedding is starting to come together. But, as I've been told over and over again (mostly by people who never have to give outruns a thought!), "if you don't have an outrun, you don't have a run." (Thanks, Sherlock!) This weekend is Oatlands, which is never known for its creampuff outruns. I plan to send Phyl to the right, out of the pressure, where she can see the sheep all the way, and hope for the best. After that, I want to start on a little program that Carol Campion sent me, designed to make sure a dog can hold its arc all the way around the top of the outrun, even past the balance point. We'll have to see; I'm promising myself that I will NOT panic about this. But damn, that wall looks *so* tempting. And how much damage could my head do, really . . .
