Saturday, January 17, 2004

In which we experience (albeit vicariously) the thrill of victory

 
Right at the moment it’s 23 degrees outside, and our field is covered with slippery snow; trials feel worlds removed. But, hard as it might be to believe, Phyl and I actually ran in three trials between my last blog entry on the evening of December 31 and the entry that you’re reading right now: we went up to Carol Campion’s New Year’s Day trial (a four-hour drive each way), and the following day we headed south for a six-hour drive (again, each way) to the Virginia Border Collie Association’s winter trial, held at Jeff Hoffman’s farm in Gordonsville, Virginia.

Phyl and I did reasonably well in each of our runs, although none was spectacular: my crossdive lines were better than they’ve been, and that pleased me because it’s something I’ve been working hard on. Phyl’s outruns were acceptable. We managed to get our sheds both days at the VBCA trial, and many other people had difficulty. And on the second day of the VBCA trial, we were just a few points shy of the score of the tenth-place dog. (We missed two out of three panels in that run; if only . . . ) All in all, it was encouraging, and I think it bodes well for the coming season. But I’m not going to write any more about Phyl in this entry. Instead, I’m going to focus on some dogs that my friends Sally Molloy and Eileen Stein ran, because both of them had the sorts of runs that really make a trial special.

Sally and I drove down to Carol’s trial together: she ran Paige, a three-year-old bitch whom she bred and trained entirely by herself; and Zac, a five-year-old import who’s a half-brother to Phyl (both were sired by Bobby Dalziel’s Jim). We’d both been wanting to go to Carol’s New Year’s Day trial for years, because it seems like such an idyllic way to start out the year: out in the fresh air, doing something you love, on a beautiful farm, in the company of like-minded people. But, for one reason or another (usually weather), it never quite worked out before. This year’s weather was sunny and ideal, and it really was worth the long drive: I’ve never had a more energizing New Year’s Day. (Normally I spend New Year’s Day in some sort of neurotic limbo puttering around the house, alternating between feeling depressed about all the stuff I didn’t do in the previous year and anxious about all the stuff that I might not do in the new year yet to come. This was better!) Sally ran Paige first, and Paige looked good: she did a gorgeous outrun and perfect lift, nice fetch, and a beautiful drive through three-quarters of the course until she got to a dead spot. But the highlight of the day was Sally’s run with Zac, which was just about perfect. They drew a very heavy, slow set of sheep, and Zac (who has a lot of presence and normally works quite a ways off his sheep) had to be right on top of them to keep things flowing. And he did keep them flowing; the sheep moved slowly, but they rarely stopped, and his lines on this drive were just about flawless. Zac and Sally had a perfect pen but ran out of time just as they were setting up their shed. Still and all, it was a lovely run, with the highest drive score of the day and one of the few 20-10s on the outrun and lift that judge Larry Campion gave that day. They ended up in sixth place, earning USBCHA points toward qualifying to run in the finals.

The VBCA winter trial (a mere two days later and 500 miles farther south!) was even more exciting. On Saturday, Sally had an absolutely knock-your-socks off run with Paige: everything about it was pretty (lovely outrun, great fetch, impeccable drive, and a decisive shed on a day when almost nobody was getting sheds). I’ve watched Sally with Paige ever since they started training, and I was present when Paige was born: in many ways, I feel as if Paige is about as close to a niece as I have. Watching her turn into an Open dog is a little like watching a child grow up into a nuclear physicist: it’s all just a little surreal, but it’s also very, very wonderful. I never get tired of seeing Paige act like an actual, trained, talented sheepdog. And Paige was pretty spectacular at this trial: she felt her way around the course and had authority over her sheep, but she also listened well to Sally and took every flank and stop without argument; it was (I hate this badly overused word, but I can’t think of a better one) awesome. They ended up fourth, beating many of Virginia’s best teams.

You wouldn’t think anything could be better than watching Paige turn into a real Open dog before my very eyes, but day two of the VBCA trial probably topped it. I was scribing for the first ten runs of Open, so I had a front-row seat for two beautiful runs. Eileen Stein had a terrific go with her imported bitch Meg. Meg is four years old and has a lot going for her: beautiful natural outwork, a nice manner with her sheep, and a great temperament. Eileen’s biggest challenge with Meg has been getting her to walk up consistently on tough sheep: she’s been improving greatly, and she had no problem at all moving Jeff Hoffman’s sheep (who are not cream puffs by any means) around the course. Meg had a beautiful outrun and lift, a pretty good fetch, and a really controlled drive. Her pen was clean, but she was a little reluctant to come in on her shed and as a result the clock ran out before she could get one. Even so, it was a very nice run: they finished with an 80, and if Meg had gotten her shed it would have been one of the highest scores of the day.

A few dogs later, Sally and Zac had the sort of run that I’ve only dreamed about. I’d like to be able to describe what happened in detail, because I have all of it so clearly imprinted on my brain, but the fact is that beautiful runs are much less interesting to write about than the might-have-beens and what-ifs that Phyl and I tend to have: they’re beyond words. Everything about Zac’s run was pretty: controlled but not mechanical, smooth but not too slow. It was the kind of run in which time seemed to stop, but the run itself seemed to go on forever. Sally gave exactly the right number of commands, letting Zac work his sheep on his own but assisting him in keeping things going. As the run progressed, my whole body was shaking so hard that I could barely hold onto my scribing pencil (it was fortunate that there were very few points off to record, because I could barely remember how to count beyond ten when it was over). The real heart-stopper was at the end, when Sally took quite awhile setting up a shed with Zac (Zac is a dog who prefers getting his sheds on the first try), and then called him in for a perfect 10-point shed a split second before time ran out. They ended up with a 94, which tied David Henry’s Holly for the highest score of the trial. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay for the runoff--Sally had family responsibilities--so Zac officially came in second. Still, it looked like a win, and it felt like a win. I was very lucky to be able to see it, and even luckier to have survived it: my heart is starting to pound wildly again even as I write.

But wait! There’s more! At the very end of the day, Eileen ran Gyp, her other four-year-old import. Gyp is a pistol, an extremely fast, keen, talented dog who does everything at top speed. When she’s not under control, she can look like an untrained puppy; when she is under control, everything can be perfect. She was under control for this run: she listened to everything that Eileen said, and on her own she kept her sheep on a perfect line and pace. The two of them had the kind of drive that defines what drives should be: angels wept, the earth moved, and even in the face of all that celestial commotion Gyp bore in on her sheep and held the pressure point perfectly If Eileen hadn’t slightly misjudged the crossdrive panel and missed low, I can’t imagine more than a point coming off of that drive. (Even with the miss, they only lost 7 points). Eileen has always worried about Gyp’s shed: she comes in like a dynamo (the trick with her is getting her not to come in before she’s called, not coaxing her to come in at all the way it is with most dogs!), and it’s hard for her to get anywhere close to her sheep in the shedding ring. But for this run they got their shed (an eight-pointer; I’m not exactly sure where the two points came off), and finished strong. They ended up with an 87 on the run, and fifth place--if they hadn’t missed the panel and had gotten a clean shed, they would have won the trial.

There’s a reason that I’m dwelling so much on Eileen’s and Sally’s runs, and not just because I’m sure it’s going to be the last time the two of them will permit me to write about them (neither of them is exactly the bragging sort!). I see many novices who only pay attention to their own dogs, and never take the time to focus on the dogs that other people are running. And of course I understand this impulse: there’s so much to learn in discovering how to run your own dog well that it can seemingly swallow up everything else. But shutting out other dogs and handlers is wrong, both because getting involved in the triumphs and low points of your friends greatly increases the good things that can happen at a given trial (I look upon the whole New Year’s weekend experience as an incredible high, even though none of it happened to me) and because doing so can make you a better trainer. I’ve learned much more about dogs watching Sally with Zac and Paige, and Eileen with Meg and Gyp, than I ever could have if I were concentrating only on Phyl: they’re all very different dogs, and I think I’m much more prepared to train a puppy someday than I ever would have been otherwise. There’s not much advice that I feel qualified to give out, but I can give out this: watch the dogs around you, and try to learn from them. I promise that you’ll be glad you did it.

posted by Heather Nadelman