Friday, May 28, 2004

In which we confess to the horrors of the Bluegrass

 
I know that a lot of people have been wondering exactly what happened to us at the Bluegrass, because our scores on the Bluegrass web site were an impressive zero the first day and we didn't even appear on the list the second day. Yes, folks; it was that bad. The short version is that Phyl didn't run out properly on her outrun: she ran nice and wide at the base, hesitated, waited for my whistle, and then proceeded to need seventeen whistles (Sally counted!) to get to behind her sheep. The outrun was biggish (close to 400 yards, but she's certainly done outruns that size before--she even got behind her sheep at Edgeworth last October!), but the size alone isn't enough to explain her reaction. As I mentioned quickly in my last entry, I had similar trouble with her outrun at the much-smaller Borders on Paradise field, which is a field that Phyl had trouble on in the past. (It's not a large outrun, but it's up a fairly steep hill and is tricky). Anyway, after I wrestled Phyl up to the top she lost her sheep to the setout pen. Impressively--it was the only impressive thing that she did--she managed to peel them off, but at that point they started lifting sideways through the woods at the top, out of my sight. At that point I figured it was a pretty good time to retire, so I called her back. Luckily, she agreed that retiring was the better part of valor, and she came back readily. We slunk off the field, with the British judge kindly saying to me that "your little bitch just didn't feel like working today; it's very hot." I don't think I've ever felt quite so miserable or defeated as I did at exactly that moment.

But there's more to the story than just outrun problems. The weekend before the Bluegrass, on the second day of the Borders on Paradise trial, Phyl started picking at her food. Now, Phyl is a dog who loves three things in life (and I've never been exactly sure in which order): (1) sheep; (2) human beings; and (3) food. She lives to eat, and she always wolfs down her food like a starved maniac, whether or not we're on the road. Now, it's possible that she was absorbing some of my anxiety about her outrun, and it's also possible that she was missing Leap, my other border collie who was staying with a friend so I didn't have to lug her to the Bluegrass. But Phyl's not that deep an animal, so I suspected a physical cause. Her energy level was also just a little bit lower than it usually is: she was cantering rather than running flat out when we went for walks. So after that awful Bluegrass non-run, I took her to a vet in Kentucky for some bloodwork. The test didn't show much of anything--including any signs of lyme, which is what I suspected--but I decided to put her on a course of antibiotics for tick disease just as a precaution. I pulled her from the trial after that, so we only actually got that single "run" on the Bluegrass field.

It was a little depressing to watch dog after dog sail up the field eagerly doing outruns, but I still managed to have an ok time; I'm not sorry that I went. First of all, Sally (we traveled down together) did well with her dogs: both of them ended up in the top half overall, and Eileen had two nice-looking runs with her dog Gyp. We got to see some of Lexington--we went down a day early so we could tour some horse farms, and we had some nice meals in Lexington in the evenings. (Particularly noteworthy was a place called Natasha's Cafe: I highly recommend it if you ever want an interesting place to eat after the trial. And, of course, it was wonderful to see so many good dogs on such a tough course, particularly the International course on the last day.

So where are we now? Well, the antibiotics seem to be working (or else whatever bug Phyl had--and I'm utterly convinced that she had something--is going away of its own accord). I've worked on outruns with her, both in my field and in the fields of a couple of friends, and she really seems fine: not only is she going out confidently, but (I assume as a result of all those tiny outruns that I've been doing in which I push her out at the top), she's giving more room than she ever has before. I would be feeling cautiously optimistic, but I can't, quite: the whole thing is just a puzzle. I don't understand why she fell apart at the last two trials, and I don't understand why she suddenly seems to have had some sort of outrun breakthrough in which she finally sees the sense of being well off her sheep at the top. I'm about to leave for Steppingstone, and we'll have our first crack at a trial this weekend since the last couple of disasters. Your guess is as good as mine as to what's going to happen: I'll certainly report. I have a sense of doom and dread about the whole thing, but that's nothing new for me lately.

(By the way, blogger.com now has a "comments" feature, which I've enabled. If anyone has anything to say about Phyl, or about anything else, feel free to have your say!)

posted by Heather Nadelman

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Monday, May 10, 2004

very quick update

 
I know, I know . . . I'm way behind. Here's a thirty-second update--I'll elaborate on each of these bullet points next week:

• Alasdair's shedding clinic was both useful and depressing
  
• Sherry Smith's trial was surreal because I had to put down my fourteen-and-a-half-year-old basset Connie there
  
• I got my first official Open placement at Bev Lambert's little benefit trial. Since it was only ninth out of fifteen, it was decidedly anti-climactic
  
• Our last two trials were Old Chatham and Borders on Paradise. Both were nice trials, but at both Phyl's outrun has showed signs of deterioration, and she now seems to be back to stopping when she's the least bit unsure.
  
• Right now I'm off to the Bluegrass (yes, to compete!) with a dog who's reluctant to do a long outrun. I really should have my head examined, but I'm hoping the non-running-Phyl parts of the trip will be fun.

  
  

I promise a full report when I return!


posted by Heather Nadelman

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