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    The original plan for Memorial Day was straightforward.  Go to Hangtown Kennel Obedience Trials in Placerville, and win utility legs.

    Alas, it didn't work out that way.  Based on the debacle at the Coyote Club Trials, our trainer recommended - no wait, she urged us to pull our entry - and focus on the next set of trials.

    That means we'll be back in Vallejo on June 7 and 8, giving it a whirl at those indoor trials.

    In the meantime, we're trying to figure out what the problems are, and be as solid as we can.

    The problems, trainer Mary Vogler assures me, are nothing out of the ordinary.  Dogs are situational she continuously reminds me.  That is Point 1.  Spur does a great job in our yard, in the park, in the class at Alan's or the Lodi training facility we visit.

    Those are all places known to him, and comfortable. 

    Mary' has been to take him to as many different places as possible. 

    That's a bit of a challenge when it means finding a new spot to set up a ring, or at least run around a bit.  But we're doing our best.  We've practiced heeling and signals outside the automatic doors at Raley's and in the cookie aisles at PetSmart.

    We practiced go outs and directed retrieves at a Folsom park that is tucked away behind the Rotary club. 

    We set up our ring in Fair Oaks' Phoenix Field, and did the whole utility routine without a cookie in sight until the entire series of exercises was complete.

    And in doing all this, I learned that Spur, indeed is not "solid". 

    Which brings me to Point 2, the all important concept of Training With a True Eye.  My true eye tells me what my heart doesn't want to see.  Spur may look away at a key moment and miss a signal.  He may be uncertain on the go out.  He is sometimes over excited and brings back the first article he encounters, rather than the one that has been scented.

    Nonetheless, in early June we'll give it a whirl again.  And then we'll take a break to reassess and rebuild our mutual confidence and certainty.

    So far, the challenge remains far more fun than frustrating.  Training is therapy for me, and Spur loves to go and do and demonstrate his understanding of all my wishes.

    We are a team with noteworthy strengths, and weaknesses we can conquer together.  And the campaign trail still feels like the right place to be.

    On Saturday, I set out for the Coyote Kennel Club Trials with much trepidation.  The weather was hot, and Spur does not like hot.  I could foresee disaster.  But it's my nature to fight pessimism, and so I set out hoping for the best.

    And when we arrived, my hopes rose.  The show grounds - Solano County Fairgrounds - were shady.  There was a lovely breeze.  The obedience ring was set amidst the trees.  Everything seemed perfect.
   
    But appearances are deceiving. 

    We wandered about to accustom Spur to the surroundings and it was clear they did not suit him.  He did not care to practice heeling.  He preferred not to respond to signals.  It was only with much cajoling that he deigned to practice a few go outs at one of the conformation rings. 

    Uh oh.

    To keep the story brief, our sojourn in the ring was fairly disastrous.  We failed every exercise except the moving stand.

    Spur heeled acceptably, but preferred not to acknowledge any of the signals I administered.  He retrieved the correct articles, but did not wait for me to actually send him to the pile.  He stared directly at the correct glove, then ran out to a different one.  As for the goes . . . let's just say he didn't.

    Afterwards, I had a long conversation with my trainer, Mary Vogler. She urged me to scratch him from the Hangtown Trials Memorial Day weekend.  Hey - sixty bucks down the tube?  When I down he can do it?

    I was resistant to her recommendations . . . . but 24 hours later I finally accepted the fact that she is right.  I have a dog who does all the utility exercises beautifully . . . . in a familiar setting.
Alas, not too many trials are held in my backyard or neighborhood park.

    And so, on the Tuesday following the disastrous Saturday, Mary and I talked again and made a plan.  I will spend Memorial Day weekend playing a bit more golf than I had intended.  Practicing with Spur.  And getting ready for another set of trials in early June.

    There is no rush.  There are things I must do to help build his confidence in new places.  We'll get there. 

    More on how we plan to do it . . . next time.

    This weekend was a challenging reality check. 

    First a Saturday workshop in Vacaville, at which Spur decided that he had forgotten all the exercises we've been so painstakingly learning.  He did the go out, but only with prolonged sniffing at the far gate, and a refusal to sit.

    He stared at me in confusion when I gave him a down signal.

    He ran out to the article pile and brought back whichever one he first reached.

    All in all, it was a monumental mess-up, and one which prompted suggestions, tips and guidance from people who definitely know what they're doing.   Still - some of those ideas reflect a different training method and approach than I've been using.

    I was advised not to put treats out for the go out, and not to follow him out for a reward on the sit.  This represents a fairly drastic change for him.  As I experimented with some of these ideas, I felt Spur begin to shut down.   And so we headed home.  While he snored in his crate, I agonized over what to do.

    In our own yard, we practiced the goes as we've been doing them.  Treats at the far gate intermittently, a treat for every good turn and sit.

    Sunday morning I was back on the road, this time to Lodi for a private session with my long-time trainer, Mary Vogler.  I arrived, leapt out of the car, and poured out my concerns.

    Thank goodness for Mary.  She reminded me that she and I are on a path with Spur.  He is four - still young for utility - and he is green.  She is convinced our training plan is working, and I am confident she is correct.

    I set up my jumps and gates in a field that is unfamiliar to Spur, and we began to put him through some paces.  These included sending him to a post spread with cheese and commanding him to sit before finishing the treat.  The idea being to cure the sniffing problem.

    I don't expect miracles, but I'm feeling better about our progress.  Our April failures served as an object lesson.  To know if we are ready, we must keep trying. 

    I have a plan and a strategy for that, and it begins next Saturday with the Coyote Kennel Club Trials in Vallejo.   We will go for one day, to take the temperature, and clarify what needs work.

    I plan to take my gate to the grounds for an on-site warm-up.  I plan to arrive early, so Spur is as utterly comfortable on the grounds as possible.  And I plan to get out for training as much as possible this week.

    This campaign, as Mary reminds me, is a journey.  The point is to make every step a step forward - even those steps which do not appear to be fully successful.

    I'm on board with that.  And I'm looking forward to that time when Spur is right there, fully with us as well.

   

   

    My favorite image on this web site is the time-lapse video of three gordon setters sleeping with their owners.  Hey - who owns this bed anway?  And how could these people possibly be getting any rest?

    I only know that a night without my dogs on the bed is a lonely night, indeed, but I'm talking about smaller creatures here.

    Most reputable dog training books advise pet owners not to allow their pets to sleep with them on the bed.  It's too empowering for the dogs.  It leads them to believe they're actually in charge of the household.  It can create other behavioral issues.  It may not be utterly hygienic.

    But what loving owner cares about any of that? 

    I keep my bed covered with a flannel sheet that can be washed, well, anytime I happen to remember to do so.  I lay a special fuzzy blanket up the middle of the bed, so the pets can spread out in between my husband and myself.

    At least, that's where we start.  But in the night they do have a tendency to migrate.  Spur likes to get under the covers, next to me, as soon as possible.  Axel curls up next to Don, or sometimes on my right - never my left - side.

    Petra likes to force Spur further down into the bed so she can sleep on my left - never my right - side.

    For a while I thought I was developing bursitis in my shoulders.  Then I realized it was caused by hours of sleeping on my back, each arm curled into a big "C" shape, with a dog cuddled on each side.  I fixed that by learning to sleep with my arms straight.  The dogs can rest their heads on my shoulders if they wish.

    This sounds as if I am spoiling them so terribly.  But I am the one who is spoiled.

    Life is full of stress.  I'm an entrepreneur dealing with a challenging economic environment.  I provide services to clients and I am anxious about the quality of the results I achieve.  I'm in the midst of wearying business negotiations.  I'm constantly looking for more time to train, to golf, to enjoy time with my husband.  I'm usually on a diet.

    There are times when these and other matters weigh on me significantly.  In the night, even small issues loom large and tension keeps me awake.

    In those moments, there is a perfect solution - reach for a schnauzer.  Cuddle up and pet.  Listen to them gently snoring.  There is no more soothing sound.

    Life can be either grand or challenging, but there is always something to worry about.  My three dog nights are a soothing solution indeed.

    Some days it is just flat tough to get out and train.

    I do have a life apart from dog training.  In that life, I own a small business, go to a lot of night meetings, play a little golf, spend some time with friends.  Or occasionally, when I get home from a long day, I just feel like crashing on the couch.

    The problem is Spur.  He greets me with a toy.  "At the very least let's play some tug!" he seems to say.  And he is off and running, frenetically squeaking his new plush coyote critter, or dropping the tug toy enticingly at my feet.  Irresistible.

    Then there is the reality of the thing we want to do - to win recognition and titles.  We have to train if we want to achieve that.

    Years ago I ran a marathon.  That experience taught me that I can do almost anything - within reason of course! - if I am only willing to do what it takes to get there.  For me, the marathon meant months of long daily runs, and a 10 or 15 miler once a week or so.

    Training Spur is far less rigorous, but it does have challenges.  I must keep it fun and fresh for him.  The minute our practice becomes rote or repetitious, I am done for.  He will quickly realize that the dogs in the next ring, or the spectators, or the casual passersby, are all far more interesting than his boring mistress. 

    So I watch the calendar and try to make sure we get out to a location away from home at least four times a week.  At home we practice the little things.  It's easy to practice fronts or get-backs or a back rotation for glove three right in my own living room.

    And the fact is, once I get into it, training is fun.  In trying to make it happy for Spur, I wind up making it happy for myself.  It's long been said that even faking a smile soon makes you feel truly smiley inside.  I am living proof the old adage is true.

    However reluctantly or crankily I started out, I always end up feeling . . . well, just great.

    Many of the people I'll eventually be competing with live full time in the dog world.  They are judges, trainers, vets, vet techs, or reitrees who love dogs.  They have a universe of time that isn't available to me.

    But I still think we can get in the game . . . . as long as we do what we must.  And so . . .  off to the park!