Clean Run Magazine - May 2007 - 14

Get us into an agility trial however and just break out a can of unpredictable. Heck, the morning of an agility trial, I must slap a handful of indecision on each cheek after shaving and apply ode to anxiety deodorant to each arm. The hour drive confirms to my dog Cider neither will we be in the backyard today, nor will I be truly focused on that one contact obstacle. Not only am I stressed, but everyone in proximity to the ring gate is emitting some level of nervous energy. I cannot control my own anxiety let alone everyone else’s. Cider senses this and kicks into hyper drive. The walk to the start line consists of my trying to remember the course and all my moves and commands while feebly communicating to Cider that I know we can do this. We can complete all the obstacles; I have seen her do it. Yet if that first bar goes down, boom, along with it goes my intensity. The training and entry fee are wasted. I complete the run. I may try a couple things I normally would not. My mind is preoccupied with disappointment. I perform half-heartedly. know your dog, your dog knows you, and your dog knows you have food stuck in your pocket. At home, you have fulfilled your potential as a team in training, which is why you are entered in a trial. Here, the envelope of potential is stretched wide and waiting to be filled. Cider and I have one minute to negotiate 20 (and only 20) obstacles. Twenty different times we play out the micro scenario of an obstacle. I direct, Cider responds. I compare what Cider did to what I thought she would do. I adjust my position and posture. I direct again to the next obstacle. I hold out my arm and say Hup. Cider jumps and clears a double. Cider goes wide looking at an appealing obstacle, but not one of the scheduled 20. I summon a panicked Come and rotate my body while standing up to get her back. I direct her over the correct obstacle, but now the approach and hence the landing is different than planned and I readjust. On the average, this readjustment happens every three seconds. This is compact, rapid communication. Every word and more importantly, every movement, every posture has significant meaning to Cider. If I lean forward toward that off-course tunnel and Cider sees me lean forward, then it is tunnel time. Cider is processing all the information I give her and making the best decision she can, given the circumstances. I in turn must read Cider’s body language. I must know if she is locked on to the next obstacle or if she is looking for information. I must know, in an instant, if I have given her the wrong direction. I must provide information when it is needed not just when I feel ready. You may be thinking so what if your plan did not come off exactly as anticipated and you had to make changes, everybody does. Yes, that is exactly the point. The dream is that the trial is like practice—predictable, basic training. The reality is Cider and I must interact. Here we grow with each obstacle and fill another twentieth of that qualifying potential. If the first bar drops, I train. If the last bar drops, my intensity stays at maximum for the entire run. I maximize our potential. Certainly Cider does not care about qualifying. Cider keeps her intensity level maximized regardless what bars might come down or what contacts may be overlooked. Her personal potential is always fulfilled. For our team potential to be fulfilled, I have to stay up and focused until the final obstacle. You all have been through an agility run or another common experience with your dog where “everything just felt right.” That euphoria following the experience comes from growing the relationship. That is the feeling for which I strive. Achieving that feeling means we have fulfilled our potential. So, there you have it. For me, my preference is the last bar—if I have to choose. D The Fulfillment of Potential This brings me to the second, more important philosophical reason for my preference to drop the last bar over the first: the fulfillment of potential. Look past the timer. There are 20 obstacles out there. At home, you can tackle this easily; especially the third and fourth time through. You Cider is Bill’s first agility dog. His first AKC agility competition was in Savannah, Georgia, in November 2003. That weekend they earned three blue ribbons in four runs. They would have earned the fourth ribbon if he had been a seasoned, competent handler. The theme of human error holding down the Q-rate has followed them closely since. In the four years since their first agility trial, he has improved significantly as a handler, but hesitates to conjure the notion of being competent, let alone consistent. Cider has humored and humbled him along the way and still found room to bless him with Novice, Open, and Excellent titles. Mr. RebocLittle in body but High in spirit! Congratulations MACH Mr. Reboc & Terry Besler Awesome team! We are so proud of you! Thanks for being our teacher, mentor, and MOST OF ALL our FRIEND! Susan Anderson & Flagg, Kathryn Johnson, Everett Call & Ace, Kathy McClellan & Maggie, Barb Olson & Derby, Roxann Harrington & Frankie, Bob & Tami Archbold & Lucy, Jim MacInnes & Dakota, Barb & Art Lampert, Sunny Williams & Aspen & Nesa, Dawn Madge & Holly, Danny, & Chloe, Peggy Behrens & Dennis Lively & Kaila, Donna Dugger & Peka, Rachelle Jensen & Miseau, Kelly, Jessi & Lexi, Christy Teets & Flair, Natalie Bailey & Pandy, Marvina Garcia & Selena & Flirt, Kem Ellis & Boo, Leslie & Sarah Jackson & Taffy, Dorothy Haffner & Maggie. © KENNEL BOY VIDEO PRODUCTIONS NOVEMBER 2006 14 Clean Run | May 07

Clean Run Magazine - May 2007

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Clean Run Magazine - May 2007