Clean Run - July 2012 - 57

. o Be Happy.. ! I Decided t d Then I Was an

Tips on How to Get a New Attitude
By Julia Kamysz Lane In the early ’90s, my brother’s friend showed us a McDonald’s training video that was so campy in its instruction that it became must-watch entertainment. Two young fast food employees forge a superficial bond over everything they hate about their job. They especially can’t stand the customers, who are stupid and annoying. They then meet a shoe salesman who is everything they’re not: upbeat, enthusiastic, and genuinely happy to help. Like magic, the two teenagers return to their jobs, inspired to give it their all. At one point, the young man declares, “I decided to be happy… and then I was!” Could it really be that simple? Not exactly. But the lesson it offered—that our attitude is always showing—made an impression. I realized that my own grumpiness about things beyond my control was affecting my dog’s performance in class and at trials. My rescue Dutch Shepherd, Ginger Peach, is a high-maintenance bundle of anxious energy. We progressed through
July 12 | Clean Run

different levels of agility classes with varying results, depending on what dog she was that day. Sometimes, she was confident and focused. She would zoom through the course like a seasoned vet and catch the eye of classmates who complimented her speed and distance. Other times… well, let’s be honest, most of the time, GP was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her eyes would dart fretfully from side to side as she trotted from one obstacle to the next. For stress relief, she would leave me to visit people, even if I had special treats or (normally) her absolute favorite thing in the world, her Frisbee. If she heard another dog bark excitedly, she was done. Her eyes would glaze over, she’d pant heavily and be unresponsive. It was heartbreaking. I decided to move her to a foundation agility class so we could focus on a few things at a time instead of a full course. Plus, we could work at our own pace. Everyone in class was welcome to be in the ring simultaneously, focusing on a

particular obstacle or skill. If your dog needed a break, you could send him to his crate to get recharged. It sounded like the perfect place for us. By week three, it was obvious to me that GP and I were not enjoying ourselves, and it was so not our fault. I blamed the lady who parked her van full of lunging, barking dogs at the entrance door. How could GP be successful in class if we couldn’t even get across the parking lot without her slinking for cover? I also blamed the man whose strong, friendly dog often got away from him and had a thing for GP. He would come galloping over to invite her to play and she would stiffen, avert her eyes, and snarl. What part of no don’t you understand, buddy? Lastly, I blamed those classmates who had the audacity to want to chat with me during class. Couldn’t they see that I was very busy doing something important. At the time, I would have told you that I needed to give GP my full attention to prevent a complete meltdown.
57
Clean Run - July 2012

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Clean Run - July 2012
