USDAA Mid-Atlantic Regional Champions

What can I say? Jenna never ceases to amaze me...

Jenna and Trixie, an English Cocker Spaniel handled by Blake Rivas, won the 2013 PVP Team Championships. The first ever Junior Handler Team to win a USDAA Team Championship, and to top it all off Jenna won Overall Top 12" dog. 

Honestly in this journey, in this year, I've begun to discover what Jenna and I are really capable of. There have been so many opportunities that I simply counted us out for because I never believed in the team.  I always believed that I could handle clean, and that Jenna would do her job...but something was missing. I feel as though my attitude towards competition has been altered... I'm not sure what did it, or if I'm just imagining it. But this year has already been so incredible, and I don't think thanking Jenna a hundred-thousand times would ever be enough to say how grateful I am for her sticking by me through the last 6 years. 

USDAA Mid-Atlantic Regionals: Day 1

Best part of any competition, when the stress sets in and your nerves go on end. It's when handling and skills become second to simply holding it together. It isn't a matter of "can you" anymore. You can....but will you keep your head? 

Ended the first day of USDAA Mid-Atlanitc Regionals sitting in 3rd place for team with Jenna and Trixie putting down 4 solid runs throughout the day. Could no be more thrilled with how the girlies did, and today we run Team relay for a shot at the podium. Honestly this is my favorite type of situation, stakes are high, lots to lose, but no matter what the final results come out to be the journey to where we are now was unforgettably fun. 

Underestimating the opponent.

Never underestimate your opponent.

Have you ever looked at a course and thought “oh shit, this is going to be wicked hard.”? Whether that statement is said with trembling fear or you say it like me, with a sick sense of excitement, I think we have all muttered something of that variety under our breaths while looking at a course map. Okay now what about the opposite? Ever looked at a course and thought “Wow, this is so simple! It’ll be easy to run clean.”? I have, and to be completely honest I do not put tons of effort towards the planning and memorization of these courses. I’m not sure if I’m the only one who gets lackadaisical when they see a circle, but I always relax when I see something that doesn’t “look” necessarily challenging. 

So tonight I was training on a very steeplechase/T2B style course. Small challenges surrounded by miles of wicked fast lines…okay well not miles, but at least a hundred yards or so. I focused on the challenges; serp this, blind here, don’t role out of the front until she’s rotated, blah blah blah…and I figured I could just take off down the straight line, decelerate turn and go around this simple circle of obstacles without a problem. Well holy fudge nuggets was I wrong or what… I’m not sure what I missed when I was walking the course that made me think that straight line into a circle was going to be “easy”, but I didn’t even attempt to handle it until I was RIGHT on top of the jumps realizing something had gone wrong. Three failed attempt later, I finally told Whimzy to go play in the pool so I could go look at the line again. I ended up shaping the straight line with a blind-rear combo and then rearing the a-frame, instead of "oh I'll just run this way and Whimzy will pick up all the jumps." Duh, Kathleen, of course that was a dumb plan.

Now this obviously isn’t the first time I’ve NQ’d in the backyard, I do that like 5 times minimum every training session. But it was interesting to realize my only real mistake was underestimating my opponent. It’s never good to over think a course and stress over how challenging it is, but the opposite is also true. No matter what dog you are running, looking at a course and judging it as simple before you really dissect the handling needed to get you through the course is equally as unwise.

Perhaps I’m the only one who has run into this issue because for some reason I’m incapable of proper course assessment, or ya know I could just be an idiot and the lesson I just got a refresher in is obvious to everyone. Who knows, but I’d like to think that from tonight I’ll remember to look at each course with an equally calm approach, with precise direct handling planned for each section no matter how "easy" it looks. 

Work every foot. 

Walking Off: who really needs a "time out"?

The practice of walking a dog off course started years ago as a simple way to remove a dog from an overly stimulating situation, in which there was no way to continue the course without causing further damage to your foundation. I’ve walked my dogs off in this manner many times, particularly when the dog gets so high in the ring that it is impossible to get them through the rest of the course. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with calmly excusing yourself from the ring for this type of issue. But more recently, removing the dog from the ring has become more and more of a punishment. Dogs flipped upside down, carried or dragged out by their collars, and even people storming out of the ring without their dogs, which can be considered abandonment, just in case you weren’t aware. There is no purpose, it’s not an “effective training tool”, and it’s based entirely on the handler’s temper getting out of hand. I know we can all get emotional about our runs, good or bad, but in the end agility is a game. Stomping your feet at a knocked bar or having a screaming match with your dog after an off course is completely unacceptable.

And it isn’t just those “problem” dogs that are getting hauled of the course. It’s consistent, honest dogs too, …which honestly I find beyond ridiculous.  Dogs are dogs; they are allowed to make mistakes once in a while. People make up excuses that their dog was too excited, or needed a “time-out”, when really it’s the handlers who need to spend some time thinking about their actions.

So maybe next time, before hauling your “bad, bad, bad dog” off the course, you should remember that 99% of faults on course are caused by handler error.

Just be.

A man once told the Buddha,

“I want happiness.”

The Buddha replied,

“First remove the ‘I’, that’s ego.

Then remove ‘want’, that’s desire.

And now all you are left with is

Happiness.”

Sometimes it takes realizing what was there all along, to get what you’ve always wanted.

In some ways we are all “wannabes”, I know I am. There are things that I have always, always wanted to be. But when you spend so much time simply wanting something, you end up putting distance between yourself and your goal. I think there are times, when used appropriately, that living in the future becomes the best way to reach the future you want.

Extraordinary people live their lives backwards; they create a future and then live into it.

Rather than being a wannabe, just be. 

If you can look at yourself and say that you’ve already accomplished all of your wildest dreams…you eliminate self-doubt. If you can make yourself believe it, you will believe in yourself. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? And yet, with our greatest enemies often living between our own two ears, it can make such an impact on the future...

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

It’s that childhood locket dangling over the white lace, the bride herself scented with a custom bridal perfume, with the groom carry grandfather’s pocket watch, and the bride’s delicate fingers wrapped tightly around the fistful of hydrangea, delphinium, and white lilies. That’s something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

While that wedding tradition rhyme is constantly used by zillions of brides, it is something we agility folk are slowly losing our grip on, and I'm not quite sure we should be tossing away the bouquet so soon. We seem to be perfectly fine with something new and something borrowed, the majority of handlers are open to trying new moves, training more complex courses, and incorporating new training methods into their routines. That’s part of the evolution of the sport. But we are letting go of the old, which isn’t always ideal. I am the first one to say I love all those newfangled, fancy agility moves we are all slowly experimenting with, trying new things is never bad. And yet, similarly it doesn’t hurt to K.I.S.S, keep it simple and stupid. I don’t think there will ever be a combination of handling skills that could ever prove more useful to me, for my dogs, than the basic front cross and rear cross. They are the foundations for handling at a more complex level, they teach people how to read lines, execute, and plan effectively for their own dog’s preferences. Personally I don’t think one can progress as a handler until they understand the principles of good, old-fashioned, basic handling. Really though it comes down to a balance of the new and old; applying the most effective skills we have to each course, whether it be a ketschker or a pull and flip rear cross. I just hope I can always keep the tradition going with my own handling...remembering the old, trying the new, and never being afraid to borrow. 

And hey, if you have something new, something old, and something borrowed, something blue is bound to follow. 

Uncomfortable Moments...

In agility, even when it seems like nothing is going your way, there is something positive to take from the experience. Because whether you like those moments or not they will stick with you forever. Sure it won’t always be easy to accept those not so pretty runs, or to look back and laugh at all your embarrassing moments, but the sooner you come to terms with the past the sooner you can enjoy the present and look forward to the future.  Being able to brush off the bad runs, laugh at your mistakes, and just keep moving, simply makes agility so much more fun.

Personally there are moments in my career that seemed like the end of the world when they happened, but now looking back, I think they are simply hysterical. And being able to look at these moments puts everything else in perspective. For example:

1.       2011 AKC Agility Nationals, on Thursday the AKC was kind enough to give the competitors a demo run in the brand new “Time 2 Beat” class that we would be soon seeing at our local shows. I was in Ring 2, in the main arena of course, with Jenna, I was so nervous I could barely keep my hands from shaking. Honestly I’m not sure why I was so wired that weekend, but I was, and it did not help my performance on course at all. About half way through that T2B course, just off the a-frame, I sent Jenna out to pick up a jump and I took off for a front 2 obstacles down the line. I was being good, keeping my eyes on my dog, and I turned my head to check where I was going for just a second, and just in time to greet the giant white Eukanuba wing with my face. I smacked into the jump, I grabbed it and spun to keep from landing on it. But of course this was the panel jump, so about 4 bars went flying in every direction possible… Jenna and I were then excused from the ring as the judge and ring crew reconstructed the jump I had annihilated. Just a fantastic start to my nationals.

2.       For this we will go back a little further in time, 2004… I was about 7 years old, running my yellow fluffy poof ball of a Lhasa Apso, Jack, in Open 12”. Just before my Open Jumpers run I had to go to the bathroom, this was of course an outdoor show, because back then indoor shows were very rare. So for those of you who don’t know, this means port-a-potties. I walked down the row and selected a door that displayed a little green “Vacant” sign and yanked open the door. The port-a-potty was not in fact vacant; it was occupied by my Open Jumpers judge. Let’s just say he was less than thrilled to see me, and I was beyond horrified to see him *pants up, I think? Honestly can’t remember…and that’s okay with me*. Needless to say I now knock, always, no matter what the sign says.

3.       When I was 9, I was back in Open again, this time with Kayla, my mother’s first MACH border collie. In our first Open Jumpers run, I did a 2 jump lead out and was just even with the ring crew. I released Kayla; she took both jumps, visited the ring crew and bolted out of the ring. Leaving me standing in the middle of the ring alone, as I watched her run around the building looking for my mom. I then cried and hid in crate for the rest of the day, well until Diane bought me a stuffed animal westie from one of the vendors. Stuffed animals simply make everything better.

4.       Unfortunately Kayla leaving the ring is not the worst memory I have with her… on several occasions, particularly after the weave poles, Kayla would run off into the corner of the ring, squat and poop. Then, as if pooping weren’t enough, she would also run out of the ring. Diane used to tie a poop bag around my wrist so I would always have one in case she did. And she almost always did…

5.       Okay this memory isn’t exactly one I can laugh at yet, but it was a very good life lesson. I was in excellent standard with Jenna, and for those of you who don’t know Jenna and I have been battling contact issues since forever. This particular run was dreadful, Jenna jumped all three contacts, ignored my front cross to take an off course tunnel, jumped off the table before the count was over, and at the end of the run I was a less than happy 14 year old. I didn’t yell, I didn’t tell Jenna she had been “bad” or “naughty”, I simply asked her to come, so I could put her leash on. She listened, and we were on our way out of the ring when I heard the judge whistle me and ask me to come back into the center of the ring. She then yelled at me for a good 3 minutes, explaining to me how inappropriate my behavior was, and that if she ever saw me treat my dog that poorly again she would write me up. I took Jenna out of the ring when the judge was done, I went back to my car sat in the back seat and cried, hugging Jenna until my mom came to find me. My mom and friends all told me that I was fine, that I didn’t do anything wrong, and that they had heard from several other competitors that they were shocked the judge had yelled at me. Upon later discussion of that event, we learned that judge simply wasn’t fond of kids.

Those have to be my top 5 most uncomfortable moments in the sport, and unforgettable moments that will stick with me forever. But now I realize that they were not bad moments and they were certainly not the end of the world. Just things that I had to learn to be okay with.