WordPlay

It’s 10am Christmas morning, which is a whole lot later than this day started.  Not because I have eager kids in the house, but because today was my chance to run a certification track with Dart Beagle.

In order to enter the TD (tracking) test, a dog must prove he’s ready.  That means passing on an informal TD track.  Ours was scheduled for Friday the 23rd–but we spent Friday snowbound, digging out from under the third storm in two weeks.

insert random beauty

Sunrise, right before the start of the storm...

Thirty-six hours later, as the sun is about to set...clearing skies with lenticular clouds sitting on the Sandia Mountains

So we rescheduled for Monday.  But then the certifying judge had to reschedule something of her own due to that same weather, and suddenly here we are on Christmas morning, squeezing in the track together.

It was 15F when we left the house; marginally warmer when I ran Dart’s little starter track (a wee morale builder).  Eventually the sun came up and that helped a bit–when we ran the certifying track a little after nine, it was all blue sky, bright sun, and eager Beagle.

And for Christmas this year, the eager Beagle ran a picture-perfect track and found the glove. 

Now I am off to celebrate!

insert random holiday cheer

My view from the office at Horse Feeding Time

Duncan feeling a bit jaunty in his power red blankie

The dogs say "Happy Holidays!"

You know, when I started last Monday’s blog, I had no intention of writing about Belle Cardigan.  In fact, I had a little video of Dart I wanted to put up.

Anyway, as with books, sometimes blogs have a mind of their own.  Before you know it, I was in fact writing about Belle.  You know…how she started training at age two, blew through to Excellent B with mostly straight Qs and firsts (she was jumping four inches higher at that point) and rivaled the times of dogs through all the height classes.

And then of course she hit age five, developed a genetic disk calcification condition that had nothing to do with agility, became partially paralyzed for a while…

Rehab and flares and rehab and flares…

She wasn’t supposed to be able to run again, but she obviously did–in fact, it actually kept her strong.   In between her calcification flares–about 50 % of the time–she ran for her first PAX and then her second.  When they grandfathered in speed points this past July, she earned her first PACH title–as well as the ranking of #2 lifetime Cardigan in the Preferred class (that’s the one that allows her to run safer, shorter jumps for her stubby-legged, long-bodied self).

At that time, she was only 150 points shy of her second PACH–the one she would have easily earned had the PACH dogs been granted the placement multiplier points earned by the MACH dogs in the very same time frame.  (bitch, mutter)

Well, at three months later and almost 12 years old, she’s now 98 points shy of her second PACH…and that’s how it’ll always be.

For Belle, being perfect has always been the most important thing.  Unfortunately for her, she has her own standards, and they’re far, far higher than mine.  She worries when she perceives that she’s imperfect.

Over the last year, she’s lost most of her early speed.  The problem is…

She knows it.

For her Jumpers courses, I can usually convince her that she is indeed perfect; I rate my speed to hers so she doesn’t feel left behind.  But over this past three-day trialing weekend, she looked at me out on the course and told me she was too worried about not being perfect to have fun any longer.

So I jollied her into giggling through one last Jumpers run, picked her up at the end of the course–the better to offer her cookies–and walked off the course to bury my face in her ruff and cry.  Yes, like a baby.

It’s the right thing for her, so we’re doing it.  But oh, I will miss running my Belle Princess.

PACH Cheysuli's Silver Belle, CD RE MXP5 MJP6 XFP PAX2 EAC EJC CGC

It turns out that if you’re massively overworked and you don’t back off before an agility trial, you just may not be at your best.

At the point this becomes evident, the best you can do is make sure the dogs have as much fun as possible.

Belle ran standard agility this past weekend (the one with all the climb-over/tipping obstacles, as opposed to the one with mostly jumping obstacles).  She hasn’t done this for a year, since she got her PAX2 title; she’s just been running jumpers in semi-retirement, as she approaches twelve years old.

 But to my great surprise, when the AKC handed out PACH titles in July, Belle was pretty darned close to earning her PACH2, which is a tremendous accomplishment for a little dog who was partially paralyzed at age five and has spent the years since then being benched for flares as often as she was able to run–especially when she, along with all the other PACH-eligible dogs, didn’t get credit for her placement multipliers as the MACH-class dogs running during that time period did.

(Gee, no, this doesn’t crisp my cookies much, why do you ask?)

Not to mention, she was also #2 lifetime ranked Cardigan Welsh Corgi in her competition class.

 So I said, “Belle, if you’re going to run, let’s run Standard classes and go for the PACH2.  If you don’t think that’s a keen idea, then maybe it’s truly time to retire.”

Belle on Friday’s Standard Course:  “Wheeee!  This is FUN!  Giggle!”

In fact, it was so much fun that she forgot a decade of teeter training and missed her tipping point, and had a rather ugly stumble complete with face plant.  But I cheered, and she kept right on running.  “Wow, didn’t seem to phase her!” said those who saw.  Well, I know Belle–and Belle feels it’s really important to be PERFECT.

Belle on Saturday’s Standard Course:   “Wheee here I co–oh wait, is that the teeter*?  Oh!  I was NOT PERFECT on the teeter yesterday!  What if it happens again!  I don’t know what to do!  Mommy!  I’m melllllting!”

Me to Judge:  “Thank you very much, we’re done!”

Me to Belle:  *kisshead kisshead huggy*  “You did that one jump PERFECT!  Let’s go make you feel special.”

(two hours later, jumpers course)
Belle:  Wheee!  I’m still special!!

*Actually, it was the dog walk.  But they go up at the same angle, and her self-avowed imperfection of the previous day made it too scary to risk.

Whew.

And Sunday?  I didn’t enter her for both courses back when I was making my master plan.  I wanted to give her an easy day.

Well, it turns out that if you’re massively overworked and you don’t back off before an agility trial, by day three of running three dogs, you get a nuclear-intensity migraine.  Under those circumstances, the difficulty of memorizing a course, running it accurately, and–most importantly–making your dog feel special along the way…well, something’s gonna go.  It also turns out that Belle–

Belle:  HEE HEE HEE GIGGLE!

Belle may not have the speed she had as a young person, but she still knows how to grin.  And I have it on video–along with that last second at the end where Belle, as she is wont when she’s especially exuberant and her human doesn’t strongly support the final jumps, takes off early and lands on top of the final jump.

Oops.

What the video doesn’t show is that she circled around after that jump and leaped right into my arms, just as she did in days of old, completely full of Being Special.

WINNING!

Belle running, me lurching.  That funny bit starting at 18 seconds is what it looks like when a short little dog goes through weave poles that are obscured by the jump between the poles and camera.

The blooper is a bit hidden by the tunnel, but watch her take-off at 45 seconds…and the distance to the jump standards….  I wish we had the leap-to-arms, but the camera did a swooping whoopsie at that point, which I have mercifully cut…

I had planned to run a three-day AKC trial this weekend. I had planned to play with Belle in Jumpers for PACH points, and for Double-Qs and MACH points with Connery, and practice whatever short course pieces that Dart could manage.

I had not planned to take a wrong step before the third obstacle of the first course of the first trial day  and blow up my hamstring.

This is me, except I'm not grey and see-through.

Hamstring: I hate you.

Uh huh.

So, here’s  my good luck!

~For the first time ever, there was a massage/chiro professional on the premises.  He was drumming up business and affordable.  Belle had some work done, too.

~A friend from my former agility club had traveled over for this trial. We learned from the same instructor and have the same foundation running style. Belle was in those classes, too, and Connery trained with her dogs for the first years of his life, and she was willing.  If I had to pluck any single person out of thin air to sub for me…yes, it would have been this person.

~Dart is not ready to Q, anyway. Working on a few starts and then exiting on success was probably the better part of valor, hamstring notwithstanding.

~On that first, fateful run, Connery burst forth with such vivid joy that in spite of the fact I ran (er…lurched…hopped…) stunned and pain-blind, he not only made a tremendous save at the point of the injury, he went on to run a beautiful course.  And Q’d, and took a rare (for us) first place.

(You see what I mean about The Heart of Dog.)

And there were many other bits of goodness, like the old Ace bandages we had waiting at home, the fully stocked Tiger Balm, the excellent advice and support from trial friends, and the very understanding judges.

Belle, it turns out, was too anxious about running with a substitute handler to Q, even one she used to hang out with.   We told her she’d done very well, regardless, and she was much relieved and believed us.

Connery, it turns out, remembers his friend and did, after some initial concern because it wasn’t ME, think it was a tremendous party to run with her.  He continued with his wonderful glee of Friday, and built on our Double Q to earn two more on Saturday and Sunday, turning in some wonderful times.

Oh, yes–he had some very hard mornings before it was time to run, with choking and wheezing fits; I wasn’t sure, for the first time, if he’d manage the days.  But I’ve learned that he breathes differently when running a trial course, and so far, he’s not having trouble on the course.  So we’re threading the needle for as long as we can–because, hello…the only thing sure to wreck his ability to cope with what’s happening is to take away the things he loves.

Two weeks until he sees the specialist. Maybe by then I’ll be lurching along more smoothly…but I am very carefully not tempting fate by planning on it!

If dogs could fingerpaint on the walls, mine would be doing it.

Also, channel surfing and throwing themselves around in dramatic postures.

DOGS: We’re BORED.

Yes, we have cabin fever. We have it BAD.  Between the storm days and the follow-up air-crackling temperature plunge, we have not trained for DAYS.

Oh, I lie.  I’ve been doing bits and pieces inside. (The weave poles: inside.  A faux tunnel, inside.)

(Have I mentioned that Dart hits his first agility trial in a month?  Ha ha ha!!)

But there’s been no tracking, no riding, no romping around outside. And while I’ve done my best to protect Belle’s back from the cold, inside and outside, she has nonetheless gone into a flare of her spinal condition, so she’s on meds and crate rest.

But before that, she was Pill Bug Belle.

Belle Cardigan in pill bug mode thanks to cold, cold temps and her heavy jacket

She doesn’t appreciate it when we giggle at her efforts to trundle around, trying to go up stairs or over the lip of a crate.  But she’s awfully cute.  And she totally looks like a Pill Bug.

Belle Cardigan: *stomps foot*  It is not funny.

Dart Heathen Puppy has Exploding Head Syndrome, and Connery is curled up in a Beagle Ball.

ConneryBeagle: Wake me when it is spring.  Or I can train.  Whichever comes first.  *snore*

The dogs like to be in their yard.  They like to train.  They WANT.

However, today the temps went up enough so Dart could spend time in the yard.  And Connery got to run some starter tracks and turns in the snow.  Sunny and bright and calm, and in the 20s!

Maybe I’ll even get to ride soon.

Until then, I have these little reminders of a week ago, when Connery got his TD certification and Dart worked on his article indication, which is about showing me when he finds an article on a track (plastic, leather, cloth, or metal).  His criteria for doing this thing is to stop at the article and go on a down.  He’s only just starting this process…

Dart Beagle in Token Cutie Shot: I am ready!

Dart gestures in the general direction of the article. "See? There it is! Cookie, please!"

Are you watching? It's here!

Oh, I have to do the WHOLE THING. Well, LOOKIT ME.

Back in the day–okay, until two years ago–I lived in northern Arizona. Then, there were two Beagle handlers in the whole state (okay, face it, in AZ, NM, and Nevada)–me in Flagstaff, and my friend three hours away in Phoenix.

Beagles aren’t known for being an agility breed.

(Why that’s so is another story, but for now, we’ll let it stand there.)

"Creating Champions -- One Rescue Beagle at a Time!" (Pogo Girl PAX MXP5 MJP6)

We connected early in Connery’s career, which was decently early in Pogo Beagle’s career and I believe at the very front end of Sonic Beagle’s career (Belle Cardi was just recovering from her first back flare, and trialing only sporadically).  From there we started setting up together, planning out trial schedules to see where we could coincide, and in general having a grand time together.

More than that, we created our own mini-support group for the challenges of running a Beagle in a herding dog world.  There are certain common denominator experiences attached to the situation, and it’s as much about how people react to the dog as about how the dog does in the ring, especially when you’re visiting a new area, moving up into a new class, starting out in a new jump height–in other words, they don’t know you and they don’t know the dog (and they don’t necessarily realize how well their comments carry, or that you have a friend on the sidelines who will hear them if you don’t).

So it was very, very nice to have another Beagle handler on…well, on hand.  And it was super very nice to become friends!

And then it was very sad to move away, far enough away so our trialing venues simply don’t collide any longer.  (There are great big gobs of empty space between here and there…)

And THEN it was VERY HAPPY this weekend when after those two years, we ended up at the same trial again!  We did the girly squee thing and a little dance and then some mad catch-up, the way one does when scant emails and Facebook just aren’t enough.

Run, Connery, RUN!

Also, we had a great running weekend! The dogs ran strong and happy, and that’s enough to bring smiles for weeks.  Sonic Beagle earned his first Q in Excellent B classes, and Pogo Beagle pulled in two QQs–so did Connery Beagle, while aging Belle ran with a verve and speed that utterly delights me.  Bunsen Beagle and D’Artagnan Beagle sniffed out each others’ credentials in an appropriate way and practiced patience, trial ground behavior, and the “quick potty” maneuver (a critical trial skill).

All in all, we got to do a couple of victory dances, share some commiserations, and just plain relax in our little corner of Beagleness.  So it’s Sunday, and we’re tired…but happy.  Just as it should be.

PS Connery got a handsome new tie-died leash.  Wanna see?

Belle is due for a bit of pampering after earning that PAX2, don’t you think?

Actually, she’s due for a bit of pampering all along. After the partial paralyzation and recovery,  she’s permanently weak in her right hindquarter–it’s subtle, but it’s there.   She compensates–you’d likely never guess from watching her.

But in the process she often has little spasms, charlie horses, and inflammations.  Sometimes all at once.  And lots of times she pretends she’s not and there’s only a subtle change in her mood.  Mainly she just keeps trying.

Back when she was five and still on crate rest after the first flare of her disk disease, I was lucky enough to connect with a horse/dog massage therapist who periodically made the drive from Phoenix to Flagstaff.

The stupendous Sue was key to Belle’s initial recovery, her ongoing recovery, her return to agility, and my ability to manage her throughout.

(DuncanHorse also benefited greatly–as did Connery after the Giant Schnauzer attacked him–but that’s another story.)

During that time, I learned to do some basic work on all the kids, and I also took a doggy sports massage clinic (Flagstaff veterinarian Cindy DiFranco–gosh, she’s got her own DVD now!)  I wanted to be able to support the dogs–all of them–as best I could on my own.

But I don’t have the incredible, intuitive touch of the stupendous Sue, and I always counted on her to right the wrongs I couldn’t find.  Plus Belle loved her.  Connery loved her.  Duncan fell asleep on her (literally).

It may not surprise you that the first thing I did when learning we would be moving was to look for someone in Albuquerque who could approximate the same.

It also probably won’t surprise you that I wasn’t expecting to find someone equally stupendous–but it did surprise me when I couldn’t find anyone at all.  Rehab, yes; sports massage, yes.  All good people.  But not quite the thing for Belle.

But finally, I may have found something. For as of this past week, Belle has been cracked.

Chiropractic isn’t what I was looking for. I was wary of it, as I feel she’s a vulnerable little person, and truly  sensitive to being handled–she has reason to fear pain after what she’s been through, and it shuts her right down.  But I kept hearing good things about a local vet, and I really felt something was going on with Belle that expert hands should investigate, and well…

Sometimes you just take a chance.  So I did.

And Belle sure needed to be cracked.

It isn’t the same thing she had with the stupendous Sue; it’s not the same category of therapy at all.  But it’s a foundational support that will help keep her comfortable in ways that I can’t manage, while I keep looking for someone with a special intuition and a precision, delicate touch with myofascial massage.

Meanwhile, Miss Belle has been roaring around the house, so I think she’ll be getting some more cracking.  In the end, hers is the opinion that counts!

Trialing the weekend before this last was…intense.

Exhaustion and fried nerves/cracked tooth are not a good recipe for a focused handler; the dogs did well, but it was in spite of me.

Connery finished his just-started Novice FAST title (the third of three legs in a row) and earned two of his three Open legs.  Belle blew through three critical Double Qs toward her PAX2, with one left to complete.  We ended up with 13/15 possible Qs (did I say, in spite of me?).

Here is their ribbon loot!  Because Ellie Beagle asked for it.

Connery and Belle with the previous weekend's Ribbon Loot. Belle sports a charmingly scabby nose from her lizard-hunting activities.

A word about Belle and this whole PAX thing. A PAX requires 20 QQs (double Q = qualifying in standard and jumpers on the same day), and is the most prestigious title available to a dog running in Belle’s classes.  (Why a PAX and not a MACH such as Connery earns?  That’s a blog in of itself…)

Of all the trials I’ve attended in the past eight years, I’ve only personally seen one PAX  completed.  Sort of.  Because it was two years ago…and it was us!   This is in contrast to MACHs–because in this area of talented people, MACHs do happen.  In fact, two wonderful handler-dog teams earned their first MACHs at last weekend’s trial.  W00t!

(This means lots of cake! Around here, earn a MACH (or PAX), and bring a cake to the trial the next day!)

A word about Belle.

At age five, Belle was partially paralyzed with a disk condition unrelated to agility–inflammation severe enough that the swelling compressed her spinal cord.

I was told she wouldn’t run agility again.

But it was agility that saved her, because daily training meant I saw the trouble signs early, and her strength protected her back through the following days.  Massage, supplements, trial and error, careful reintroduction of activity after 6 weeks of complete crate rest…

Six months later, she did run again. And although the ongoing condition flared every 5-6 months, starting the whole cycle over again, and though she’s weak in her right hind, she kept running.  A reduced schedule, oft-interrupted by extended periods of down-time, meant that opportunities to build Qs were scarce, in an area where the nearest trial was three hours away and opportunities were already scarce.

She had a very, very long road to that first PAX.

But now only two years later, her retirement crowds close, a score of QQ opportunities lost to the side trip to her Excellent FAST title–and her confidence now shattered due to…???  Moving twice in a year?  Jean-Luc’s decline?  Encroaching age issues?  It’s hard to say.  She’s a sweet, soft-hearted dog, and she blames herself for things in her life that can’t possibly be her fault.

So I really didn’t know if she would make it to that PAX2. Or if I should simply retire her, accepting this change as age-related and permanent.  But I  kept trying to find her happies again.

So, then, you remember last weekend? She started giggling again!  Three QQs in quick succession! And wow!  Suddenly the PAX2 was in sight!

And so here we are with this past weekend’s report:

Saturday:

• Meet up with fellow Backlist Ebook-er & dog lover Julie Ortolon, who traveled into the city for a Real Life Hello!
• D’Artagnan Beagle: “I am getting the hang of this whole trial site experience!”
• ConneryBeagle: QQ #20 for his MACH2 (and a slew of speed points left to earn)!
• ConneryBeagle:  Open FAST Title! Move up to Excellent for Sunday!
• Belle Cardigan:  YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!
• Belle Cardigan:  QQ#20!!!!!!!!!!!
• Belle Cardigan:  PAX2!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(insert victory lap, PAX Pole, hugs, squeals, cheers, fun!)

I wish I could say this stupendous day ended idyllically. What I can say is that friends tried to help us jump the van and Triple AAA finally used their superwhooper jumping system to get it started but the battery-selling folks said, “Wasn’t the battery” and we managed to borrow a vehicle for the next day and to tear down our shade shelter to accommodate diminished packing space and to brainstorm ways we could keep the dogs if not ourselves in the shade the next hot hot day and arrange for the van to make it into a shop.

But hey, then we had a Sunday:

• No cake for the celebration due to the car misadventures.  I assure everyone that it would have been REALLY GOOD CAKE.
• D’Artagnan Beagle:  “I still measure under 14″ and I am a GOOD BOY practicing my trial manners.”
• ConneryBeagle:  Another QQ! And a hugely intimidating first Excellent FAST course conquered with such heroic effort on his part that I partied him as if we’d just won nationals!
• Belle Cardigan:  Runs her very last Standard course EVER.  Qs.  Runs a gleeful jumpers course and says she would like to continue with Jumpers classes for a while yet.
• Belle Cardigan: Goes into Standard Course retirement on the very first QQ for a never-to-be-earned PAX3.
• Borrowed vehicle: cleaned and returned.
  
• Weekend Q tally: 10 of 10.  Combined weekend tallies: 23 of 25 Qs. (In spite of handler, did I say?)

DogMom:  Hugs dogs and cries at their wonderfulness.

Connery's Start Line Song: YES! I AM READY! WOULD YOU GO DO THE LEAD-OUT OR WHAT!?

Cheysuli's Silver Belle, CD RE PAX2 MXP5 MJP4 XFP EAC EJC CGC: PAX ribbon and bar and dog (slightly less scabby nose this week) and handler and judge Tim Pinneri

This is Belle's Victory Lap--and such a bounce in her stride! How proud her neck! Good dog!

Agility people take “trials” and “trialing” so for granted that it sometimes surprises me when I mention “I have a trial this weekend,” and people become concerned that I’m tangled in some legal issue.

No, no.  It means packing up the van, sometimes driving a day, sometimes just for forty-five minutes to an hour–and spending two to three days getting up at 0-dark-thirty (usually 4:30, sometimes 4am) to arrive on site at 6:30 and spend the next eleven hours memorizing courses, walking courses, walking dogs, doing emotional and environmental management of dogs (huge!) and of course, those intense thirty to sixty second blasts through the course while–hopefully–grooving with the dog.

If you’ve never done this, you probably can’t imagine how all this effort is worth 90-180 seconds on the agility course.

The only answer I can give you is a big goofy grin.

Plus, of course, there’s the training. Lots and lots of that.  And it’s all time spent with the dogs.

This past AKC trial weekend?

Friday:

• It is HOT.
• Connery finishes his Novice FAST title!
• Belle earns Double Q  17/20 for her PAX2*!
• Dart Puppy learns what it means to be at a trial site!  He practices socialization!
• See neat people!
• My jaw goes WTF, that hurts!
• While juggling emergency dental appointment, begging indulgence from trial committee and affected judge to shift my jumpers runs back-to-back a couple hours ahead of schedule and simultaneously trying to prepare dogs for same, brain explodes, too.
• Brain explodes all over Connery’s jumpers run.  Ugly sight.
• Late to dentist.  Xrays, $$$, cracked tooth, inflamed toothbed…turns out if you lose a dog and don’t have the chance to grieve due to work stress, your body will find its way.  Nothing can be fixed immediately…plans are made for same.

Saturday:

• It is HOTTER.
• Fallout from brain explosion wipes out another run for ConneryBeagle, who begins to wonder where his real mom went.  Because he’s running first in each class today, he bears the brunt of the Stupids.
• Connery nails his other two runs in spite of his handler!
• Belle earns Double Q 18/20 for her PAX2!
• Dart Puppy shares his most mournful hound howl with the entire assembled trial contingent.  “Woe!” cries everyone within earshot.  “So sad!”
• Dart Puppy receives unofficial measurement by AKC rep and is found to (currently) be under 14″, a most exciting discovering!  (It is a critical determination of his agility career jump height.)
• See neat people!  Friend earns MACH!
• Jaw does not get any worse.

Sunday:

• We have MELTED.
• Brain returns!  One major Stupid Moment, compensated for.
• Connery nails all three of his runs, including a stupendous standard run!  Now has 2/3 of his Open FAST title!  Now has Double Q 19/20 for his MACH2!  (still needs lots of speed points, though)  That’s 7/9 runs for the weekend, totally in spite of Yours Truly.
• Belle earns Double Q 19/20 for her PAX2! She is six for six this weekend, with a great comeback after a season of increasing worries triggered by the stress of the January move.
• Dart Puppy is a Most Excellent Boy.  He loves his BONE.
• See neat people!  (sense a theme, there?)
• Jaw does not get any worse.  It ponders the dentist-filled week ahead.  I pretend not to know.

Sunday Evening:

• Come home, unload van with a mind to the two-day trial next weekend, feed annoyed horse, and sit stupidly in front of TV for the first time in a week.
• Best part?  Dog at my feet, dog at my side, dog in my lap.  All very happily exhausted.

Sunday PM not nearly as late as usual:

• My turn now.  Good night!

Monday Morning:

• What?  Already?

I think I’ll hit the rewind button to the part where I’m surrounded by happy, sleeping dogs…  And oh, yeah.  Just ignore this big goofy grin!

But wait! I’m doing this again next weekend!  It must be trialing season!

Belle (in late '07), by Doghouse Arts -- driving across the dogwalk

*PAX Title: The highest available title for a dog in Belle’s running class, earned even less frequently than the vaunted MACH.  In fact, clubs often don’t even bother to have the PAX poles and ribbons available; Belle was given a MACH pole & ribbon for her first PAX, and I’m guessing the same if we get this one.

…Monday

Yup, this is what we’ve been doing the past couple weekends.  Flying dogs.

Seriously!

Sometimes they don’t fly. Sometimes they get cocky, and crash and burn.  Sometimes they get worried, and then it’s more like a “meander” around the course–that happens to both of them, as Belle is a natural worrier and Connery still stresses when he’s not sure he’s safe (due to those horrifying giant-breed attacks when he was younger).

And then there are the courses. Sometimes the timing is awfully tight. Sometimes it’s just not physically possible to get from Here to There as a handler, when There is the spot that will tell the dog exactly what to do. Sometimes they’re just wicked, twisty, tricky…you look at the course map and go, “Buh..?” And maybe drool a little in stupefaction.

So on a course like that, I’ve got to handle on time, with my feet in exactly the right place, my hands in the right place (hands indicate a myriad of things, from direction to distance from handler), my verbals just soon enough to give guidance while not distracting the dog from obstacle performance. And the dog has to be appropriately focused–a balance of handler and obstacle focus–ready to listen while at the same time committing to the next obstacle with enough energy to navigate it.

All as fast as possible, of course. (PS and don’t get LOST!)

My guys tend to be careful and attentive, which means we Q on accuracy more than we blow out on speed. But every now and then it all comes together and we get the right course and the right level of canine cockiness and the right handler timing…

And that’s when dogs fly.

Belle takes on the tire with her little legs flung high out of the way. You can just see the glint of the blue speck inside her left brown eye. (This, and all of these pics, were taken by Bruce at BAMFoto)

She's not panting here--that's her happy running mouth. You can see it in most of her photos.

This one's got it all--the little blue eye dot, the happy mouth, the little front leg fling... Go, Belle, Go!

Connery hits those same weaves with fierce concentration (and the cutest little face!)

Typical Connery waiting at the start line. "HURRY MYMOM HURRY!"