You see, it’s weather-watching time, as TD Sunday approaches. (Yup, I’m writing this on Saturday. Sunday will be…busy.)
There are those of you out there who probably think this is some oblique reference to the Superbowl, which is not a recognized date in my house, other than the fact that the roads are blessedly clear of traffic during certain hours of that day.
No, TD = tracking dog. Around here, it’s a test we have once a year. And it’s the sort of test that’s so dependent on circumstances–weather, terrain, bunnies, judging decisions–that even if you and the dog are Ready, it can all still go very, very wrong.
One does not get cocky about a tracking test at any level.
I think that Dart is ready, if still very green. He’s enthusiastic, driven, and he knows what his job is.
But that Mother Nature!
Over the course of the week, the forecast for Sunday has gone from calm with the slight potential of rain (not the worst thing that could happen) to calm (yay!) to cloudy (fine) and then, between Friday night and Saturday morning, to strong winds with wicked strong gusts.
(Not that I’ve been watching.)
As you may guess, even if you’ve never trained a tracking dog, this is not ideal tracking weather. What we won’t know, until we get there, is whether it’s a decently consistent wind, or whether it’s suck-n-gust.
Well, by the time you read this, all will have been answered. I may even add a little something here to indicate how it went…unless I’m out sulking and kicking at dust devils. But meanwhile, here are images from Dart’s final training track before the test… (watch that tail wag…)
Already on the track, heading for the start article...
Sniffy sniffy sniffy--about to navigate Cactus Row
And off we go! He's decided he's sure of himself and he's about to put our brush-navigating skills to the test
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
It’s been cold out and it looks like it’s going to stay that way, with nightly single digits and persistent snow.
We’ve stocked up on wood pellets–a ton of them!
We’ve pulled out all the extra blankets and layers.
We have eggnog.
Also, we have Beagles. Never is it more evident that the Beagle–as opposed to the Cardigan Welsh Corgi–is a pack dog. This is when the boys out-snuggle, out-cozy, and out-cute the rest of the world.
Awww!
Awww, yawning!
AWWWW!!!
Like the rest of us have any chance at all.
PS Bonus smile: Here’s ConneryBeagle just learning how to walk on a treadmill for his stifle rehab.
For Dart Beagle, it’s a constant battle, especially when it comes to the agility field. Brilliance vs impulse? Oh, choices, choices…
The problem for me is, the impulsive behavior is instantly, profoundly self-rewarding. WHEEEEEE! The correct behavior on the agility field–where cookies and toys aren’t allowed–is more of a long-term reward. First, lots of partying at the end of the run.
(Well. If he makes it to the end of the run.)
Second, the gradual realization that the partnership itself is the rewarding thing.
Belle Corgi has always known that final lesson. For her, it was always about what we did together.
Connery loves the partnership–he’s happiest when he feels we’re running the courses together, which means I run alongside him rather than taking an easier handling path. And he is totally about the party–the celebration of self before he runs:
Me: Are you ready?
Connery: YES I AM BAWHHHH!
Not to mention the celebration of BAWHSOMENESS after he’s run. Oh, cookies! Oh Go-Dog sports drink! Oh race-to-the-crate! Oh BAWH!
Neither of them are impulsive dogs.
D’Artagnan Beagle = Prince of Impulse.
His training isn’t the problem. His understanding of the task at hand isn’t the problem. The problem occurs in that one stride when he hits full speed and his brain says, “WHOO HOO LET’S–”
…take all these jumps in an order of my choosing!
…fly out of the ring at top speed to visit that totally strange dog who wants nothing to do with me!
…visit that nice pole setter!
My challenge is ongoing, and the process is very much one step ahead, ten steps behind. Although I couldn’t ask for a better first four obstacles here… Those weaves–! Yeah!
So never mind the trial prep training. Never mind the entry fees. Never mind getting to the trial site, the hotel cost, walking and memorizing the course, or the moments of pre-course doggy psychology. The consequences of “WHOO HOO LET’S–!” turns out to be the end of the fun. No more WHOO, no more HOO. Just, “Oh, dear, I guess you made a bad choice there,” and a boring free heel out of the ring.
Only time will tell if the Impulsive Evil will succumb to consequences, and the Brilliance will out. Until then…it’s all about the willpower. Because looking down into that dismayed little face to say, “Oh, dear, I guess you made a bad choice there” while the rest of the course still stretches out before you…
Oh, I feel the lure of that Impulsive Evil myself!
Not exactly in the way I had planned, though. More like in a Keystone Cops way.
This past weekend we went to an agility trial. Also, we had Weather, to the tune of slashing ran, gale force winds, and brrrrcold. And we started out with ground frosty and frozen over recent irrigation.
So on Friday, ConneryBeagle went flying…right through the double jump.
On Saturday, Dart Beagle went flying…blown right off the dogwalk.
On Sunday, which was calm, cold, and sunny, Dart Beagle headed across the dogwalk and went, “Oh! Yesterday I went flying off this thing!” and promptly tied his legs in knots and flew off again.
On the other paw…
Connery ran strong this past weekend, and looked as good as he has since we started the merry-go-round of his magical inhaler vs the side effects of same. It’s three months since he started using it, and it’s obvious that it’s not possible to completely resolve his idiopathic headaches, infections, and inflammation without screwing up the rest of his body. It’s just a matter of finding a decent balance, and hoping for a shift toward overall improvement over time.
But hey! He Q’d on all his courses except for the one on which he slipped, and he did it with happy vigor.
His jumping style is awry in this photo, but I love it for his soft, intense little expression
And while Dart was busy flying off the dogwalk on the standard course, over on jumpers he qualified every day–if not, shall we say, without a whole lot of wing & a prayer (just to stick with the flying thing). All the same, he had some lovely moments, and I’m slowly learning the things he needs to stay confident. I’m changing my criteria for contact zone behaviors and I’m learning that he stresses when I decelerate, so I take that into account when I plan my course for him. It’s unavoidable, but sometimes it can be minimized.
Normally these three qualifying runs would have earned him a title–and I thought it had. Then I remembered that it takes three legs under TWO different judges, and at this particular trial there was only one judge. (It’s quite unusual just for that reason.) We’re traveling for the next trial, which may or may not explode his brain. We shall have to see!
Meanwhile, I have to admit…although my license plate says Air Beagle (well, all smashed together in 6 letters), this isn’t exactly the kind of flying I was thinking of. I hope that for a while, we stick to the flying that’s done ON PURPOSE!
PS BONUS VIDEO! This is a 360 pan of the sky right before it really opened up. At the time I was recording, it was raining lightly. And of course, the wind… (Note the clever movie file name. Yeah, yeah.)
Shame on you if you came here expecting to find anything other than Frenetic Random Acts of Play in this blog. Ahem.
It’s not meant to be a FRAP video at all. It’s meant to be a video of one of Dart’s weekend practice runs. I try to watch these as whenever I can get my hands on them, because I learn from them–how to support Dart better, and how to handle better in general.
Also, I learned how dorky it looks to run in riding sneakers, but I pretty much already knew that. The footing at this particular practice venue is a weird sand that gets in everything, though, so…riding sneakers it is.
But back to the FRAP. There’s a certain look to FRAPping that any dog owner knows…a certain tail posture, a little bit of a hump in the back…it often looks as though the dog is scooting away.
Lately, Dart’s been picking up a little speed during practice, and what I saw in Saturday’s video explains why. It’s a stealth FRAP. Not quite random, because…hey, he’s going where I tell him to go! (Including the moment when he goes where the course doesn’t…ahem.)
But check out that tail. Check out the moments he’s slingshotting out of the tunnel, or scooting around on a turn. You’ll see it. There’s a FRAP lurking there. The baby boy is figuring out just how fun this agility thing can be…
That business where he takes a sharp turn from the tunnel to the weaves? That was a stupendous weave entrance for a baby dog. However, it set us up very badly for the jump-jump-tunnel sequence afterward, because I should have done a front cross before the weaves; the two errors he made after that were caused entirely because I didn’t. Which I knew might happen, but I wasn’t sure Dart was up to it. Retrospective wisdom: should have tried. But that’s why he’s getting praise for doing it wrong (and then louder praise for doing it right).
Anyway, I love watching that video. To me it speaks of a lot of fun to come…
As in, “Whoops, I did it again!” No blog first thing in the morning!
Well, I’m just trying to keep you all on your toes.
So while I am off in la-la land, working on various “how come all these things are happening at once, anyway?” projects, I offer a piece of silliness. Not to mention, there at the end, the obvious evidence for why a certain Beagle does indeed need to learn where his legs are.
Well, Connery has been out of sorts this past week, thanks to a rising eye and sinus infection. These things are subtle with him–hard to diagnose–but he’s on meds now and shows signs of feeling better.
I’m all the more determined to get him in for a CT scan in early August, before it’s simply too late to deal with the cause (if in fact the cause can be dealt with at all). There’s been some offhand mention of the potential for cutting his little Beagle head open, but I DON’T THINK SO is where I stand on that.
Sobering.
So what’s the antidote to a week of worrying about Beagle One?
EVIL DART BEAGLE!
Evil Dart Beagle (say that with affection!) is one of those crazy dogs who, in fact, has little awareness or concern about what any given body part is doing at any given time. He’s the dog who’ll fly off the A-Frame because WHO CARES! He’s the dog who’ll scramble across the dogwalk with one or two limbs catching air over the side at any given time, because WHO CARES!
When a dog has no body awareness, it’s really hard to teach him things like “do a nice straight SAFE splat at the bottom of the contact obstacle.” Or a straight recall in obedience, or a nice heel-sit. He’s got no idea he’s crooked in the first place, or that his sloppy butt-sit has pointed his hind legs in so many different directions at once.
This is also the dog who has no idea he’s digging his claws into the tops of your bare feet, or that he’s just atomically vibrated himself up into your face right as you bend over, or that you really didn’t need that nose broken.
So for his sake and mine, Evil Dart Beagle is learning that he has legs, and he’s learning where his legs attach, and what they do when he might otherwise not be paying attention. And this is how I’m doing that…
PS: This is in gallery set-up, so clickie on the piccie for something larger…
Goal: a tidy splat (down) on the railroad tie. Results? Typical. “Whutever!” says the leg.
Oops, got the back leg, now losing the front end…
Putting it all together! Tidy!
The Goal? A tidy sit on the bucket. [delete all the scrambling, bucket-tipping, leg-sprawling initial moments, skip to...sending to the bucket!]The initial assault–without tipping the bucket over.
Spinning like a Quarter Horse!
Sitting neatly to face me, with vibrating tail…
Again, with the tail–it’s wagged itself out of sight. Note the expert head tilt here. Beagle bucket bravado!
This weekend, the Beagles went flying.
Normally these three qualifying runs would have earned him a title–and I thought it had. Then I remembered that it takes three legs under TWO different judges, and at this particular trial there was only one judge. (It’s quite unusual just for that reason.) We’re traveling for the next trial, which may or may not explode his brain. We shall have to see!
