I took all four dogs to the dog park and no one died.

Two marvelous things happened on Friday. I found myself with the day off, and it was nice out.

After a long Minnesota weather, I was eager to get out of the house, and I figured the dogs were, too, so I made the decision to take them all to the dog park. I don't usually take Napi to the dog park because of all the crazy, but I decided to take the risk for a number of reasons:

1. The dog park we go to is huge and wooded, limiting the amount of interaction you have with other dogs,
2. It was the middle of the day on a weekday, further limiting the number of folks that would be there,
3. Napi seems to have the highest energy level of my dogs, meaning he needed the exercise most, and
4. I wanted to see how he was doing on the meds.

This probably isn't something I'd recommend others do, but at the same time... well, it was nice out. And you can't keep your dogs in a bubble; you need to provide challenges from time to time. And it was nice out. Yeah, mostly we went because of cabin fever. I decided that we'd leave early if Napi really couldn't handle it, and I made him drag a leash so that if he was a jerk, I could easily intervene. (And I did several times.)

Napi actually did fairly well. Here's a video of early on in our park trip:



And here's one from the end of the park visit:



Both videos suck from a cinematic standpoint; I was more focused on him vs. keeping him in the frame. Sorry about that. Anyway, he did better the longer we were there - the opposite of how Maisy is/was.

In the first video, he was barking at that other dog. He would actually snap at other dogs that he thought were threatening. A few times he was right - one dog was super stiff in its body language, and another was bothering Maisy - and a few times I think he was just guarding me/my treats/his buddy Pyg.

The second video is even cooler. You can see him stiffen up when he sees another dog approaches (it's a Springer, not that you can tell), and he then chooses to come to me for a treat. So does the other dog, but Napi only growled a tiny bit (I can't even hear it on the video).

What these videos tell me is that while Napi still has a long way to go, he's making nice progress. He's learning to think a bit before reacting. He's able to exercise some small amounts of self control. He can recover quicker from stress than he could before. He sees me as a safe person he can depend on.

Despite all this, the dog park will not be a regular part of Napi's life. He's still practicing more bad behavior than I'd like, and besides, the park will only get busier and more crowded as it gets nicer out. I don't want to risk a dog fight, and I do think that's a distinct possibility. Still, it's nice to celebrate success with a reactive dog.

What is Success?

 
Before I started this blog, Maisy already had her first title- the APDT RL1 which she earned with an Award of Excellence- as well as her second- the RL1X. She had already had numerous placements in trials, including her first blue ribbons and high-scoring honors. She was well on her way to being nationally ranked.

My mindset matched her accomplishments. I had dreams of high level titles, starting with the ARCH, but eventually tackling the OTCh. That is, in fact, how my blog got its name.

But we haven't shown for a year now, and I don't know when we'll show next. Meanwhile, my friends continue to enter and excel at dog sports. While I'm happy for them, I've also been jealous, because I want to be out there with Maisy, showing the world how awesome she is. I've wanted to compete and win. I've wanted to be successful, too.

I've learned a lot since I started this blog, but I think the most important thing I've learned is that titles and placements and championships are not the only way to be successful. In fact, I still dream big. I still yearn for that championship title. I definitely hope we can be nationally ranked again, and I spend more time than I should obsessing about ribbons.

But I know that we don't need to compete to be successful, because I know now what success is:

Success is the quiet moments at home and afternoon puppy-naps.

Success is being able to walk your dog without having to scan the horizon for the unexpected.

Success is being the one your dog turns to when she's scared.

Success is learning how to read your dog's body language, and then respecting what it tells you.

Success is off-leash hikes in the woods. 

Success is being able to put your dog's needs before your own wants.

Success is knowing that your dog is awesome, not because she has letters before or after her name, but because she is herself.

That is success.

Training Tuesday: The “Good Lord Why Did I Decide to Do This?” Edition

Maisy and Malcolm doing the relaxation protocol.

It has been two weeks since I instituted the “no more trials until I finish the relaxation protocol” rule, and as predicted, I’m hating myself already. (Actually, I started hating myself a week ago, but whatever.) Thankfully, I posted it quite publicly, and enough of my real life friends read this that I know I won’t be able to gracefully back out. This is good, because holy cow, this crap is boring. BORING.

It’s also working, thank god, because I don’t think I could sustain the motivation needed to get through this tedium if I wasn’t seeing glimmers of progress.

First and foremost, let it be known that the relaxation protocol, while challenging for the dog under any circumstance, is even more difficult when there are cats involved. Obnoxious, nosy, food-obsessed, den-loving, clicker-trained cats. In other words: they are constantly right there when the clicker, treats and/or crate comes out. Unfortunately, Maisy has a bit of a problem with resource guarding when it comes to the cats. This, combined with the fact that Maisy has self-appointed herself as the resident kitty cop, means that it can be very, very difficult to convince her to relax when they’re around. Which they are. Constantly.

While they slow the process down, their presence is a huge help. For one thing, they make an excellent distraction, though not as intense as what we might encounter at a trial. Beyond that, Maisy has a long history of rushing the cats and bowling them over, so when she is able to control those impulses around the kitties, I know we’re on the right track.

In fact, it was just one of those moments last week that helped me know that she’s making progress. During one session, one of the kitties did something that Maisy has decided is naughty, something that she would usually discipline them for. Her entire body tensed up, and she raised herself just slightly from the ground. But then she stopped herself, evidently thought about it, and quickly lowered herself back down. She wasn’t relaxed, exactly, but neither was she reacting mindlessly!

I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit lazy with it all. I just can’t bring myself to do it every day. We’ve done it 9 times over the last 14 days. It’s not perfect, but that’s not embarrassing, either. We advanced to day three in the relaxation protocol on our last session, although that session was a little rough. If the next one is as bad (she had a hard time staying in a down, although a sit isn’t really the end of the world), we’ll drop back down to day two for a bit. I’m also working on duration in the crate, and she’s currently managing quite well with a treat once every 60 seconds over the course of five minutes.

I could probably push her further faster, but I want to build this foundation strongly and carefully. As a result, I’m spending several sessions on each step, waiting until I see her relaxed before I move on. Some of the things I’m looking for includes being rolled on to one hip, rather than in a sphinx down, resting her chin on the ground, and taking treats softly instead of grabbing them roughly.

For her part, Maisy is loving this. She’s inside the crate before I can even get it fully set up. When I call her out, she jumps back in before I can break it down again. And every night, at about the time we do the protocol, she starts to whine and poke at the folded-up crate with her nose, all while looking at me hopefully.

Speaking of poking things with her nose, I think that my possibly hare-brained scheme, is working. It was quite easy to shape her to touch my leg, although she tends to think the proper location is in the left kneecap. That’s fine, really, and maybe even better than doing it anywhere else. After all, this way she’ll have to turn away from whatever’s bugging her in order to poke me there. It was a bit more work to convince her that she could poke me when I’m standing, too, but she figured that out.

Right now I’m in the process of assigning a verbal cue to the behavior. She’s got it about half the time, and once it’s a bit more solid, I’ll start cuing that behavior when she’s whining to get my attention. On one occasion, she did use the nose poke to communicate that she wanted something from me (a rawhide), so I think this could work. I must admit, I’m really excited about the possibility of reducing some of her whininess, although I’m aware that the poking could become even more annoying. I hope I don’t regret this!

Anyway, overall I’m very pleased with the progress she’s making. It’s slow, but I’m hoping that as she understands it better, we’ll be able to pick up the back a bit. I hope so, anyway, because at our current rate of progress, this will take six months otherwise! Although that sounds like forever, I know that the time investment will be worth it. I’ll keep you guys updated, of course!

You Can Take the Geek Away from the Dogs...

She's down there... somewhere...

On Tuesday night, I went to the Lady Gaga concert. Wait, wait! I promise this will relate to dog training. After all, you can take the geek away from dogs, but you can’t… stop her… from thinking about dogs? I don’t know- I can’t make the metaphor work, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I know that The Lady is not for everyone, and that’s fine. I’m not here to convince you that she’s the best thing to hit the airwaves in the last 10 years (although, in my opinion, she is. Before that, the best thing was Bree Sharp). But no matter if you love her or hate her, I think we can learn from her. As a result, I present to you…

The Top Four Things I Learned About Dog Training from Lady Gaga

1. Success takes hard work.
When Lady Gaga puts on a show, she goes all out. I was amazed by the fact that she could dance that well for that long. I mean, over 2 hours of all-out cardio would probably cause me to die of a heart attack. Not her, though. It’s clear that she’s put a lot of effort into her stage show, plus, she writes all of her own lyrics and plays the piano. She’s worked hard to get where she is.

Don’t get me wrong- success also takes talent, and a little bit of luck. But far and away, the most important ingredient for success is working hard. This means taking the time to build strong foundations for our dogs, proofing the exercises through increasing distractions, and educating ourselves on the best ways to train.

2. It’s not all about you.
Lady Gaga’s stage show was one-part charity fundraiser (for Re*Generation, a charity tackling youth homelessness), one-part social cause (gay rights, to which she devoted several songs), and one-part fan appreciation. The Lady really loves her fans, and she even delivered a lovely message that at the end of the night, we shouldn’t love her more, but rather, love ourselves more.

I suspect that the people who read my blog will agree with me: Dog sports are not all about us, the handlers. Part of why I enjoy training and trialing is the bond that I form with my dog in the process. I love the way it deepens our relationship. And I constantly remind myself that I will never sacrifice my dog’s well-being for the sake of a title. My dog doesn’t “owe” me anything, and her purpose is not to make me look good or to stroke my ego about what a good trainer I am. We’re a team. If she’s not having fun, if she doesn’t want to do it, that’s it. We’re done.

3. You have to follow your dreams.
Lady Gaga is really all about embracing your “inner freak.” She acknowledged that sometimes the media sends awful messages about how we ought look and think and act, but that we shouldn’t let society’s judgments stop us from being who we are, or who we want to become.

I think it’s easy to become discouraged sometimes, especially when you have a non-traditional breed, or a Dog with Issues. And yes, it will be more difficult for my friend and her greyhound to do obedience, or for Maisy to become a champion. We might never get there- see point 2 above- but that doesn’t mean we should give up before we even start.

4. Live in the moment.
I know this might sound odd, given Lady Gaga’s over-the-top costumes, crazy antics, and general theatrics, but the overall vibe I got from her was that of humility and thankfulness. She seems to know that popularity can be fleeting, and she doesn’t take that for granted. I think she’s loving every minute of what she’s got, knowing that it might be gone next year.

And isn’t that an important message for us all? It’s easy to dream big, or to get so focused on what we want that we forget to appreciate what we have right now. No matter where we are, whether it’s winning first place in the ring, or napping in the back yard with our dogs, we should appreciate that moment for everything that it is.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

Working with a reactive dog is slow, painstaking work. It's hard to tell if you're making any progress at all, especially in the beginning. Gradually, your dog reacts less often, and the intensity is reduced, but because these changes happen in such small increments, you often don't notice until something huge happens.

Something huge happened this week.

Way back in the beginning, when I first learned that Maisy is reactive, one of the first triggers I identified was bikes. Oh, did she have some over-the-top displays around bikes. She barked. She growled. She rushed after them. Mostly, I think she wanted to chase them, but that impulse came out all sideways and backwards. It embarrassed me, and it scared me a little, so we started going to classes. I learned the skills needed to keep her under threshold, and I began to counter-condition her like crazy. Slowly, slowly, she's improved.

I knew that, of course, but it wasn't until this week that I really appreciated how far she's come. My husband and I were walking near a park with her at dusk, and there was a large group of pre-teens hanging out. As we neared a street corner, this whole pack of them- 8 or 10, I think- got on their bikes. As we headed into the intersection, so did the kids on their bikes, looping in huge circles and yelling to one another.

We were surrounded. Bikes, yelling children, fast movement- a year ago, Maisy would have lost it. Now? She looked at the bikes, did the doggy equivalent of shrugging her shoulders, and popped into heel position, where she never took her eyes off me.

It took a lot of self-control for her to resist the temptation to chase and bark at the loud, quickly moving bikes, and yet she was able to not only get through a tough situation, but was able to offer up some gorgeous heeling, too! Needless to say, I was so proud!

Whose responsibility is it, anyway?

Over on her blog, Kim asked “How much responsibility do you take for your dog’s reactions to things, and how he acts?” It’s a really fantastic post, full of questions but no answers- which makes it even better, in my opinion, since it lets you think through the answers for yourself.

And really, the answers are yours, and yours alone. After all, no two dogs are going to be alike, nor are any two handlers alike. I really think that the amount of responsibility we take for our dogs’ actions depends on the personalities involved.

Because of each of our personalities, when things go wrong with Maisy, I tend to assume that it was my fault. Maisy is a wonderful dog. She is smart and creative, tributes which have taught me the necessity of being clear in my requests. A failure for her to do something, and especially when she’s learning something new, is usually my fault, not hers.

I’ll never forget the exact moment I realized this, just over a year ago. I’d been trying to teach Maisy left pivots for what felt like forever. We’d done rear-end awareness exercises, like brick work, I’d tried luring and shaping her, and she just wasn’t getting it. But I knew she was smart, and since I’d tried several different training approaches, I decided to look at what I was doing. I realized that my body language was confusing her: my left shoulder was hunched forward, which was one of my nonverbal cues to move forward. I tried a huge, exaggerated backward movement with my shoulder, and she practically raced backwards!

This is true with known behaviors, too. Fronts get crooked if I hold my hands differently. Stays are broken if I don’t maintain eye contact with her. Seemingly small differences have huge impacts on her behavior.

There are also times where her failure is the result of my pushing her too far, too fast. I’m terribly impatient sometimes, which is definitely detrimental in the training process. For example, there have been times when I’ve called her and she hasn’t come. While she may be blowing me off for something more interesting, a close examination of the circumstances reveals the fact that I haven’t adequately proofed the exercise. Every time she’s “blown off” a recall, it’s been in a situation with higher distractions or longer distances than I’ve trained for.

But what about the times where she thoroughly understands the exercise, and where I’ve proofed it for the current level of distraction, distance and duration? Aren’t those failures her responsibility? Maybe… but maybe not. And here’s where another element of Maisy’s personality really informs my decision: She is a dog who wants to please me… at least enough to earn the reinforcement that might be waiting! As a result, I don’t assume that she is being willfully disobedient, at least not for the sake of being disobedient.

Last summer, she began to refuse jumps, even in the back yard. We’d been working on jumping in the backyard all summer, so I knew that she understood what I wanted. I was pretty sure I wasn’t doing anything different, so I was perplexed as to why she was failing to do what I asked. It was only later that I discovered that she’d pulled her iliopsis muscle. She wasn’t refusing to jump- she couldn’t jump, at least, not without pain! I’m glad I didn’t punish her failure to respond- I would have felt awful!



And then there’s stress… Maisy is insanely sensitive to my moods (can you say “ring nerves”??), and she finds certain places, sounds and sights kind of scary. When Maisy fails to respond during these times, I don’t blame her for it. I can’t. I’ve been in situations in which I was so shocked or scared that I felt like I couldn’t move. It’s a horrible feeling, so I have empathy for Maisy when it happens to her. It may not be my fault that she isn’t responding, but it isn’t really hers, either.

There’s also my personality to consider in all of this. I am a person who naturally takes on a lot of responsibility… some might call it guilt. Add to that the fact that I’m a hopeless perfectionist who is harder on herself than on others, and it’s not hard to understand why I take responsibility for Maisy’s failures more often than I blame her.

I recently had someone say to me, “I didn’t fail, I just didn’t succeed.” That’s how I feel about Maisy: her failures are never final, and there’s always another chance to get it right. Does that mean we might NQ at a trial? Oh, definitely, but it doesn’t really matter who screwed it up. In the end, all that really matters is the fact that we got to play the game together.

One Week

It's been one week since Maisy and I encountered the off leash dog that may or may not have been attacking her. I've decided to view it as an attack, not because I know the other dog's motives, but because of how Maisy perceived it; there has been some fall-out as a result of the encounter, both physically and emotionally.

Physically
Twenty-four hours post-attack, I noted that Maisy was limping slightly. Well, limping is probably the wrong word. She looked stiff in the hips, and when she walked, her legs rotated in a figure-8 type pattern instead of moving smoothly forward and back.

I treated Maisy with arnica every 12 hours for the first three days, then daily until I ran out. I know a lot of people look down on homeopathy, but as soon as I ran out of this natural anti-inflammatory, Maisy began to have symptoms of pain, primarily through excessive, heavy panting. (Then I treated her with buffered aspirin.)

We went to her veterinary chiropractor today, and I just have to say, if you're in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area, you really ought to check out Dr. White at Whole Health Vet. They are always so wonderful about taking the time to listen to my concerns, evaluate Maisy, and provide excellent care. Maisy is still stiff, but she's moving so much better tonight.

Emotionally
The most interesting thing is that Maisy is now afraid of hedges. She is also much more nervous while on our walks. Overall, she enjoys them, but if she hears a dog bark, her mouth gets hard. She has, at times, entirely refused to walk, though I can't parse out how the physical effects and emotional effects are interacting.

She was much more on edge at our reactive dog class last night, though. She looked at the other dogs much more frantically, became upset (indicated to me through a hard mouth and a "wild look" about her) when they moved around, especially when she was watching the other dogs do off-leash recalls.

She didn't actually have an episode of reactivity, but she did make some attempts at lunging. Each time, though, she interrupted herself and returned to me. There were many, many cookies handed out, and I am so, so proud of her. She was legitimately stressed by the situation- our classmates are all larger dogs, one looks a lot like the dog who attacked her, the room had been rearranged, she was in pain, and there was a new dog last night. And even so, despite all of that, she was able to remember that she shouldn't lunge, and continued to work with me. This really gives me a lot of encouragement for the future.

Going Forward...
I know we have a lot of work to do. I will need to lower my criteria for awhile on acceptable behaviors around other dogs. I'll need to make situations easier, too- crowded trials will have to wait for awhile. However, I am optimistic that we can return to our previous level of functioning, and I am told that the behavior will even be stronger afterward.

I have become less tolerant of loose dogs, though. I have paired citronella spray with treats, so Maisy is not bothered by it being sprayed very near her. All loose dogs will be treated to a lovely citrus perfume from now on, regardless of whether they look friendly or not. I don't want to take any more chances, and I want Maisy to learn that I will do my best to defend her from unsolicited visitors.

Hopefully, this will be my last post on the topic. For one thing, it's not the most interesting thing to write about, and for another, I'm optimistic that this will be just a temporary blip in the radar with no significant side effects.

2010 Goals: First Quarter Update!

So, it’s been three months since I set my 2010 dog training goals, and I thought it would be nice to evaluate our progress so far. Overall, there’s been some great successes, some moderate progress, and a few places where I’ve dropped the ball entirely.

Goal: Complete the relaxation protocol.
Progress: We did the relaxation protocol daily for several weeks, getting to the point where I was ready to progress to the “second day” of the protocol… but then petered out.
Looking Forward: Doing the relaxation protocol is a bit boring, especially to do it every day. This quarter I’ll try to work on it once or twice a week.

Goal: Increase Maisy’s physical exercise.
Progress: I feel like we made a ton of progress here! Unfortunately, the numbers disagree: I walked Maisy 47 out of 90 days, which is a success rate of only 52%. Still, this does include the month of January, when we had sub-zero temperatures for the first two weeks, as well as the two weeks at the beginning of March when I had pneumonia.
Looking Forward: I am anticipating even more progress next quarter. The thing that really surprises me here is how much I love walking Maisy. I actually tried to walk her while I had pneumonia because I missed it so much.

Goal: Develop novice obedience stays.
Progress: None. Haven’t even tried. Oops!
Looking Forward: I would like to spend some of my Five Times Challenge time on this goal.

Goal: Improve heeling so that we can complete a novice-level heeling pattern.
Progress: I’ve really built a lot of attention into her heeling. I’m getting excellent eye contact through the first several steps of heeling, and she often offers a nice, attentive heel during the off-leash portion of our walks.
Looking Forward: I’m hoping to continue to build these skills. First, I need to work on improving duration. Then, I want to work on reducing food treats. Finally, I’ll need to drop the verbal encouragement, as well. That’s three sub-goals, and I have three quarters of the year left. Neat!

Goal: From heel position, hit the proper front position on the first try.
Progress: Some progress seen. She’s usually getting heel position on the first or second try, but not yet from heel position.
Looking Forward: I’d like to spend some of my Five Times Challenge time on this goal, too.

Goal: Develop jumping skills for a recall over high and directed jumping.
Progress: I was able to send her over a jump from heel position during a trial in February, and one of those times, we were six feet away- the required distance to avoid taking a 3 point deduction!
Looking Forward: I learned at the Suzanne Clothier seminar that due to Maisy’s structure, jumping will probably never be her strong suit. We’ll continue to work on it in small pieces, and I think a jump or two will be doable for her.

Goal: Reduce ring nerves.
Progress: I did get through a trial without using stomach medications, which was a huge improvement! I did this by using Rescue Remedy. Unfortunately, I was so nervous that the judge actually took me aside and had me smell an essential oil to help me relax a little. Oops.
Looking Forward: I have an appointment at the end of April to get hypnotized to help deal with my ring stress. Hopefully it helps, but if not, I suspect I’ll talk with the therapist about some visualization and other exercises to incorporate.

Goal: Complete ARCH.
Progress: Maisy completed her Level 2 title in February, which was the first step towards the ARCH.
Looking Forward: She already has enough Level 1 points, so we just need 40 Level 2 points and 5 QQs. I don’t think we’ll actually achieve all that this year unless we travel, and that, of course, is going to be dependent on whether or not I can get my ring nerves under control.

Goal: Get one leg towards a CD (any venue).
Progress: None officially, but we are working on the skills necessary (heeling, etc.).
Looking Forward: I’ll probably try St. Hubert’s CDSP program first. The problem with that is that the only local trials are held in conjunction with APDT rally… and that might be too much for one day since I want to work on her QQs then.

The Five Times Challenge: Week 1 Update

It’s been just over a week since I started the Five Times Challenge. I still really like it; my biggest difficulty has been tracking the sessions. I don’t have the best memory, and though I’ve been trying to make a hash mark on my training board when I complete a session, I’ve forgotten to do this a lot. The upside of this is that Maisy has probably gotten more than five sessions on several days.

There have also been days where we haven’t been home much, either because we’ve been at a friend’s house, or because we’ve been at training class. On these days, I’ve tried to work in sessions, either while waiting for my husband to run an errand, or while in the waiting room at the vet’s, or even while waiting for pizza to be delivered! So, on those days, we may get fewer sessions in, but we get the added bonus of a new environment.

This is the beauty of the Five Times Challenge: since it’s so quick, it’s easy to sneak in some practice in other environments. I’m taking advantage of those natural times in life where you have to wait for something. There isn’t time for a full 20 minute session, but a few steps of heeling? No problem!

The progress Maisy has made has been amazing. I’m getting some very nice attentive heeling, and my instructor even commented last night that Maisy’s heeling looked really nice.

But, my favorite moment happened on Monday night. My husband needed to run to the credit union, and we tagged along. It was beautiful out, so instead of waiting in the car, we hung out on a busy street corner in downtown St. Paul. Since we’d been in a hurry to leave, I’d forgotten to bring treats (bad trainer), but luckily there was a ball in the car. Normally, I don’t train with the ball; Maisy is borderline OCD about balls, and when she sees them, it’s like her brain falls out of her head.

So here we are, on a busy street corner at rush hour, in a location Maisy has never been before, outside a credit union, which means people are coming and going, and I’m holding a ball. An exciting, enticing ball. And my Maisy was able to take one whole step of attention heeling.

I know that doesn’t sound like a lot- one step? That’s it?- but trust me, for a fearful dog with reactivity and a lot of difficulty with focus on concentration, it was absolutely beautiful.

Defining Success

Today was the first day of the UKC trials, and Maisy and I were entered in level 1 of rally.

How did we do? Well, it depends on how you define success. If you define success by ribbons and placements and scores, we didn't do so hot. She scored an 88, which was well below the placements, and frankly, well below her abilities.

Still, I'm going to call the day successful. Sure, I'm mildly disappointed with our score, but Maisy was surprisingly relaxed for being at a trial! She only "wuffed" twice, which is her "I'm on alert" noise, but she was controlled and didn't display any reactivity. For most of the time, she had relaxed body language- looseness through her whole body, a slow, soft helicopter tail, and a happy, open-mouthed expression on her face. She warmed up well, very attentive and snappy, and while she wasn't quite as precise as she is at home, she had excellent enthusiasm.

I'm not sure what happened when we went in the ring. She became distracted and disengaged from me. She sniffed a lot, and twice she had to stop, sit and scratch herself. Those are stress displacement behaviors, and I haven't seen the scratching in a long time.

If we'd been at an APDT trial, I would have whipped out the treats to help transform the ring into a positive space. Since I couldn't do that, I simply waited patiently for her to finish scratching, praised her like crazy for her moments of attention (and really, she had some nice moments), and kept smiling. I knew our score was going to suck, and it didn't matter. Perhaps I should have left the ring. If she was so stressed that she disengaged from me, there wasn't much point in continuing. But I didn't think about that, and I'm not sure how to leave the ring gracefully.

We show again tomorrow, and I need to give some serious thought into going in, doing one or two signs successfully, and then leaving. Of course, I know that if we get a couple of really good signs, I'll want to push for more, for the whole course, so I'm going to have to decide what to do in advance... I'm not sure what my other options are.

What would you do if you were in this situation?