First Level 3 Leg (WCRL)

I really haven't done any training with Maisy in a year. First she got so sick, then I got Pyg, then I moved in with two more dogs, and... well, yeah. Despite that, I decided to enter her in Level 3 at the WCRL trial hosted by my breed club this weekend.

We've never done Level 3 before, and I was just tickled pink by her performance:


She scored 200 (we didn't get any bonus points because hey, you can't retry a bonus exercise- I had no idea!- and in looking at the video, the reason we failed was a lack of clarity on my part... which training would have helped) and got 1st place!

I wanted to try for her title, but then she threw up all over, so we went home again. Very happy with my little muppet dog. 

ARCH Maisy!

We did it! Maisy got her ARCH this weekend! This has been a long-term goal of mine, and one that I had feared would be unattainable. And yet… we did it!

The ARCH is a multi-level APDT/WCRL rally obedience championship title. In order to earn the ARCH, you must first earn the level 1 and level 2 titles. Then you must earn a Q in both level 1 and level 2 at the same trial. Each Q must have a score of 190 or higher. And you need to do this 5 times. While you are doing this, you have to earn points; you get 1 point for a score of 191, 2 points for a score of 192, and so on. You need 100 points, 30 from level 1, 30 from level 2, and the remainder from either class.

And we did it!

For a long time, I didn’t think it would be possible because getting the double-Q means you are at a trial for a long-ish period of time. In 2010, Maisy’s limit was about 2 hours; not enough time to earn the QQs. I finally pulled her from competition because she was getting worse at trials (behavior-wise, I mean; her scores were always decent), not better. We didn’t return to APDT rally until April of this year when we earned 2 QQs towards the ARCH.

I was hoping- but not expecting- to earn the ARCH on Saturday. To do so would require doing six rally runs for 3 QQs, and doing them well. It would require Maisy to do what I told her, and for me to cue her correctly. Oh, and I had to actually, you know, do all the signs (I seem to have a harder time with that than I should!).

But we did it!

It was a long day. We got to the trial site around 7:30am, and didn’t leave until 4:30 or so. After earning her first perfect 210 in the first run of the day (which yay!), her scores steadily went downhill. By the end of the day, she was T-I-R-E-D despite the naps she was able to take in the car between runs (it was mid-60s, a serious stroke of good luck for a July trial!). In fact, she was so tired that as we approached the sixth, and last, run of the day, I was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to score high enough in order to finish her ARCH.

Best. Scoresheet. Ever. 

So I got out a secret weapon: sugar. There have been some recent studies showing that performance improves when a dog gets a glucose boost, so I went for it. I emptied two sugar packets into my hands, and she ate those suckers up. Fifteen minutes later we were back in the ring and…

We did it! A score of 206 (her second best of the day!), and her ARCH.

The final tally was six runs, scores ranging between 194 and 210, four 2^nd places, one 3^rd place, one 4^th place, her ARCH, and she was the high-scoring mixed breed for the day! I am so, so, so, so proud of her.

Also, I'm bringing jelly beans instead of dog treats to trials from now on.  

APDT/WCRL Rally Trial Report!

Last Saturday, Maisy and I went to an APDT/WCRL trial hosted by our breed club, the Minnesota Mixed Breed Club. It was a smashing success in a lot of ways!!

Maisy's Reactivity

It feels weird to write that heading; I don't really think of Maisy as reactive anymore. Still, I know that the neural pathways for reactivity will always be in her brain. They may become dusty or overgrown, but in times of stress, she may head down that path. Because of that, I continue to be cautious about what I expose her to.

This trial was no exception. I pre-entered Trial 1, Levels 1 and 2, figuring I could enter Trials 2 and 3 if she was doing well. I wasn't sure how she'd do because previous to this, the longest she could stay at a trial before getting stressed was about two hours.

Well, by the time Trial 1 was over, we'd blown past the two hour mark. We were closer to four, actually, and Maisy was fine. Well, she'd barked a few times while she was in her crate and I was away (walking the course, chatting, whatever), but I wasn't too worried about that. I decided to enter her in a few more runs. Because Trials 2 and 3 were being run simultaneously, I went ahead and day-of-show entered her in Levels 1 and 2 in both.

Maisy did great up until the six hour mark, when she got a bit edgy. Nothing big, just a small bark and lunge toward a white shepherd. (Of course she did that right after I bragged to the judge about how she used to be reactive!) Although I was bummed by that, she did come right back to me. I moved her to the car crate so she could get some downtime, and she was able to come back in to work with no problem.

All in all, she spent 9.5 hours at the trial! Other than being very tired by the end, she did very, very well. Crating in the car was clearly the right choice because as I was trying to pack up our stuff, she kept going in the crate in the building to eat her chewy... something she won't do if she's stressed. I was really proud of her!

Ring Nerves

Another huge success came with my ring nerves. They've always been bad. Seriously bad. Like can't-eat-and-need-stomach-meds bad. Of course, Maisy would realize that, and between the two of us, we'd end up in an out of control anxiety spiral.

I did get nervous a few times while at the trial, but it was nowhere near as bad as it has been in the past. I've started a meditation practice over recent months, so every time I felt the nerves fluttering up, I would close my eyes and take a few deep breaths the way I do during my formal sitting times. Then I would gaze into Maisy's face, continue breathing, and tell myself that I was calm, I was relaxed, I was at ease, I was having fun.

And I was! Meditation is amazing.

The Results

Okay, okay. Yes, I need to tell you how we did. Maisy and I did a total of six runs:

Trial 1, Level 1: 206, 4^th place, A nice run. Nothing to really say about it.

Trial 1, Level 2: 206, 3^rd place, Another nice run, and probably my favorite. When we got to the moving down sign (not a true moving down, the dog just needs to down instead of sit when you halt), Maisy did a play bow instead of a down. I laughed hysterically because it was so ridiculously funny.

Trial 2, Level 1: NQ, I missed a sign. No, I missed the last sign. Seriously didn't even see it. The judge (Charlene Swainamer, who was awesome and I loved her) was so sad. It would have been a 206 if it hadn't been for that missed sign. I shrugged, told her it happened, and that we still had fun. I meant it, too.

Trial 2, Level 2: NQ, Again, my fault. We got to a sign where you halt and leave the dog and I got confused over what to do, handled Maisy poorly, and she broke the stay. I looked back to the judge, who confirmed it was an NQ, and took advantage of this fact to reinforce the really nice moments of heeling with cookies. Afterward, the judge was practically crying. She was so sweet; she really liked Maisy and was so bummed out for us. I told her was just a dog show and that it really didn't matter. She agreed, but was still sad. I told her that honestly, I didn't care. And you know, I've said that before, but inside I was still totally disappointed and upset. Saturday I wasn't. So we NQ'd. Big deal.

Trial 3, Level 1: 205, 3^rd place, A nice run. Nothing to report... well, except we clearly need to proof against the presences of Auntie Sara. Maisy got distracted when she saw her ringside. It was kind of cute, actually.

Trial 3, Level 2: 197, 4^th place, We lost ten points on the bonus because Maisy did not do the moving down (a true one this time), even though she'd done it flawlessly in Trial 2. I wasn't upset, though. She was just so very tired.

In the end, we picked up two QQs towards our ARCH (out of five needed), and 23 Level 2 points (you need a total of 100, 30 from Level 1, 30 from Level 2, and the remaining from either level. We have plenty of Level 1 points).

The Aftermath

I gave Maisy a preemptive clonidine when we got home so she would be able to sleep. I think that was a good choice, because she didn't sleep in bed with me that night. (A sure sign, if a bit unusual, of stress.) On Sunday, she was tired, tired, tired. My friend Laura came over with her dogs Piper and Allister to go for a walk. Maisy hid. When we left, I asked her if she wanted to go and instead of bouncing around, she lowered her head and avoided contact. Poor baby.

I felt bad for her, but it had been a big week for her; a party the weekend before with 5 or 6 dogs in the house, a modeling job on Wednesday, and then the trial. In July, we'll try another full day, and if it's still hard for her, we'll cut back on the length of time we spend at trials in the future. I don't think we'll need to, though. She's amazing!

Maisy CD-C!

Maisy finished her CDSP Novice Obedience title yesterday. Here's her run:



She scored a 183, which is really quite good considering her... creative... heeling during the figure 8. I'm not sure what that was all about, although I have some ideas. Notably, I have done practically no training with her. I had good intentions, but I've been busy at work and something had to give. And since I enjoy hiking with her more than training, well... the training gave.

I had also given her a clonidine that morning, just to be safe. I did that partly because her favorite auntie and best doggie friend slept over the night before the trial (and good stress is still stress, after all), and because after the last trial, I thought maybe having it on board in advance would help. It did not. It's supposed to calm a dog down, and it calmed her just a bit too much. I think if she'd had more spunk, she wouldn't have lagged as bad. Oh well- now I know. We'll only use it when she's getting over the top.

I'm really pleased with her performance. Her heeling, while not great, really wasn't that bad. She absolutely nailed the honor exercise (I wish I'd gotten video!), and the judge complimented her very nice stand for exam.

Anyway, this means that my recovering reactive dog is now URO1 Maisy CD-C, RL2, RL1X, CGC.

CDSP Trial: 2nd Novice B leg!

Maisy and I went to a CDSP obedience trial this weekend. Although she's not perfect (we had an NQ on our first run of the day- more on that later this week), she tries hard and is capable of some excellent work:



She received a 197 for 4th place. She was also the high scoring mixed breed of the day! Go Maisy! 

URO1 Maisy Jane

After the obedience trial in December, I wasn’t sure what our competition future held. While she did very well, she was also very stressed afterwards- so much so, in fact, that if I hadn’t suspected that the hustle and bustle of Christmas was a contributing factor, I probably would have retired her for good right then and there. Instead, I decided to test this theory by taking her to one or more two trials. I figured that would allow me to make a better decision. So, on Saturday I took Maisy to a UKC rally trial and entered her in a single level 1 run.

She did great! She completed her URO1 title. I was pretty happy about that since we got the first two legs two years ago, and I’d sort of given up on completing it. I was even more excited to learn that she’d finished her title with a perfect score of 100 (our first perfect score ever!), which was good enough for first place, high scoring mixed breed dog, and high in trial!

I was really, really happy with the more subjective measures of her performance, too. She remained engaged with me for the entire course. She was quick to respond to my cues. Her little tail was wagging and happy, and she just overall looks loose and relaxed.



I think the best part, though, was that she wasn’t overly stressed by the whole thing. We had to wait for over an hour for our turn, and it was too cold to crate in the car, so she was right there ringside with everyone else. She laid in her crate the entire time, rolled over on a hip. She took treats with a soft mouth, and was happy to socialize with people without being frantic and over-the-top about it.

The trial site was crawling with triggers, too: dobies and shepherds and the sound of choke chains/slip collars and stressed people… I was worried. She did stare a bit, and she thought about rushing towards a weim at one point, but she was easily redirected. The only disappointing moment happened when I left her in her crate to go walk the course. A handler with a shepherd was warming up by playing tug only a few feet from Maisy’s crate, and she barked several times. That was unfortunate, but completely understandable… and it clearly didn’t affect her ability to bounce back and compete successfully.

The real test, though, came later. Since she was practically crawling out of her skin after the last trial, I was concerned about how she would be at home. She was definitely tired on Saturday afternoon, and slept like a rock. But after her nap, she bounced up, ready to play ball and go about her normal routine. There was no edginess either that night or the next day. She did bark a bit on Sunday, but nothing outside what a normal dog does.

All in all, I think it is safe to continue trialing with her. We will still take things slowly. Our next scheduled event is in April, when there are CDSP obedience and APDT rally trials being held together. My tentative plan is to enter one run, and then take stock of how her stress-levels are doing. If she’s doing okay I’ll either enter her in a second run that day, or I’ll enter her in one run the second day. I’m not sure which yet- nor am I sure if I’ll do CDSP or APDT.

No matter what I decide to do, our competition future is looking bright, and I am so proud of my Maisy!

Our Competition Future

You may have noticed that there was a distinct lack of performance-related items in my 2012 goals, especially in terms of titles and trials. This was no accident. Despite the fact that Maisy was a total rockstar at her first obedience trial last month, I'm still not sure what her competition future holds. Most notably, I'm not convinced that trialling is in her best interests.

The truth is, Maisy was stressed at the trial last month. She was less stressed than I've seen her in the past, which is great, but she was still stressed. She scratched herself in the ring. She mildly snarked at another dog in the crating area. She could not relax in her car crate, despite the many, many hours of practice we've put in over the past year. Once we got home, she jumped at every little sound, which broke my heart. I haven't seen her like that in a long time.

I love looking at this face in the ring.

Her score and performance were admirable in and of themselves, but once you know the back story? They become amazing! In fact, one of Maisy's greatest skills is her ability to work through stress. She might be freaking out, but she will still do her best for me. Although it would be easy to ignore her distress and put her through her paces, I just don't feel that's fair. I know there are people who disagree with me, or who think I'm worrying needlessly, or accuse me of being overprotective, but I am not willing to put my dog's comfort and happiness on the line simply for the glory of a ribbon or a title.

With all that said, I'm also not willing to give up on a promising performance career just yet. In retrospect, the trial was poorly timed. It came the day after Christmas, a holiday which is tense and stressful around my house, and Maisy is exquisitely sensitive to the moods of her people. Since my husband and I had a hard time keeping our own stress from boiling over, I am quite sure that at least some of her behavior at the trial was a result of what had happened in the days leading up to it.

More than that, even though she was stressed, she truly seemed to enjoy some aspects of the trial. The video is proof that she was pretty happy to be playing the obedience game, and she liked visiting with all the people that were there. Most importantly, we were together. Maisy is my dog, through and through, and she wants to be where I am.

So we will try again. We will enter another trial, and I will keep a close eye on her stress levels, both during and after the trial. We will do one day only, and only one run. If she's feeling okay, we'll do another trial, and another. But if she's not? Well, I will have to think long and hard about whether or not we should keep competing.

Because here's the thing: I believe that Maisy can work through her stress because of the relationship we have. Maybe it's purely reinforcement history, or maybe it's because she trusts me. I don't know. Whatever the reason, it's clear that Maisy is willing to face her fears and keep working simply because I ask her to.

And if she's willing to do that- if she's willing to look a panic attack in the face and say, “Excuse me, but my mom wants me to heel right now,”- well, I had better live up to my end of the bargain. Hopefully I can find a way to do that while still competing with her. But if I can't? I'll give it all up in a heartbeat, because I want to be someone worthy of her trust.

CDSP Trial Results

Well, it finally came! After 16 months off from trialing, Maisy and I have returned to the world of competition! What's more, instead of doing rally, like we've done in the past, this was our very first time doing obedience. I chose CDSP for our venue because I knew it would be a small trial, relatively low-pressure, and because I could take treats in the ring in case things went horribly wrong.

They didn't.

In fact, they went very, very good. See for yourself:



The trial was a success in many way. First, as you can see above, her performance was very good. Although there were a few missteps here and there, she did well enough to score a very respectable 192 in the ring! This score, incidentally, was good enough to tie us for first place! As a result, we had to do a run-off:



Huge thanks to my friend Laura for getting video of the run-off. I did not expect to need to go in the ring a second time, so Maisy was in the car when we were called. In the midst of running to get her, I didn't even think about getting video. Laura did, though, and even uploaded it for me!

Anyway, we lost the run-off, but I can't say I'm too upset about that. I mean- look at her! She did really well for having absolutely no warm-up. I stuffed two cookies in her and went. Still- 2nd place at her very first obedience trial? NICE.

On top of that, she also ended up being the high-scoring mixed breed of the day as well as the high-scoring club member (I belong to the club that hosted the trial- the Minnesota Mixed Breed Club.)

The trial was also a success in terms of her attitude. We were connected throughout the majority of the run, and she just seemed happy to be out there with me. She was a bit stressed, too, to the point that I actually scratched her from the second run, but I did that more to prevent issues than because we were having them.

And I think the trial was successful for that reason, too. It is easy to push a dog too hard, especially on the heels of success. But when you're working with a reactive dog, it's important to avoid putting your dog in a situation she cannot handle. We were toeing that line today, and I am proud of myself for being able to recognize and act on that.

Anyway, it was an amazing day. I am so incredibly happy with how Maisy did. What an awesome little dog.

Trial Stress: Things I Can Do

In a post last week, I identified a number of stressors that are present at trials, and wondered if it was really that strange that Maisy gets upset about them. I was grateful to hear from others that their dogs find some of the same things stressful, too. Of course, what separates Maisy from other dogs is her response- barking, growling, lunging- all things that are problematic in a trial setting. Still, by identifying the stressors, I am half-way to having a training plan to address those reactions. Today, I want to work on the other half of the plan.

The first stressor I identified was a change in routine. There's a number of things that can happen here, and some I will simply avoid: we will not be driving long distances and staying in a hotel. I can pack our trial bag, crate, etc. the night before. But the early morning walk has to happen, so I will prepare for this by taking her on morning walks a few times a week so that it becomes normal. I really ought to start this now, but it's still cold and dark at 6am, so we'll work on it this summer.

Next, Maisy needs to be comfortable in her crate. I need her to be relaxed between runs, whether that's in the car or in the trial building. Not only that, but she needs to be able to do so despite the noise and chaos going on around her. We've been working on this in our reactive dog class. For the last several months, she's stayed in her crate where she can see the other dogs working for the full hour. She's doing well, although she does mouth off at least once during class. Still, she's lying down and mostly looks calm the rest of the time, which is a huge improvement. We will keep working on this.

Another cause of stress is all the noise: barking, whining, handlers talking to their dogs, applause, dogs running and jumping, equipment being moved... there are lots of sounds. I plan on desensitizing her to these noises by using audio recordings of trials... and since I'm too cheap to buy one, I made one when I stewarded yesterday! I love smart phones. I loaded it on my computer, and I've started playing it at low volume while she's eating. We will also visit run-throughs, training centers, and actual trial sites when we can.

Maisy is very sensitive to visual stimuli, especially movement, but also larger, dark-colored dogs. I will work on this through counter-conditioning. I've been taking her to pet stores lately, but I will also make an effort to go to parks, run-throughs, and trials. Yesterday, Maisy waited in the car while I stewarded, and then she came in for awhile. At first, she was worried by a rottie, and did a small lunge and soft wuff in his direction. I ignored that, but the next time the rottie came out of his crate, I stuffed her full of treats, and by the end of our visit, while she was still pretty tense, she was silent while watching him. This is a great step in the right direction.

Next, navigating the crowded spaces often present at trial sites can be stressful. If she were taller, I'd use targeting to move her through the spaces, but, well, she's not. Instead, I will slowly start exposing her to progressively more populated places, heavily reinforcing good behaviors like eye contact, and monitoring her body language for stress so that I can move her away before she has a reactive episode. Some places I will take her include pet stores, run-throughs and actual trials, and pet adoption events.

Then there are the inevitable space invaders: unwanted physical interactions with other dogs or with people. I feel like she's become more social over the last six months. I'm sure part of this is the medication, but I've also been making an effort to call her away from interactions after several seconds (and thus relieve the social pressure) and giving her a treat. She's figured this out, because sometimes she'll rush to a person when cued, and then rush right back to me and nudge my treat hand. I've also been doing this when dogs sniff her unexpectedly. I will also be assertive and stop the people I can, and will try to protect her crate space by blocking access to it. I've been thinking about either buying an ex-pen and setting that up around her crate- or using folding chairs to surround it- as well as crating in the car when the weather allows.

Finally, there's the little matter of handler stress, and for this, I see only one solution: alcohol, and lots of it. Okay, I kid. I will probably always suffer from ring nerves to some degree, but I've been working on visualization exercises that helped at our last trial. Stewarding seems to be helpful too- seeing trials from the other side makes them far less intimidating.

Anyway, those are just some of my ideas. I know you guys are super-smart, so I'm hoping you'll have some excellent thoughts. Do you think these ideas will work? Is there a way that you think I should change them? Or do you have another suggestion entirely? I'd love to hear what you think!

Is my dog the weird one?

Photo by Robin Sallie.

 

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need to do to get Maisy ready to trial again, and it doesn’t include obedience skills! Rather, I’ve been thinking about what happens outside the ring: the stuff she needs to be comfortable with before we try to compete again. For those of you who have never gone to a dog show or trial, let me set the stage. My typical experience with trials has been like this:

I get up early on a weekend, a day when I usually sleep in. I pack a training bag. I walk Maisy early (both to take off the edge and to make sure she’s empty), whereas I normally walk her in the afternoon. I load her up in the car and drive, sometimes long distances, to places she’s never been before. Sometimes we even stay in a hotel. When we arrive at the trial site, I put her in a crate, something I don’t do very often at home. Although I try to pick an out-of-the-way location, inevitably another dog will come up to her crate for a quick sniff or two. If I cover her crate, she will hear barking, shouting, and equipment banging around, but not know what’s causing all the noise. If I leave her crate uncovered, she has to watch other dogs working and playing- hard for my fun-cop dog. When I finally bring her out of the crate, she has to deal with crowded spaces and the inevitable unwanted physical or social contact (someone, canine or human, is almost guaranteed to swoop down on her). Add to that the fact that the person she’s counting on to be an island of normalcy in this sea of chaos is all stressed out with ring nerves, and good grief! How can I possibly expect her to act normal?

Clearly, we expect a lot out of a performance dog beyond the many skills we expect them to demonstrate in the ring. And while Maisy isn’t exactly normal, I have a hard time thinking she’s all that weird, either.

What the Steward Saw: Thoughts on Trial Stress

You can tell Maisy is stressed in this picture because

she's licking her lips and doing a "look-away."

Last Sunday, I got to steward for a local obedience trial, something I enjoy doing. Not only do I love watching highly-trained dogs working in harmony with their handlers, but I also appreciate the behind-the-scenes insight you can only get from working closely with judges. Unfortunately, a lot of what I saw made me sad. There were many stressed dogs with equally stressed handlers, which led to a vicious cycle of each stressing the other out even more. Worse, it seemed like many people were oblivious to their dog’s stress levels. How, I wondered, could they not notice?

I’ve been pondering this all week. Initially, I wanted to dismiss the question with a judgment about their priorities or training methods, but that seemed hypocritical (after all, Maisy and I are no strangers to trial stress). It’s also unfair, because let’s be honest, we handlers have a lot on our minds at trials, which makes it difficult to see the often subtle signs of stress in our dogs. Even so, it was hard for me to watch, and I wish I could have said something to those competitors with stressed dogs. I didn’t, mostly because I’m no expert on the matter, but being a steward offers a unique perspective. Today, I’m going to share what I saw.

First and foremost, I don’t think that any of the dogs I saw were purposely misbehaving. Yes, some of the dogs were blowing off their handlers, but I really believe that it was due to stress, not naughtiness. As a result, it seems to me that each competitor needs to learn how their particular dog acts when stressed. Each person should know if their dog tends to stress up or stress down, as well as the specific body language displayed.

I know that Maisy stresses up, and about the only good thing about it is that dogs that stress up are pretty obvious. Maisy barks and lunges, but other dogs might run around like crazy or bark excessively. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the dogs I saw this weekend were the kind that stressed down. Instead of getting excited and out of control, they responded slower, wandered away from their handlers, and just generally checked out. Their accompanying signals of yawning, panting, and lip licking were pretty subtle, which may be why their handlers didn’t notice. Other signals- like avoiding eye contact, sniffing excessively, and scratching themselves- could have been overlooked as distraction.

That’s the tricky part with stress- context matters. For example, Maisy gets the zoomies when she’s having fun, and sometimes stuff smells good, and yes, there are times when dogs just aren’t interested in working with us. However, a lot of the dogs that I saw this weekend demonstrated multiple stress signals in quick succession, which is why I believed that the issue was stress instead of misbehavior.

A dog that is too excited is clearly not going to be able to focus in the ring, but neither can a dog who’s taking a mental vacation, so once we’ve learned to identify stress signals, it becomes our job to help the dog work through them. I saw someone at the trial who did a great job of managing her dog’s arousal level. Before she went in the ring, they played a low-key tug game which really seemed to get her dog in the zone. Then, between exercises, she used simple things like encouraging her dog to jump up on her as a reward, as a method of stress relief, and as a way of connecting with her dog. Her dog looked happy the entire time, and they turned in some darn nice scores, too.

I also think that it’s important that we avoid contributing to our dog’s stress. Part of this is getting a grip on our own ring nerves- another topic in itself- and another is working hard to act the same way at trials as we do in training. Excessive cheerleading or increased focus on our dogs might seem helpful, but if this isn’t how you normally act, your dog is likely to perceive your actions as weird and worrisome. If you can’t control the way you act at trials, then my advice is make it normal by acting weird in training, too.

Similarly, we need to learn how to manage our reactions when our dogs screw up. I know that it’s frustrating when our dogs make a mistake, and especially when we can’t figure out why. We work hard to get ready and then spend a lot of money to enter a trial. I won’t lie- I’ve been deeply disappointed at trials before, and it’s hard to keep your dog from picking up on that. Unfortunately, I think that Sunday was one of those disappointing days for a lot of people; every dog entered in utility NQ’d.

But what I noticed is that each dog’s stress level- and success later in the day- was greatly affected by the way their handler reacted when things went wrong. Some people got louder, used a firm or scolding tone of voice, had angry looks on their faces, or got stiffer in their movements. I’m not sure if they were just struggling to control their emotions or if they were trying to get their dogs to shape up and act right. Either way, usually the dog just got worse.

Others spoke encouragingly to their dogs, kept an upbeat attitude, or even smiled and laughed at their dog’s error! Is it possible that by doing so, they reinforced their dog’s mistake? Sure, but those dogs also learned that being in the ring is fun, happy, safe place, and this enabled them to return for a later class and ace it. To be honest, I’m not sure why some people reacted differently than others, but I suspect that this, too, is something we need to practice.

And finally, I think we all need to remember that this is just another game we play with our dogs. Every team has a bad day, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from stewarding, it’s that the judges know this. They can see past the mistakes and appreciate the beautiful moments, and they don’t like to give out NQ’s or bad scores any more than we like to get them. So relax. Take a deep breath. Have fun and enjoy the moment with your dog.

Anyway, that’s just how I saw things, sitting ringside as a steward. I know that stress at trials is a big issue, and there's no way I can cover everything in one post. I’d love to hear what other people have learned, especially the seasoned competitors.

CU Seminar: Developing Better Communication

With my attention elsewhere, the probability that Maisy will have a reactive outburst increases substantially... but why?
(Photo by Robin Sallie.)

I love going to trials, but I find them exhausting. Maisy needs constant management in order to stay calm. If I keep my full attention on her, I can see and respond to her stress points so that she does not lunge, growl, bark, or otherwise act poorly. However, if I shift my attention elsewhere for even a moment- to check the rule book, for example- she tends to lose it.

After our last two trials, I realized something needed to change. Not only was I finding the experience to be more frustrating than fun, but I also felt like a hypocrite. After all, I had been writing about whether or not reactive dogs should be allowed to trial, and if so, what skills they need or behaviors they ought to exhibit, and here I was with a dog who lost her mind both in and out of the ring.

But I love going to trials, and Maisy appears happy in the videos. Stressed or not, I don’t think she needs to stop going. She may not care about going one way or the other- I fully recognize she’d be just as happy going hiking at the state park- but at this point, I don’t think that it’s wrong to take her to trials. Even so, I knew that we needed to get some of this reactive behavior under control so that we can both enjoy trialing more. The problem was, I had no idea how to do that.

Fast-forward to the seminar this weekend. I went with my friend/trainer, Robin, which was awesome. Not only was she excellent road-trip company (thanks again for driving!), but she also sat next to Maisy and I at the seminar. We had the same issue that we have at trials: Maisy’s fine as long as I’m paying attention to her, but when I look away, she behaves reactively. The interesting thing was what Robin saw…

As way of explanation, you should know that Maisy has been trained to play the Look at That game. The way we use it is that when she sees something that stresses her out, she looks at it and then whips back to look at me for her treat. I notice this, reassure her that the scary thing isn’t a big deal, and then Maisy’s fine. But if I miss her cue, she growls (or lunges or barks).

When Maisy did just that this weekend, Robin said that she growled while still staring at me, not at the trigger. Which means that the problem wasn’t that she was being reactive, but instead, that she doesn’t know how to communicate with me when she can’t make eye contact! In fact, she was doing exactly what I’ve taught her to do- look at the trigger and look back. When that failed to get her the reassurance she needs, Maisy, being a smart dog, found another way to get my attention.

Suddenly, all the pieces began to fall into place. Although I already knew that Maisy’s reactive behavior was fake- that is, that she was only acting reactive, not feeling reactive- I had misunderstood the motive. I thought that I’d created this mutant behavior chain of pretend to react/receive treat, so I’d been ignoring the behavior I didn’t like.

Truth be told, while this probably was part of the problem, it wasn’t the complete picture. Yes, the reactivity was fake, and yes, she probably did figure out she’d get a treat. But she also figured something else out: she could get my attention by doing this. So, while I had had mild success with the “ignore the behavior you don’t want” approach, it still left a huge void. In the absence of clear instructions on what to do, Maisy kept falling back on the only behavior she knew.

So, what’s the solution? Well, I do think I was on the right track. Ignoring the behavior does send her the message that it doesn’t work. However, I also need to teach her an alternate way to get my attention… something that is quiet and polite, but also quite obvious. Something that doesn’t require me to be looking at her. Something easy…

Something like targeting. I’ll talk about this in more detail soon, but a lot of the Control Unleashed exercises involve targeting, a point which Alexa made several times throughout the seminar. Going to place is a targeting exercise. Reorienting to the handler is a targeting exercise. Even Look at That is a (visual) targeting exercise.

Interestingly, Maisy has recently begun to do some of this herself. There have been a few instances where I’ve set Maisy up in heel position, and then turned to talk to someone. If I didn’t return to the exercise quickly enough for her tastes, Maisy took it upon herself to poke my leg with her nose, a gesture I interpreted as, “Hey, we’ve got work to do here!” What I need to do now is to capture this offered behavior, and teach her that it's a better way to get my attention than to growl or lunge.

So, here’s my plan: I’m going to start by doing some simple targeting exercises. She already knows how to touch my palm with her nose on cue, but I’ll transfer this behavior to touching my leg. Once that’s solid, I’ll begin giving her the leg-touch cue after her fake-reactive-outbursts.

Do I run the risk of creating an even more annoying behavior chain? Yes, I suppose I do, which is why I’m planning on ignoring the outburst, waiting five seconds or so, and then cuing the leg-touch (and then jackpotting the heck out of that leg-touch). By doing this, I’m hoping to minimize the attention she gets for the reactive behavior, and maximizing the attention she gets for an alternate behavior. If I’m lucky, she’ll just decide that it’s easier to just cut to the chase and offer the leg-touch instead of the growling or lunging.

Incidentally, I thought about adding the leg-touch as another step to her Look at That behavior, but ultimately chose not to because it would muddy up the criteria for her “look” behavior. I really like the way LAT works for us right now, and I don’t want to change that. Also, it would probably be annoying for her to leg-touch me that much.

Will this work? I have no idea, but I’m cautiously optimistic. Even if it doesn’t, I’ve still gained new insight into why my dog acts the way she does. At any rate, you all will be among the first to know how it works out for us.

Getting Unstuck

At the Control Unleashed Seminar. Photo by Robin Sallie.

I’ve been feeling kind of dejected lately. I know that’s silly- Maisy has made a ton of progress over the last year, and I am very proud of her. Still, behavior modification is slow work, and sometimes it’s a bit disheartening to realize you’ve been working on your dog’s issues for over a year and still aren’t where you want to be.

This is nothing new, of course. In the time since I’ve started this blog, I’ve gone through similar funks twice, once back in December, and once in February, when I actually contemplated retiring Maisy from dog sports. I chose not to at the time, but after our last trial, I began to think about retirement again.

These thoughts were fueled by a conversation I had with someone who, upon hearing how hard I have to work at managing Maisy at trials, wondered why I bothered at all. The truth is, I really enjoy trials, enough that I’m willing to put in the hard work of behavior modification. And while Maisy doesn’t care about the ribbons or the social aspects of trials, she does enjoy being with me- enough, I think, that she, too, is willing to participate in the hard work.

Despite our mutual willingness to work on our issues, I’ve continued to question whether or not it’s fair to subject her to the stress of both the training and the trials. She’s come far enough in training that’s she’s a perfectly pleasant pet, able to enjoy walks and family outings, and shouldn't that be enough?

So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been pondering the ethical implications of trialing with a reactive dog. I had been leaning towards taking a temporary break from competition while we continue to work on our issues, but I felt stuck. I had no idea what needed to happen before we could go back to trials, and I knew that unless I could figure that out, our temporary break would turn into a permanent one… something I didn’t want.

At about the same time that I was wrestling with all this, I learned about a Control Unleashed seminar that was happening in Omaha, Nebraska. While that’s a bit of a drive, these seminars are pretty rare, so I jumped on the opportunity. What’s more, there was a working spot available, so this past weekend, I took Maisy to the seminar, which was taught by Leslie’s friend and one of the authorized seminar presenters, Alexa Karaoulis.

There was a lot of review- remember, Maisy and I have been attending CU-style classes for over a year now- but it really reminded me how important a good foundation is, and there are definitely a few areas where I can shore things up for Maisy. I also saw different ways to teach familiar things (Alexa teaches Look at That differently than I taught it to Maisy), and I grew a deeper appreciation for positive training in general.

More importantly, though, I learned more about my dog and about her reactivity. My feelings of dejection are gone now, replaced by hope and enthusiasm. I still don't have all the answers, but I have a better understanding of what Maisy needs from me in order to succeed. I have some ideas on how to move forward, and I have complete faith that in the long run, this will only deepen our relationship further. And when it comes down to it, that's all that really matters anyway.

I can't wait to get started. And I can't wait to share it with you all.

Skills Reactive Dogs Need for Trials

Maisy reluctantly shows off her impulse control skills.

We all know that success in dog sports requires a lot of work. Your dog needs to learn a lot of skills- and learn them well- in order to break into the ribbons. But for reactive dogs, learning the exercises is the easy part. Of all the time I spend training each week, 25% of it- at most (and probably less)- is spent on performance exercises. The rest is devoted to teaching my dog the skills she will need to cope with the stress and chaos that you find at trials. What are those skills? Well, I’ve come up with four things that I think every reactive performance dog needs to learn.

Impulse Control
It’s been my personal theory that reactive dogs tend to have impulse control issues. Am I right? I have no idea! But it makes sense to me; if a dog gets stressed and overwhelmed, there are basically two choices: to shut down, or to over-react. It seems logical that the dog who has impulse control issues would be the reactive one. Of course, it’s more complicated than that, but a dog who can learn to control his impulses with low-stress things is going to be better prepared to deal with high-stress things than the dog who has no impulse control at all.

My favorite way to teach impulse control is by teaching “wait.” This is not a formal stay- it’s a temporary ceasing of activity- and there are about a million ways you can practice during the day. Wait for your food bowl. Wait to go out the door. Wait while I open the crate or car door. Wait at a street corner. Wait while I throw the ball. Lately I’ve even been able to stop Maisy’s forward motion simply by saying, “Wait!”

There are other great ways to teach impulse control, too. “Leave it” is great for this, and so is “doggie zen”- where the dog has to not only leave an item, but make eye contact with you instead. I tend to take doggie zen to extremes- hold treats in both hands and wind-milling them around crazily, which encourages my dog to ignore both the treats and movement.

Relaxation
There is a ton of down-time at trials, so being able to relax while there is crucial. Maisy and I have done a ton of mat work in class, and I take it with almost everywhere we go. A natural extension of mat work is the Relaxation Protocol by Dr. Karen Overall, which encourages the dog to relax on its mat even while you’re doing crazy things.

There are a number of other options to help a dog relax, too. Maisy gets regular massages. T-Touch is also popular, and the Anxiety Wrap is often used along with T-Touch (although it didn’t help Maisy). I’m a big fan of the Through a Dog’s Ear CDs, and of course, you guys know that I am interested in and use supplements, too.

The Ability to Navigate a Busy Environment
This is a more practical skill, but anyone who has been to a trial will recognize the need for any dog- not only reactive ones- to be able to walk through a crowd. There will inevitably be people and dogs milling about, sometimes right near the ring entrance, and your dog simply has to be able to do this. In fact, while you could get away with managing the relaxation piece (by keeping your dog in the car, for example), unless you have a very small dog that you can carry, your dog simply must learn this skill.

Teaching a competition heel is helpful, of course, but for really tight spaces, I like to use targeting. For taller dogs, I suppose a nose bridge or “sticky target” would be especially useful- where the dog maintains physical contact with you- but I simply point a finger for Maisy to watch. It’s been surprisingly effective and easy, and gives her something else to focus on, which allows us to easily move from place to place while at trials.

A Rock-Solid Interrupt Cue
Part of the trouble with reactive behavior is that when a dog begins to approach (or worse, go over) their stress threshold, their brains begin moving to that “fight or flight” state, and quit processing your verbal cues as well as it should. This means you have to work very hard to create a rock-solid cue that you can use to interrupt your dog’s behavior. (You also have to have the presence of mind to use it, which is another story entirely.)

You can use any cue you want- come, leave it, watch me, whatever- but the cue should be useful in any situation. I think my favorite one is to create a “whiplash turn” to the dog’s name. No matter what you choose, you’re going to classically condition your dog just like Pavlov’s dogs so that they don’t even think about what you’ve asked, they just automatically do it in response to the stimulus.


So, what do you think? Do you agree with this list? If so, tell me how you teach these skills. Would you add anything to this list? Remove something? Tell me about that, too! If you trial with a reactive dog, how much time do you spend on general coping skills vs. actual performance? I’d love to hear about your experiences!

Trial Report: APDT Rally hosted by the Minnesota Mixed Breed Club

Maisy and I attended an APDT rally trial today, hosted by the Minnesota Mixed Breed Club. We entered in two level 2B runs.

I was really proud of Maisy today. She was initially quite stressed when we entered the building, and did some minor growling (but no lunging, so yay!). She quickly settled in, though, and it seemed like the longer we were there, the calmer she got. By the end of the day- about three hours- she was flopped on her side and quite relaxed.

The other cool thing came from Jeff, who is a provisional judge, and who we met last summer. Because he's a rational human being, he remembers and is smitten with Maisy. (Or at least, he seemed to like her an awful lot.) Anyway, he commented about how much more outgoing she was today than she was last year. He said last year, he couldn't get close enough to touch her, and this year, she was really into him.

After he said that, I realized that she was really interested in seeing the other dogs, too. She's never been one to initiate greetings with other dogs, and today I had to keep calling her off the other dogs, lest I run the risk of being the "rude" dog that has to say hi to everyone. What a change!

We did have a bad moment, though, and it was in the ring during our second run. Even though it's kind of embarrassing, I decided to upload the video for you guys to see:



I chose to upload this video for two reasons. First, because this is a blog about reactivity, I wanted you to see what her reactivity looks like. It used to be worse, but this is pretty typical for her these days. I'm actually pretty proud of the reduction in intensity.

Second, because I am so stinking proud of her. Okay, I know that's a weird thing to say, given that she was reactive in the ring, but look at her ability to bounce back from stress! What you can't see in the video is that she was startled by a dog who suddenly came through a doorway near that corner... a large black dog who is paralyzed, has no use of his back end, and who was in a sling and being carried/pulled by his owner. So, there's a sudden environment change, which is an iffy proposition for her anyway, and it's a dog who looks like a dog, and yet doesn't move correctly and is wearing weird stuff, and... that can't really be a dog, can it? But then what is it? OMG I MUST FREAK OUT!!!

Right, so, I thought the reactivity was understandable (if a bit embarrassing). I chose to put her on leash for safety measures (she's never gotten into anything with another dog, and we certainly don't need to start), and then finished the course. I wanted her to end on a good note, for both our sakes. And she bounced back really well. If you look carefully, you can see that there are a few instances where she looks back at that corner, although they seemed more obvious at the time than they do on the video. I used extra treats to reinforce attention, mostly because I could, what with the fact that we'd already NQ'd and all. But overall? She was very focused on me and generally relaxed, which is evident both in her body language, and by the fact that her mouth was very soft as we moved through the remainder of the course (she gets "sharky" when stressed).

So, even though we NQ'd, even though it was a bit embarrassing, I was still so incredibly pleased with her performance. I mean, barring that bit in the middle, it was a beautiful run! And then, afterwards, we hung around the trial site for another hour and a half. I expected her to be edgier as a result of the cortisol that was surely flowing through her blood because of that outburst, but instead she was on her side and quite relaxed. How cool is that?

Oh, and our first run? She scored a 205 and 4th place! We lost three points because of a handler error (well, tactical decision- I chose to move inside the six foot line for the send over jump exercise since I've never really properly trained jumping), so really, that's like a 208!

I was also really happy with me- my ring nerves were the lowest they've ever been. I was just a teensy bit nervous prior to going in the first time, but since I wasn't working on a title or QQs or anything, there was nothing to lose, and everything to gain. And we did gain it. We worked together like a team. Despite stress, despite reactivity, we were both able to bounce back and act like the champions we want to be someday.

What's in a Word?

Is this dog reactive?

Thanks to everyone who commented on my post about whether or not reactive dogs should be allowed at trials. I said this in the comments, but just to clarify: no one is seriously suggesting that reactive dogs will be banned from trials. The Rally Advisory Committee did not suggest this, nor did the AKC. It was the personal opinion of a few list members. Most of those people were pretty clear that their objection was not to how a dog is described, but rather to what a dog does. I reiterated that idea, as did all of you, in the comments.

But I wrote the post as a personal reaction to one poster, who criticized a handler they saw at a trial. That handler had described their dog as reactive, and kept the dog in the car until its turn to show, because the trial site was too busy/stressful for the dog otherwise. Even though the dog worked beautifully, and interrupted no one’s performance, the poster thought it was inappropriate for the dog to be there.

Now, maybe this poster is just a jerk. It’s easy to dismiss a differing opinion that way, after all. But I think there’s more to it than that, and I don’t think it’s fair to dismiss that person’s concerns with an insult. Really, I think it comes down to semantics. Specifically, what does it mean when we describe a dog as reactive?

I’ve tried to explain it before, but each attempt seems to have fallen short of the mark. I’ve captured parts of what it means, but “reactivity” is such a nebulous concept that I don’t know that we’ve really agreed on what it all means. Oh, sure, it is pretty universally accepted that a dog who barks, lunges and growls at something is “reactive.” However, there are three areas that I think are still kind of cloudy.

The first area was touched upon in comments: how do you know when a dog is reactive vs. green and inexperienced vs. excitable and over-the-top? Those are three different concepts, but they can look similar. I suspect that each of us might assign the same dog to different categories. I also wonder if the categories don’t overlap. Maisy is, in general, pretty excitable, and I think that fuels her reactivity at times. But where is the line between excitable and reactive? What’s the difference? Is there an underlying personality trait that makes one excitable dog reactive, while another excitable dog is not?

Which brings me to my second question: is reactivity a personality trait, or is it a specific behavior? If someone describes a dog as reactive, do they mean that the dog as a whole is prone to snarky outbursts? Are they describing a personality type? Or are they referring to the behavior in front of them at that moment, the one that looks like barking and lunging? If so, does that means a dog might be reactive at times, but not at others?

When I describe Maisy as reactive, I mean it as a description of what she’s capable of. In a bad week, one full of stressful things like trials and big scary dogs and bicycles, she has, at most, 60 minutes of reactive behavior- barking, lunging or growling. Sixty minutes out of 10,080 minutes in a week. That’s one-half of one percent of the time.

But I still call her reactive, not because it’s an accurate descriptor of what she’s like most of the time, but because it reminds me that there is the possibility that she’ll go over-threshold. Because I call her reactive, because I have that reminder, I do things differently with her than I would otherwise. I leave her at home instead of taking her to the big family barbecue where there are half a dozen kids running around. I enter her in one day of trials, not two. Calling her reactive reminds me that I need to honor her needs, and that I must protect her from excessive stress.

She’s improved greatly over the last two years, and that number has dropped dramatically. Which brings me to the last thing that I think is confusing: can a dog be cured of reactivity? Is there ever a point where a reactive dog will abandon the bark-growl-lunge behavior? And if it does, is that the result of good training, good management, or both? Assuming that a reactive dog can be trained to the point that it no longer displays reactive behavior, how long does that need to go on before we quit calling the dog reactive? Do we need to worry about the possibility of regression? And, if the dog ends up in a new home, will the reactivity re-emerge or go away entirely?

I ask this last question because I think that if I treated Maisy like the typical American dog- one that hangs out at home instead of going to classes and trials- she would probably have so few episodes of reactive behavior that I would have never realized she has this tendency! But, I like to do performance stuff with her, and I daresay she enjoys it, too, so the reactive behavior is present in our lives. But if it wasn’t, if I had chosen to just hang out with her at home, she would still have the same personality. How would I have described her then? As nervous or fearful or mildly anxious? Because all of that is true, too.

Going back to where we began, do you see now why I wondered how the commenter in question might define reactivity differently than I do? Did he, perhaps, believe that when a dog is called reactive it refers to behavior, not personality? Or did the handler with the reactive dog in that story call her dog reactive as a reminder to honor her dog’s needs, and not as an assessment of how the dog behaves the vast majority of the time?

I know I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what we mean by words, perhaps more time than is really necessary, but I’ve always believed that there is power in words. More importantly, we can prevent misunderstandings and the hurt feelings that result if we are clear in what we mean. I would love to see the terminology around reactive dogs cleared up so that we all know exactly what it means when we give a dog that label.

Now it’s your turn: what does the word mean to you? How would you answer any of the many questions I've asked? Do you think it matters how we define the word, or am I over-thinking things? I'd love to hear your opinions!

Should reactive dogs be allowed at trials?

The AKC recently released its Rally Advisory Committee Recommendations on proposed changes to the rules and exercises of the sport. Now, I don’t currently do AKC rally, but I do belong to a general rally obedience email list, and these changes have been one of the prominent topics of discussion lately.

I’ve been skimming most of these posts- they don’t really apply to me, after all- but one thread did catch my eye. It started out discussing the committee’s recommendation for a new class (Rally Master) in which there are group stays, but ended up being about reactive dogs. Some people were worried that rally has become the sport for “unsocialized, reactive, or aggressive dogs,” and strongly felt that such dogs shouldn’t be allowed at trials.

While I agree with the people criticizing the presence of dogs who are acting poorly at a trial, I disagree with those who completely dismiss all reactive dogs, simply because they are reactive. Don’t get me wrong- bad behavior has no place at a trial. It is not fair to anyone involved. It is not fair to the other dogs and owners who are on the receiving end of snarky behavior. It is not fair to the dog itself, who is clearly over-stressed. And it’s not fair to the handler, who will be embarrassed, ostracized or just won’t have fun.

But some people were upset with those who simply describe their dogs as reactive, or with people who leave their dogs in the car between runs because the dog has difficulty with prolonged exposure to a trial environment. I really think such criticism is unfair, because if you’re trialing a reactive dog, you need to protect your dog. Beyond that, though, just because a dog is reactive does not automatically mean it is going to behave badly. In fact, I have taken Maisy to trials where people looked at me with disbelief when I said she was reactive- that’s how relaxed and happy she was.

I’ve said before that our current terminology just isn’t very good, and in this case, I suspect that those critics- the ones who say no reactive dogs should be allowed at trials- understand reactivity differently than I do. Where others seem to see reactivity as a problem that is fixed in stone for life, I see it as something changeable. After all, when it comes down to it, reactive behavior is just that- behavior. And behavior can be modified.

Surely part of the problem is that the label of “reactive” really doesn’t get at the root cause of the behavior. Is it due to genetics? Is it due to poor socialization as a puppy? Is it due to a bad experience? It might be just one of these, it might be a combination, or it might be something else entirely. But I think it makes a difference when it comes to predicting future outcomes.

Many reactive dogs can recover to a normal (or at least near-normal) state. A dog who learned reactive behavior as a response to a traumatic incident can overcome its anxiety through careful counter-conditioning. A dog who missed out on critical socialization as a puppy can make up for it as an adult (although it is slow-going, and will never be as good as it could have been).

Even dogs who have a questionable genetic background- dogs like my Maisy, for example- can make huge strides in improving their reactive behavior. They may not recover fully, but they can learn to keep it together well enough that they can successfully attend a trial. They may need modifications to the usual routine- they may need shorter days or to rest in the car- but they can do it.

Even so, I don’t think this is the case for all reactive dogs. For some, the damage is just too deep, the behavior is too ingrained. Some will always be right on the edge, always in danger of falling off the wagon, so to speak. Some of these dogs will never be able to manage a trial environment, and for those dogs, I believe it is inappropriate to enter them in trials, no matter how talented they are.

So, those of us with reactive dogs need take a critical look at our dogs. We need to be honest with ourselves about where our dog is at, both in general, and on any given day. We may need to forfeit entry fees on days where our dogs just can’t pull themselves together. We may even need to retire them entirely.

After all, when it comes to working with reactive dogs (and maybe the normal ones, too), the process is more important the result. I am certainly aware of the fact that, despite my dreams of championship titles, we may never attain them. Regardless of how far we go, whether Maisy retires tomorrow or whether she gets an OTCH, in the end, I will know that we have done our best together.

Trial Report

Maisy and I went to an APDT rally trial at Proper Paws University in Racine, Wisconsin on Sunday. (Which was an absolutely lovely trial site, with wonderful workers, and friendly competitors. I would absolutely go back in the future, even though the drive was a bit long.) We were entered in two Level 1B runs, and two Level 2B runs.

I had two main goals for the weekend. First, I hoped to have one really nice run, which I defined as Maisy being relaxed and focused in the ring. At our last few trials, Maisy has been stressy in the ring, which manifests itself as being distracted, sniffy and scratching herself a lot. Even when she’s had technically good runs- by which I mean, she had high scores- I didn’t feel connected to her. And I wanted that connection. So, how did she do? Well, judge for yourself:



That run was a 209 and 4th place! We lost our only point on that tight leash in the first 5 seconds, and I can hardly be upset by it, because she was just so excited to go! The run felt really good. She stayed with me, checked in with me frequently, and was clearly having fun. Afterwards, another handler told me she loved the way Maisy and I work together.

Our second level 1 run was nice, as well, although she did get momentarily distracted by something on the floor, causing us to lose one point. Overall score was, again, 209, but no placement. (There were SIX 210s. We were seventh.) It, too, was a solid run, lots of attention, and no stress behaviors.

She did really well managing the environment, too. While we were hanging out after our run, Maisy was all butt wiggly and schmoozing the trial secretary and the other judge! She had full-on helicopter tail, and was totally unphased by the woman who came up to her and loved on her, and didn’t even mind the HUGE white dog that “just loves little dogs.” (Although I did quickly remove her from that situation. Please, no matter how much your dog loves other dogs- please ask first. Mine isn’t always so happy to say hi.)

Our second goal for the weekend was for me: if, at any point, I felt that Maisy was stressing in the ring, I would immediately tell the judge I’d like to NQ in order to do a cookie run. Well, we met this goal, too.

While Maisy did a really good job managing the trial environment, it appears that her limit is about three hours, because that’s when her brain started to seep out of her head. During our first level 2 run, we were first in the ring (drat those short little legs!). This is always hard for us because there isn’t much time to warm up and get connected before we go in the ring, and because there’s a lot more chaos ringside right before we enter.

Just before we entered the ring, Maisy was very distracted by a German Shepherd, and although I thought I’d gotten her attention, I clearly hadn’t. When I took the first step of heeling, she ran off toward the corner where the dog was. She came back immediately when I called, and quite honestly, I could have salvaged the run if I’d wanted to.

Instead, though, I looked at the judge, and told her that I was going to NQ ourselves so that we could do a cookie run. I treated her liberally throughout the course. She did a lovely job, and just absolutely nailed her halt-side step right-halt and the moving down. They were just gorgeous. Her heeling was really nice, too. Now, granted, I got great performance in part because the rate of reinforcement was so high, but I do think we could still have scored in the high 190s or low 200s. It was worth taking the NQ so that I could reinforce working with me so well after bouncing back from a stressful event. Afterwards, the judge commented that I had probably made the right decisions since Maisy settled in so nicely.

I probably should have left after that, but we were in the middle of the running order for the second level 2 trial, and so I was hopeful that she could pull it together. (I admit, I was still sort of hoping for a QQ towards her ARCH, too.) We played look at that with the German Shepherd (whose handler was very gracious and helped us with that. I didn’t get a chance to thank her, so on the off chance she’s reading- thanks!).

As we headed up for our turn, I could tell that Maisy wasn’t focused at all. I told the judge that Maisy wasn’t going to be able to do it, and that I’d like to go in and do one really sign really well. She said that was fine with her, so I did the first sign, and I swear to you, she was so focused and did such a nice job that it was very tempting to complete the course. But I followed through on what I said I was going to do, and ended the trial on what I felt was a very high note.

I could not be more proud of my dog. Not only is she more focused at trials, but she’s more relaxed, too. She actually took a nap, you guys! She’s never done that before. She also bounced back from her reactive moments really quickly, and was willing and eager to work. I am very pleased that we’ve built up the level of working relationship that we have, and I’m grateful to see so much improvement.

...and maybe I spoke too soon.

Maisy may have been amazing on Monday night, but on Tuesday night, she was... not. Truthfully, I knew that I will always need to be cautious with her. In times of stress, she will probably always fall back on her old, reactive coping skills.

And she did last night.

We went to our regular reactive dog class, and she did okay for the most part. She started with a play lunge towards another dog, and slowly deteriorated from there. She had a number of loud, obnoxious lunges, some with barks, some just rushes, none of it awful, though still mildly disappointing, especially after the awesome night just 24 hours prior.

I can't say that I was surprised, though. I mean, Monday night was off-the-charts stressful, and Maisy held herself together amazingly. Still, it had to have elevated her adrenaline and cortisol levels. Although I have yet to find anything definitive, most sources suggest that it can take 72 hours (or more) for cortisol to dissipate from the body after a stressful event.

This website does a nice job of discussing the differences between adrenaline and cortisol, and this one does such a nice job of explaining how those elevated stress hormones affects reactivity that I have to quote a brief portion:

High levels of adrenaline are associated with heightened vigilance, anxiety, lowered thresholds of sensory perception; these make the dog more reactive to stimulation, rather than thinking. Higher levels of glucocorticoids cause an overactive stress response and depression. After a stress response it can take days for the glucocorticoids to go back down to baseline levels. If the dog has another stressful situation before this happens the entire cascade of the stress response starts all over.

As an interesting side note, today, while I was trying to figure out how long those hormones remain in the dog's body, I read that you can help reduce the cortisol levels through exercise immediately following the stressful event, massage, and, interestingly, some dietary things, such as magnesium, omega 3s or vitamin C. I'll have to try both the exercise and the massage, and do more reading on the dietary factors.

Anyway, all of that is simply to say that Maisy's reactivity last night wasn't really a set-back. In fact, it was actually an expected result. That not only helps me feel better about it, it also confirms the decision I made a few months ago to scratch her from a second day of trialling. At the time, I just didn't think she could do the second day, but didn't understand why. My trainer had agreed, saying that she thought Maisy was probably a one-day dog. Now I'm quite sure of that. That's really a valuable thing to know about my dog, and so I'm grateful to have had the experience last night.

Suzanne Clothier Seminar: The Trial Environment and Reactivity

In my last entry, I discussed how reactivity is often compounded by the personality of the typical performance dog. I also mentioned that we as handlers often fail to give our dogs the information they need in order to be successful in our environments, especially the trial environment. During the weekend, I picked up two main ideas from Suzanne relating to dogs who are reactive in trial environments, and both are absolutely true for Maisy and I.

First, Suzanne said that a huge mistake handlers make is in using management far too often. Although management is often useful and necessary, excessive reliance on it can create problems. For one thing, it’s often exhausting for the handler to micromanage the dog’s every action. I know that I find trials tiring for that exact reason: I spend so much time taking care of Maisy, there’s no time to take care of me. Beyond that, management will always fail at some point. It’s impossible to control everything all the time. Somewhere along the line, we will fail.

At this point, an audience member asked what she should do with her dog. If she doesn’t manage him closely, he’s snarky with the other dogs there, which is clearly not acceptable at a trial. Suzanne’s response really struck me: “Have you taught him how to deal with crowds? He might be missing a skill he needs.”

Maisy certainly has impulse control issues. She finds it hard not to try to go visit other dogs. The problem with a trial is that there are so many other dogs, it seems like she gets over-stimulated, tired, and then reactive. Perhaps gradually exposing her to longer and longer periods of time in chaotic environments would help her learn how to deal with the stress of a trial site. Beyond that? I’m not sure what other skills to teach her. How to walk by (and ignore) other dogs, I suppose, and maybe a relax or settle cue. I’ll need to think more about this (suggestions welcome).

The other big idea I picked up about reactivity in trials had to do with handler nerves. Performance dogs are often very sensitive to their handlers- it’s part of what makes them so good in the ring. The problem with that is that when we get stressed out because we’re nervous about being judged, the dog can’t understand that. We may know that it’s all in fun, and that the outcome ultimately doesn’t matter, but our dogs have no way of understanding that. We must, Suzanne stressed, learn to deal with our issues away from our dogs. After all, if you are at the center of your dog’s world and you fall apart, the dog has nothing to lean on.

This, too, really struck me. When Maisy and I went to our first trial just over a year ago, I had no idea what to expect. I certainly didn’t know enough to be nervous! I thought we’d go for the experience, and hoped that by the end of the year, we’d have just one qualifying run. Instead, we titled that weekend. Maisy did great. The next week, when we started our first reactive dog class, the instructor told me she’d seen us at the trial, and couldn’t understand what a happy dog like Maisy was doing in that class.

We went to a total of five trials last year, and at each one, Maisy became progressively more reactive. At the same time, I became progressively more nervous during each trial. I am quite sure that we were both feeding off the other’s negative emotions, and I'm worried that we’re at the point where I’ve conditioned negative feelings about the environment in general, even if I weren’t nervous. Of course, I am nervous, and not entirely sure how to conquer my ring nerves. Again… suggestions welcome!

A few weeks ago, my trainer asked me if I thought I was going to enter Maisy in the next rally trial. I answered that it depended on whether or not Maisy was ready. Then I stopped, and amended my statement: “It depends on whether I’m ready.”

Although I believe Maisy has some limitations due to her reactivity, I do have to wonder how much I’ve contributed to it. She is an incredibly sensitive dog, and while I’m often glad she trusts me as much as she does, I feel awful that I can’t be a better partner for her… which is probably why Suzanne’s words hit me as hard as they do. I don’t think there is any point in regretting the past- you can’t change it, after all- but it does challenge me to think of ways to improve in the future. And knowing is half the battle.