In the world of crazy Border Collie owners all toys have names. There’s the usual “Ball” for anything round, “Bone” for Nylabones or regular bones, “Stick” for anything that is long and round or “Wooby” for the favorite training toy. Then there is the special indoor, guaranteed not to break lights or damage ceilings, cloth Frisbee, hereby named by me “The Flippy Floppy”. If I say, “Where’s the Flippy Floppy?” to my young Border Collie, Levi, he runs around the house trying to remember, “Where did I put it? Where’d I last see it?” This 7” diameter, round cloth toy allows me to play “Bouncy, Bouncy” ala Sylvia Bishop or simply fling the toy around the living room over and over and over for the entertainment and exercise of the Border Collies. Hope springs eternal that this game will wear them out. (I know. I’m one turd short of a full kitty litter box.)
So it was that recently the Flippy Floppy disappeared. Gone, no amount of looking under sofa, chairs, beds or out in the kennel made it magically appear.
There was only one place I never, ever in my wildest imagination would have looked. The toilet!! I’m beginning to think I live with a couple of Einstein’s. Who lifted the seat, which is always down and dunked this toy in the water? When I lifted the seat to, ah, ya know, I saw something dark in the hole. Did I mention the light was off in the bathroom at the time? Did I mention I live alone and don’t need lights and closed doors? I groaned. Ick. I had a plugged toilet. This wasn’t in my job description and was something I would usually whine for a man to fix. Since the only males in my house are canine I knew I had to turn on the light, grab a plunger and push, pull, push, pull until the nasty deed was done.
Imagine my surprise when I turned on the light and there was the Flippy Floppy. This is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. How the heck did that get there? Levi? River? They’re not talking.
How many Border Collies does it take to drive a human insane? The answer is apparently two.
Its just one of those things I’ll never know but next time I’m missing a toy…
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Retrieving Taught the Lazy Way-Step One
This isn’t an old concept although the person writing this is. Old, that is. Finally I can say I have a bag of tricks to pull from when I have a dog-training problem. I’m finding a lot of the old training methods are still valuable. One that I remember is to mix Bill Koehler’s schedule of teaching the dog to retrieve with watching television. No, you don’t need to buy a fancy DVD player, a simple 60-minute sitcom will do. You don’t even need to watch the program, just be aware of when the commercials start.
You’ll need a dog, a dumbbell and treats. This method assumes you have taught your puppy retrieve games so he knows the words, “Take it or Fetch”, “Out” and “Hold”. Before you groan and sit back in the chair and release the dog, don’t despair. This method will still get you started. The key word here is REPETITION. If you do something 3 times per day, with 6 repetitions each time, that is 18 times per day. Multiply that by 7 days and you have a dog that has a grasp of the early concept of retrieving.
Now, put a buckle collar on your dog. Sorry, no prong collars or choke chains will do as this is supposed to encourage the dog to view the retrieving basics as fun. Get on the floor with the dog. Get the dog off your lap. Stop him from licking your face and trying to steal the treat from your hand. See, isn’t this fun?
Have the dog sit in front of you. Put the index finger of your left hand under the dog’s collar with the palm of your hand facing you. With your left thumb slide it in the dog’s mouth and find the spot in the back of the dog’s mouth behind the molars. If this were a horse this would be where the “bit” goes. Do this; a couple of times so you can quickly find the spot without the dog struggling. Immediately when the dog opens his mouth say, “Take it” (or “Fetch” or whatever word you want to use) and pop in a treat. Now, watch the sitcom until the next commercial. Repeat step one during the commercial. It is important that you hug and laugh with the dog in between repetitions during this process. There should be no pressure on the dog.
Here comes the second commercial. Now instead of putting a treat in the dog’s mouth you are going to slide the dumbbell in.
To repeat: you have the dog sit closely in front of you on the floor. Put the index finger of your left hand under the dog’s flat collar with your palm facing you. Slide your left thumb into the “bit” space and when the dog’s mouth opens gently slide the dumbbell into his mouth with your right hand. Most dogs will go nuts or try to spit out the dumbbell the first time you do this. What I like about this method is that you are close to the dog and have a hold on the collar. With your left hand cup thumb and other three fingers under the dog’s chin. Gently. Stroke the dog’s head and left shoulder telling him “Good hold”. The dumbbell should not have an opportunity to rock as you control the dog’s chin with your left hand. Do not pinch the dog’s mouth over the dumbbell at any time. Remember, gentle hands.
To remove the dumbbell, in the early stages, put your left thumb back into the mouth and say “Out” and gently TAKE the dumbbell out of his mouth. It is important that you NOT rip it from him. Immediately give him a treat and tell him what a good dog he is. Now repeat this exercise for the rest of the week, 3x’s per day, 6 repetitions each time for a total of 18 times per day and 126 times per week. If you are gentle with the dog he won’t be afraid and won’t struggle.
The hold part of the retrieving exercise, in my opinion, is not emphasized enough in early retrieving training and it is quite common for beginners to want to get the dog retrieving off the floor right away. In the old days, dogs were penalized more heavily for mouthing. When it comes down to two top working dogs in the competition ring the one that doesn’t mouth the dumbbell is the one who wins the blue ribbon. Don’t skip this early week of training.
You’ll need a dog, a dumbbell and treats. This method assumes you have taught your puppy retrieve games so he knows the words, “Take it or Fetch”, “Out” and “Hold”. Before you groan and sit back in the chair and release the dog, don’t despair. This method will still get you started. The key word here is REPETITION. If you do something 3 times per day, with 6 repetitions each time, that is 18 times per day. Multiply that by 7 days and you have a dog that has a grasp of the early concept of retrieving.
Now, put a buckle collar on your dog. Sorry, no prong collars or choke chains will do as this is supposed to encourage the dog to view the retrieving basics as fun. Get on the floor with the dog. Get the dog off your lap. Stop him from licking your face and trying to steal the treat from your hand. See, isn’t this fun?
Have the dog sit in front of you. Put the index finger of your left hand under the dog’s collar with the palm of your hand facing you. With your left thumb slide it in the dog’s mouth and find the spot in the back of the dog’s mouth behind the molars. If this were a horse this would be where the “bit” goes. Do this; a couple of times so you can quickly find the spot without the dog struggling. Immediately when the dog opens his mouth say, “Take it” (or “Fetch” or whatever word you want to use) and pop in a treat. Now, watch the sitcom until the next commercial. Repeat step one during the commercial. It is important that you hug and laugh with the dog in between repetitions during this process. There should be no pressure on the dog.
Here comes the second commercial. Now instead of putting a treat in the dog’s mouth you are going to slide the dumbbell in.
To repeat: you have the dog sit closely in front of you on the floor. Put the index finger of your left hand under the dog’s flat collar with your palm facing you. Slide your left thumb into the “bit” space and when the dog’s mouth opens gently slide the dumbbell into his mouth with your right hand. Most dogs will go nuts or try to spit out the dumbbell the first time you do this. What I like about this method is that you are close to the dog and have a hold on the collar. With your left hand cup thumb and other three fingers under the dog’s chin. Gently. Stroke the dog’s head and left shoulder telling him “Good hold”. The dumbbell should not have an opportunity to rock as you control the dog’s chin with your left hand. Do not pinch the dog’s mouth over the dumbbell at any time. Remember, gentle hands.
To remove the dumbbell, in the early stages, put your left thumb back into the mouth and say “Out” and gently TAKE the dumbbell out of his mouth. It is important that you NOT rip it from him. Immediately give him a treat and tell him what a good dog he is. Now repeat this exercise for the rest of the week, 3x’s per day, 6 repetitions each time for a total of 18 times per day and 126 times per week. If you are gentle with the dog he won’t be afraid and won’t struggle.
The hold part of the retrieving exercise, in my opinion, is not emphasized enough in early retrieving training and it is quite common for beginners to want to get the dog retrieving off the floor right away. In the old days, dogs were penalized more heavily for mouthing. When it comes down to two top working dogs in the competition ring the one that doesn’t mouth the dumbbell is the one who wins the blue ribbon. Don’t skip this early week of training.
Border Collie-A Twilight Zone Episode
I’ve lost toys. I’ve lost keys, leashes, dog food bowls. But lose a dog without ever opening the front door?
I should have known something was up when my aging sable, mahogany Sheltie, who always sleeps under my bed, wouldn't settle down for the night. My dogs and I have a nightly ritual. They all are used to getting treats before I get into bed. The Brown Border Collie (Brown Dog) liked to bully the Sheltie into giving up his cookie. So rather than a nightly ritual of, “No-no-bad dog, poor Sheltie”, I simply would throw the dog cookies under the bed for the little guy and he would happily scoot under and munch and crunch and fall asleep. This has worked out great all winter long. But the puppy Border Collie (Black Dog) had been watching this ritual from his bedside crate for months and finally decided he wanted a piece of the action. One morning, with one eye on the hallway and one eye on the open bedroom door, he went exploring under the bed in search of those treats. Finding nothing of value under there (since it was morning and the cookies were long eaten) he settled on ripping the muslin attached under the bedsprings. He wasn’t very quiet or neat about his new adventure and it didn’t take long for me to discover him.
Older and equally intelligent Brown Dog was sitting on the sidelines watching the Sheltie’s nightly snack and now the Black Dog’s adventure under the bed. The bulb over Brown’s Dog’s head finally came on. “If they can get treats under there so can I.” That was when it happened, a scene from out of the Twilight Zone. My dog had heard a call from the other side and was gone, disappeared, not in the garage, kennel, bedrooms, bathrooms or even hidden in the broom closet where the dog food canister resides. That evening the Sheltie would not go under the bed to retrieve his treats and was pacing nervously, following me around from room to room. Finally, I heard a whine from my bedroom. The sound was from under my bed. I got down on hands and knees. There was my full-grown 22”-high Brown Dog stuck under a bed that is 7” off the floor. I encouraged him to come out. He whined.
“I’m stuck, you idiot” He glared at me. I went around the other side where his bushy brown and white tail was sticking out and asked him to move out from under there.
“Duh! I’m stuck and all the goodies are gone. Throw more cookies or get me out of here”.
Okay, okay, I’m supposedly the more intelligent one of the bunch. I’m alone and my dog is stuck under the bed. Do I call 9-1-1?
“Hello, Fire, Police or Medical?” Hmm, just send a 40ish Firefighter and maybe the dog AND I will get lucky.
But I knew the only thing left was to lift the bed up from one end. I assumed the dog would be smart enough to understand that once I lifted the bed he could simply walk away. Since I couldn’t see the look on his face he was saved my laughing at him. Well, it took a couple of encouraging words, some silence while he figured it out and then he jumped up, up and away.
See, what’s nice about dogs is they don’t suffer from embarrassment; quite the opposite. His motto is nothing ventured, nothing gained. The next night he started to put his nose under the bed again to scope out the cookie situation.
”Sorry, Bud”, I patted my leg to keep him from repeating his search. “This isn’t going to be a new nightly ritual”.
And the cartoon frame over the Shelties head? “What a moron!”
PS: Does anyone do caricatures? If only the Fireman was there to hold the digital camera.
I should have known something was up when my aging sable, mahogany Sheltie, who always sleeps under my bed, wouldn't settle down for the night. My dogs and I have a nightly ritual. They all are used to getting treats before I get into bed. The Brown Border Collie (Brown Dog) liked to bully the Sheltie into giving up his cookie. So rather than a nightly ritual of, “No-no-bad dog, poor Sheltie”, I simply would throw the dog cookies under the bed for the little guy and he would happily scoot under and munch and crunch and fall asleep. This has worked out great all winter long. But the puppy Border Collie (Black Dog) had been watching this ritual from his bedside crate for months and finally decided he wanted a piece of the action. One morning, with one eye on the hallway and one eye on the open bedroom door, he went exploring under the bed in search of those treats. Finding nothing of value under there (since it was morning and the cookies were long eaten) he settled on ripping the muslin attached under the bedsprings. He wasn’t very quiet or neat about his new adventure and it didn’t take long for me to discover him.
Older and equally intelligent Brown Dog was sitting on the sidelines watching the Sheltie’s nightly snack and now the Black Dog’s adventure under the bed. The bulb over Brown’s Dog’s head finally came on. “If they can get treats under there so can I.” That was when it happened, a scene from out of the Twilight Zone. My dog had heard a call from the other side and was gone, disappeared, not in the garage, kennel, bedrooms, bathrooms or even hidden in the broom closet where the dog food canister resides. That evening the Sheltie would not go under the bed to retrieve his treats and was pacing nervously, following me around from room to room. Finally, I heard a whine from my bedroom. The sound was from under my bed. I got down on hands and knees. There was my full-grown 22”-high Brown Dog stuck under a bed that is 7” off the floor. I encouraged him to come out. He whined.
“I’m stuck, you idiot” He glared at me. I went around the other side where his bushy brown and white tail was sticking out and asked him to move out from under there.
“Duh! I’m stuck and all the goodies are gone. Throw more cookies or get me out of here”.
Okay, okay, I’m supposedly the more intelligent one of the bunch. I’m alone and my dog is stuck under the bed. Do I call 9-1-1?
“Hello, Fire, Police or Medical?” Hmm, just send a 40ish Firefighter and maybe the dog AND I will get lucky.
But I knew the only thing left was to lift the bed up from one end. I assumed the dog would be smart enough to understand that once I lifted the bed he could simply walk away. Since I couldn’t see the look on his face he was saved my laughing at him. Well, it took a couple of encouraging words, some silence while he figured it out and then he jumped up, up and away.
See, what’s nice about dogs is they don’t suffer from embarrassment; quite the opposite. His motto is nothing ventured, nothing gained. The next night he started to put his nose under the bed again to scope out the cookie situation.
”Sorry, Bud”, I patted my leg to keep him from repeating his search. “This isn’t going to be a new nightly ritual”.
And the cartoon frame over the Shelties head? “What a moron!”
PS: Does anyone do caricatures? If only the Fireman was there to hold the digital camera.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Two steps forward, three steps back!
When owned by dogs you will find yourself at one end of the house vacuuming and the dogs are at the other end trashing the place. You can put the dogs in crates while you clean but they will return their kingdom to their idea of normalcy as soon as they are loose. Two steps forward and three back.
Advise from a dog trainer: to keep dogs busy when you leave for work: put a treat inside a toy or dog bone so the dog spends all of it’s energy getting the treat out. Hmm, today I found the ants had also discovered this is a great time consuming activity for them. Two steps forward and three back.
If your over zealous puppy is being destructive while you are surfing the Internet simply put him in his crate. Yeah, but then he wakes up at 5 a.m. when I went to bed at midnight after cruising around cyber space. Another three steps back.
If you can’t find your dog while you are cooking in the kitchen never assume he is sleeping. “Oh, good, he’s finally tired after that four mile walk”. Nope, he’s in the back room under the bed ripping out that muslin stuff under the box springs. Wanted: someone to walk two Border Collies 5 miles per day…each. Obviously 4 miles for one dog and 1 mile for another per day just ain’t workin’ for them or me. Another three steps back.
My first Hillsboro mouse: One winter evening I mindlessly walked from the kitchen, through the pantry/laundry room into the garage. I flipped on the light switch in the garage and screamed. There running across the floor making tiny screeching noises was a small, gray mouse. I saw him. He saw the three dogs. The dogs were all standing around me with question marks over their furry heads. As usual they thought I was nuts and never saw or heard the mouse. Well, Mr. Mousy packed his bags and I never saw him again. But I wasn’t taking any chances that he was going to munch on the dog food in the big, plastic Rubbermaid container. I moved the bucket into the broom closet inside the warm house. No late night dog meals with me scooping a cup into the dark dog food container only to bring up two beady eyes looking back at me. I’ve already had that experience way back in Hopkinton, Massachusetts. I screamed, Mr. Mouse went flying and we never saw each other again. My husband was rolling on the floor laughing, of course.
Only a dog person would get up early on her day off, drive 2.5 hours to a well know dog trainer, spend an hour of intense training, stop to eat afterwards, drive back home in the pouring rain another 2.5 hours and then the next day complain about having to drive “x” number of miles to buy something non dog related. Gas goes up to $2.00 per gallon? $3.00 per gallon? No problem. If there’s a dog event those of us with dog crates in the back of our vehicles will be the only ones on the road early in the morning. Priorities, ya know. I remember in the early 80’s driving south from Wilsonville on I5 when the ash from Mt. St. Helens was swirling around the car. Heck, there was a dog show. Hubbie growled long and hard about that one but I had a dog event to go to and neither rain, nor snow, nor mountain eruption was going to stop me. The show must go on. I could have made a Subaru commercial that day.
All my happy memories are dog memories, time spent with my dogs, people I’ve met at dog shows, the trips to dog events, the training, planning, the tears, laughter and celebrating after the shows, the anger and sadness when one of the beloved dogs die or a great dog trainer or judge passes on. Life with the dogs is like a music video, with beautiful jazz or County music playing in the background. Pan to the hot trips along the Columbia Gorge in the 1980’s with the windows down. Years later different dogs, an updated car with air conditioning, an older more confident me, the music blasting and me singing along off key, the sun coming up over Mt Hood. After the show, driving back and stopping along the Gorge to look at the sunset, the dogs sleeping in their crates, the ribbons laid across the seat. Now pan to an I5 trip down to California to either San Francisco or Sacramento or San Juan Capistrano or over to Denver, Colorado or north on I5 to Vancouver, Canada. Different dogs, different memories, different sunsets and sunrises but these are all snapshots in my mind. This great sport of dog obedience has taken me to places I may never have seen otherwise. It makes me forget all the steps backwards. I’d rather live in a messy house with my beloved dogs than a perfect house alone.
Advise from a dog trainer: to keep dogs busy when you leave for work: put a treat inside a toy or dog bone so the dog spends all of it’s energy getting the treat out. Hmm, today I found the ants had also discovered this is a great time consuming activity for them. Two steps forward and three back.
If your over zealous puppy is being destructive while you are surfing the Internet simply put him in his crate. Yeah, but then he wakes up at 5 a.m. when I went to bed at midnight after cruising around cyber space. Another three steps back.
If you can’t find your dog while you are cooking in the kitchen never assume he is sleeping. “Oh, good, he’s finally tired after that four mile walk”. Nope, he’s in the back room under the bed ripping out that muslin stuff under the box springs. Wanted: someone to walk two Border Collies 5 miles per day…each. Obviously 4 miles for one dog and 1 mile for another per day just ain’t workin’ for them or me. Another three steps back.
My first Hillsboro mouse: One winter evening I mindlessly walked from the kitchen, through the pantry/laundry room into the garage. I flipped on the light switch in the garage and screamed. There running across the floor making tiny screeching noises was a small, gray mouse. I saw him. He saw the three dogs. The dogs were all standing around me with question marks over their furry heads. As usual they thought I was nuts and never saw or heard the mouse. Well, Mr. Mousy packed his bags and I never saw him again. But I wasn’t taking any chances that he was going to munch on the dog food in the big, plastic Rubbermaid container. I moved the bucket into the broom closet inside the warm house. No late night dog meals with me scooping a cup into the dark dog food container only to bring up two beady eyes looking back at me. I’ve already had that experience way back in Hopkinton, Massachusetts. I screamed, Mr. Mouse went flying and we never saw each other again. My husband was rolling on the floor laughing, of course.
Only a dog person would get up early on her day off, drive 2.5 hours to a well know dog trainer, spend an hour of intense training, stop to eat afterwards, drive back home in the pouring rain another 2.5 hours and then the next day complain about having to drive “x” number of miles to buy something non dog related. Gas goes up to $2.00 per gallon? $3.00 per gallon? No problem. If there’s a dog event those of us with dog crates in the back of our vehicles will be the only ones on the road early in the morning. Priorities, ya know. I remember in the early 80’s driving south from Wilsonville on I5 when the ash from Mt. St. Helens was swirling around the car. Heck, there was a dog show. Hubbie growled long and hard about that one but I had a dog event to go to and neither rain, nor snow, nor mountain eruption was going to stop me. The show must go on. I could have made a Subaru commercial that day.
All my happy memories are dog memories, time spent with my dogs, people I’ve met at dog shows, the trips to dog events, the training, planning, the tears, laughter and celebrating after the shows, the anger and sadness when one of the beloved dogs die or a great dog trainer or judge passes on. Life with the dogs is like a music video, with beautiful jazz or County music playing in the background. Pan to the hot trips along the Columbia Gorge in the 1980’s with the windows down. Years later different dogs, an updated car with air conditioning, an older more confident me, the music blasting and me singing along off key, the sun coming up over Mt Hood. After the show, driving back and stopping along the Gorge to look at the sunset, the dogs sleeping in their crates, the ribbons laid across the seat. Now pan to an I5 trip down to California to either San Francisco or Sacramento or San Juan Capistrano or over to Denver, Colorado or north on I5 to Vancouver, Canada. Different dogs, different memories, different sunsets and sunrises but these are all snapshots in my mind. This great sport of dog obedience has taken me to places I may never have seen otherwise. It makes me forget all the steps backwards. I’d rather live in a messy house with my beloved dogs than a perfect house alone.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Sylvia Bishop Seminar-April 2005
“Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work”-Aristotle
Finding the perfect dog trainer is like looking for the Holy Grail. Your search is long, sometimes expensive, involving much travel and travail, with no end in sight. So it was that going to a Sylvia Bishop seminar was like having a religious experience. My eyes were opened and after two days I am converted to her method.
Sylvia Bishop holds the secrets for making our relationship and obedience training with our dogs more intense and pleasurable. Her seminar is not for the weak of heart or tiny of bladder. There are no potty breaks for the human attendees and you can count on losing a few pounds over the weekend. That said she is the epiphany of dog trainers, the guru of dog obedience competitors from England, Australia, the United States.
Our first hour had us sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a TV watching excerpts from two of her DVD’s. We were mesmerized as we watched the tape of her training several of her Border Collies while they were swirling and happily running around a small stone patio. Amazingly, she trains in her home. (No fancy dog training building is needed for her methods.) When she calls a particular dog to her it immediately comes over to be trained. When another dog thinks she must be mistaken and he should be the one trained she gently shoos him away. No feelings are hurt. If she commands one dog to drop, immediately several of her dogs may drop at the same time. They are all so obviously happy to be trained by her and spend time in her inner circle.
Then she explained her theory and philosophy of dog training. Your dog must have the “want” to work for you. You do not beg the dog to heel, do stays, or retrieve. You show the dog gradually what you want, be profuse with your praise and teach the dog to have the confidence to try, try again. The dog comes to you; you do not force or go after the dog. Sylvia is a perfectionist and she expects the same from seminar attendees.
Sylvia’s seminar was an inspiration to all of us. There were no questions that she could not answer and all her advice was easy to put into use. During the seminar a Siberian Husky went from lethargic heeling to prancing and had a blast learning. Sylvia would take an attendee and her dog and “fix” a problem. Several of us clapped when the result was so astonishingly clear. The dogs that were having problems “wanted” to be right. She took a 10-week old Golden Retriever puppy and put it on a table and taught it to watch her. The puppy also was rewarded with lots of hugs and kisses from Sylvia.
There were spots for participants and spots for spectators. I, a spectator, furiously wrote notes while watching Sylvia teach. Once home I knew it would be hard to remember every tiny detail. I can see I’ll need to invest in her DVD’s and attend another seminar, this time as a participant.
No seminar can run smoothly without the right location. Double C Training in Klamath Falls, a full use dog facility (cats too) is definitely a class act. For those of us who were spectators and had to bring our dogs they offered us the use of dog runs so that our pooches would be comfortable. Of course, I had to buy some nice dog toys to keep my Border Collies happy while they were relaxing.
While I would probably think twice about driving down to Klamath Falls in April again I will definitely attend future seminars by Sylvia Bishop. Several of us had to leave early on Sunday to make it through the passes due to the increasingly snowy weather. The long ride home to Hillsboro gave me a chance to ponder on the changes the sport of obedience has gone through since I first came onto the scene in the 1970’s. I only wish I had met Sylvia Bishop then. Our dogs are better for us having met her.
Finding the perfect dog trainer is like looking for the Holy Grail. Your search is long, sometimes expensive, involving much travel and travail, with no end in sight. So it was that going to a Sylvia Bishop seminar was like having a religious experience. My eyes were opened and after two days I am converted to her method.
Sylvia Bishop holds the secrets for making our relationship and obedience training with our dogs more intense and pleasurable. Her seminar is not for the weak of heart or tiny of bladder. There are no potty breaks for the human attendees and you can count on losing a few pounds over the weekend. That said she is the epiphany of dog trainers, the guru of dog obedience competitors from England, Australia, the United States.
Our first hour had us sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a TV watching excerpts from two of her DVD’s. We were mesmerized as we watched the tape of her training several of her Border Collies while they were swirling and happily running around a small stone patio. Amazingly, she trains in her home. (No fancy dog training building is needed for her methods.) When she calls a particular dog to her it immediately comes over to be trained. When another dog thinks she must be mistaken and he should be the one trained she gently shoos him away. No feelings are hurt. If she commands one dog to drop, immediately several of her dogs may drop at the same time. They are all so obviously happy to be trained by her and spend time in her inner circle.
Then she explained her theory and philosophy of dog training. Your dog must have the “want” to work for you. You do not beg the dog to heel, do stays, or retrieve. You show the dog gradually what you want, be profuse with your praise and teach the dog to have the confidence to try, try again. The dog comes to you; you do not force or go after the dog. Sylvia is a perfectionist and she expects the same from seminar attendees.
Sylvia’s seminar was an inspiration to all of us. There were no questions that she could not answer and all her advice was easy to put into use. During the seminar a Siberian Husky went from lethargic heeling to prancing and had a blast learning. Sylvia would take an attendee and her dog and “fix” a problem. Several of us clapped when the result was so astonishingly clear. The dogs that were having problems “wanted” to be right. She took a 10-week old Golden Retriever puppy and put it on a table and taught it to watch her. The puppy also was rewarded with lots of hugs and kisses from Sylvia.
There were spots for participants and spots for spectators. I, a spectator, furiously wrote notes while watching Sylvia teach. Once home I knew it would be hard to remember every tiny detail. I can see I’ll need to invest in her DVD’s and attend another seminar, this time as a participant.
No seminar can run smoothly without the right location. Double C Training in Klamath Falls, a full use dog facility (cats too) is definitely a class act. For those of us who were spectators and had to bring our dogs they offered us the use of dog runs so that our pooches would be comfortable. Of course, I had to buy some nice dog toys to keep my Border Collies happy while they were relaxing.
While I would probably think twice about driving down to Klamath Falls in April again I will definitely attend future seminars by Sylvia Bishop. Several of us had to leave early on Sunday to make it through the passes due to the increasingly snowy weather. The long ride home to Hillsboro gave me a chance to ponder on the changes the sport of obedience has gone through since I first came onto the scene in the 1970’s. I only wish I had met Sylvia Bishop then. Our dogs are better for us having met her.
Monday, March 14, 2005
New Puppy Big Dreams
He came into my life unexpectedly. I made mention to a well known dog trainer that sometime down the road I'd like to get another Border Collie puppy. Within a short time she emailed me that a mutual friend had a young BC male that she didn't have time to train. The next thing I knew I was at a show in Albany, Oregon looking at a 3.5 month old black and white Border Collie. My four year old BC, River, had just completed his third leg for his Companion Excellent Dog title at this show and our pursuit of the next title, Utility Dog, was several months or a year down the road. Would the older dog adjust to a rambunctious puppy? The owner of the BC puppy wanted me to take him home immediately, before she changed her mind. The dog and his crate barely fit into my Subaru Outback along with River, his crate, a folding chair, and a metal, wheeled dolly.
On the 1.5 hour drive north on the I5 corrider back to Hillsboro I wondered about my sanity. I really couldn't afford a new dog with the multiple shots, vet exams, neuter operation, ID chip, hip x-ray, let alone the fee to the previous owner, which I promised to pay in increments.Four months later "Levi" is a teenager, wild and happy. My bank account is definitely getting low but I don't regret my decision. River loves the new addition. I swear he looked at me back in November and said, "You finally got it right". He never enjoyed living with the three old Shetland Sheepdogs I had when he was a puppy. Now I finally see River cavorting and playing with the new Border Collie puppy.
Levi's training is progressing slowly. I have learned over the years that it is stupid to spend a small amount of time on the Novice exercises so I can get to the "fun stuff", Open and Utility. Novice is the foundation for all the exercises. Mess up the time spent training now and I'll pay for it years later. For now, Levi shows rapt attention to me when we're heeling. I reward it with a game of fetch with his favorite toy. I throw a treat on the ground ten feet from me. He runs happily out to gulp it down. I immediately call him back and guide him into a perfect front position. Someday he'll mature and we'll start showing at training matches and real trials.
Will he be another Trevor, my first competition dog who won easily and earned many trophies and ribbons? Or will Levi develop some quirk that will set us back? My diligence to each step now in his Novice training will hopefully pay off in the obedience ring. The main goal is that he enjoys being with me in the ring, understands what I ask of him and feels the love that I have for him. He is destined to be with me until he finally walks across the Rainbow Bridge.
On the 1.5 hour drive north on the I5 corrider back to Hillsboro I wondered about my sanity. I really couldn't afford a new dog with the multiple shots, vet exams, neuter operation, ID chip, hip x-ray, let alone the fee to the previous owner, which I promised to pay in increments.Four months later "Levi" is a teenager, wild and happy. My bank account is definitely getting low but I don't regret my decision. River loves the new addition. I swear he looked at me back in November and said, "You finally got it right". He never enjoyed living with the three old Shetland Sheepdogs I had when he was a puppy. Now I finally see River cavorting and playing with the new Border Collie puppy.
Levi's training is progressing slowly. I have learned over the years that it is stupid to spend a small amount of time on the Novice exercises so I can get to the "fun stuff", Open and Utility. Novice is the foundation for all the exercises. Mess up the time spent training now and I'll pay for it years later. For now, Levi shows rapt attention to me when we're heeling. I reward it with a game of fetch with his favorite toy. I throw a treat on the ground ten feet from me. He runs happily out to gulp it down. I immediately call him back and guide him into a perfect front position. Someday he'll mature and we'll start showing at training matches and real trials.
Will he be another Trevor, my first competition dog who won easily and earned many trophies and ribbons? Or will Levi develop some quirk that will set us back? My diligence to each step now in his Novice training will hopefully pay off in the obedience ring. The main goal is that he enjoys being with me in the ring, understands what I ask of him and feels the love that I have for him. He is destined to be with me until he finally walks across the Rainbow Bridge.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
In Memory of Trevor-A Beginning
I proudly stood by his side and looked into his big brown eyes, stroked his soft, blond hair and saw his love for me mirrored in his eyes. He alone shared this moment with me, a culmination of months of training. He was my dog; a Golden Retriever named Trevor, my first competition obedience dog. This moment was our first entry into an American Kennel Club obedience trial.
When puppies are young new dog owners fantasize about the ribbons, trophies and pictures that will one day cover the walls. We picture people congratulating us as we leave the obedience ring with the Highest Scoring Dog in Trial ribbon. Then the dream fades to the little bundle of energy pulling and eating at the leather leash, which is wrapped around your legs. Trevor was already a year old when the breeder in New Hampshire had to give him up. He wasn’t show quality. An early eye exam showed the beginning of cataracts. He wasn’t breeding stock but I had fallen in love with him one day at a Massachusetts Golden Retriever training show. I already had his sister, Brenda, my first Golden Retriever. The breeder called me after the results of the eye exam and asked me if I wanted Trevor. Little did I know that this genetic problem which can plague purebred dog owners would give me a chance to learn about obedience training and showing. Trevor and Brenda and I moved to Oregon in 1978. We found Dave Elizares of Elizares Kennels in Boring who believed that anyone could train a dog to win. The training began in earnest. It required hours spent in the rain, sun, early in the day or late evenings, paying attention to every detail, never accepting second best from the dog, but always having patience. It was Olympic training for the ordinary dog and dog owner. Trevor heeled by my side, watching my footwork. If I moved my left foot he would trot beside me. If I moved my right foot he stayed put. A wave of my hand and Trevor would leap into heel position. We suffered setbacks when he would anticipate a command, so thrilled that he had learned something that he wouldn’t wait for me to tell him what was expected of him. The seasons passed and Trevor and I gave demonstrations with other Elizares’ students at area malls and dog shows. The crowd clapped when my big Golden wagged his tail and sat perfectly in front of me. I was blessed to be with this beautiful, intelligent animal and loved the attention he brought me. We went on to win ribbons, trophies, Highest Scoring Dog in Trial, even traveling to Canada to obtain titles there and competed in 1980 in what was called the Gaines Regional and National Obedience competitions. This willing animal gave me everything I asked of him. It wasn’t until years later that I realized what a gift he was. Animal trainers know there are once in a lifetime animals that we are able to communicate with at a higher level. They learn effortlessly and help us to achieve our human goals. But in the end we are the ones who learn from this gift we are given. The gift is a memory of all the time spent together, the hours spent driving to shows, walking at Wilsonville Park or Champoeg Park. Nether of us spoke the other’s language but we communicated nonetheless. There will never be another Trevor but my goals for my future dogs will always be raised. We did it, boy. Exercise finished.
When puppies are young new dog owners fantasize about the ribbons, trophies and pictures that will one day cover the walls. We picture people congratulating us as we leave the obedience ring with the Highest Scoring Dog in Trial ribbon. Then the dream fades to the little bundle of energy pulling and eating at the leather leash, which is wrapped around your legs. Trevor was already a year old when the breeder in New Hampshire had to give him up. He wasn’t show quality. An early eye exam showed the beginning of cataracts. He wasn’t breeding stock but I had fallen in love with him one day at a Massachusetts Golden Retriever training show. I already had his sister, Brenda, my first Golden Retriever. The breeder called me after the results of the eye exam and asked me if I wanted Trevor. Little did I know that this genetic problem which can plague purebred dog owners would give me a chance to learn about obedience training and showing. Trevor and Brenda and I moved to Oregon in 1978. We found Dave Elizares of Elizares Kennels in Boring who believed that anyone could train a dog to win. The training began in earnest. It required hours spent in the rain, sun, early in the day or late evenings, paying attention to every detail, never accepting second best from the dog, but always having patience. It was Olympic training for the ordinary dog and dog owner. Trevor heeled by my side, watching my footwork. If I moved my left foot he would trot beside me. If I moved my right foot he stayed put. A wave of my hand and Trevor would leap into heel position. We suffered setbacks when he would anticipate a command, so thrilled that he had learned something that he wouldn’t wait for me to tell him what was expected of him. The seasons passed and Trevor and I gave demonstrations with other Elizares’ students at area malls and dog shows. The crowd clapped when my big Golden wagged his tail and sat perfectly in front of me. I was blessed to be with this beautiful, intelligent animal and loved the attention he brought me. We went on to win ribbons, trophies, Highest Scoring Dog in Trial, even traveling to Canada to obtain titles there and competed in 1980 in what was called the Gaines Regional and National Obedience competitions. This willing animal gave me everything I asked of him. It wasn’t until years later that I realized what a gift he was. Animal trainers know there are once in a lifetime animals that we are able to communicate with at a higher level. They learn effortlessly and help us to achieve our human goals. But in the end we are the ones who learn from this gift we are given. The gift is a memory of all the time spent together, the hours spent driving to shows, walking at Wilsonville Park or Champoeg Park. Nether of us spoke the other’s language but we communicated nonetheless. There will never be another Trevor but my goals for my future dogs will always be raised. We did it, boy. Exercise finished.
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