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Afraid to be Beautiful


Donald McCaig
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Dear Fellow Sheepdoggers,

 

Fly and I may have 2012’s failure record (aka “thanks for the entry check”): of 18 starts: 1 low score finish, 6 Time called, 11 Ret or DQ.

 

After Ralph Pulfer’s first trial, 50? years ago, he asked the judge what he should do different: “Get another dog.”

 

Usually that’s good advice. It’s okay if you’re losing because of HANDLER/TRAINER ERROR – another matter if you’ve got a dog out there who doesn’t have the ability or doesn’t reveal it with you (though he/she might with somebody else). Asking a dog to do what it cannot is thoughtless or worse.

 

Training a young dog, introducing it to its world, bringing it into its virtues is enormous fun. Trialing a dog like Fly is like dancing with the worst partner you ever had. She’s so bad your own mistakes don’t matter. You can’t offer a delicate split second command when a risky move is wanted because your dog is wallowing . A bad partner makes you stupid. Who cares if a command is late when the dog isn’t taking it anyway?

 

Winning sheepdog trials isn’t about WINNING. My wife likes to win a couple games of computer solitaire before she pays the bills.

 

Running sheepdog trials is about virtuosity – that concentration which brings you and your dog out of your every day scratch-whereever-it-itches selves into something 19th century poets called “the sublime” .

 

One morning at a fast food counter I greeted a girl, “Good morning. You look happy.”

 

The girl – she couldn’t have been seventeen - said, “I get my first paycheck today and I’m buying my first car.”

 

That’s “ the sublime”. Seeing your newborn, your beloved’s return from faroff, a ewe’s nicker to her newborn lamb in the misty morning; the sublime’s not just for poets – we’ve all been there.

 

Since I’m only running one dog I hear of good dogs for sale. My stock answer, “I can’t buy another dog because I’d give up on Fly.”

 

If she was hopeless, I would give up. There’s no point working with a dog that simply cannot do what I ask. But at home she shows flashes of such utter brilliance she makes me gasp – only to get to a trial and quit or stop listening and keep the ewes against a fence.

 

It isn’t nobility on my part. I’ve got this intricate doggy puzzle, one that tests everything I’ve learned and become in 30 years with sheepdogs.

 

Here’s what she’s told me. She was born timid with a great heart. Contradiction R Fly. Her lack of dog-on-dog (and dog with people) skills make me think she was taken off the litter early and/or not nurtured. At 2?, she worked a hill lambing where she learned great sheep reading, gathering and shedding skills. She doesn’t understand or like driving. She was a kennel dog until she was 4 and perhaps an unworked brood bitch for her last year in Scotland.

 

Bev Lambert did very well with Fly until she started quitting and biting Bev;s husband.

 

Fly's determined defenses include: she runs to her crate or behind a chair when the other dogs go out to pee. She won’t come out of her crate (at one trial I had to upend it). If she jumps in a car or the back of a truck she may not come out ( Since this may be anyone’s car or truck I bought a catchpole (long loop on the end of a stick) so the neighbor didn’t have to (a) abandon their truck or (B) take Fly home with them.

 

Best not reach for her collar, she’ll bite. And if she doesn’t know you and you move funny, she’ll bite. Jealously she’d like to bite Anne.

 

Oh, and she leaves us to run back to the house on walks or car at sheepdog trials or races down the motel hallway desperate to get in her room whichever one that is.

 

Anne says Fly adores me. I think I’m the only port in a storm. Certainly she’d never work for anyone else and rehoming her as a pet would be just asking someone else to kill her.

 

In my desperation,I’ve tried some pretty weird things with Fly including aroma therapy. (Don’t ask). Where’s the Pet Sensitive now that I need her?

 

The fall is the season for Virginia Trials so I decided to convince Fly that home (where she was dependable and sometimes brilliant) was no different than sheepdog trials. I’d drive the 2-3 hours to the trials, run her and turn around and drive home so Fly could sleep on her own pad that night. As few commands as possible – if it’d take lots of quick commands to hit a gate, she’d just have to miss the gate. I just wanted her to get around. Inbye she’d work with me. When she went wrong we walked. We walked a lot.

 

So we went back, not to square one but to square 15 or 16, open work. At Robin French’s suggestion I set up panels. Sometimes I’d shed off two groups of sheep and have Fly drive them in a circle around the main flock. At trials I was easy and sweet, at home I insisted. Six days a week, twenty minutes of farmwork or training.

 

By now, she’ll go out with the other dogs without lurking behind her chair and she stays with me and the other dogs walking and though I still don’t trust her – and wouldn’t try to drag her out of her crate –I don’t panic when a well meaning stranger reaches down in a motel hallway to pet her. Fly was loose for Thanksgiving dinner with 16 guests, our two dogs and a dog visitor.

 

Last Thursday – we’ve got a limping (breeding) ram who I catch to treat every couple days. Because he’s slow, he and his harem separate from the flock of 75? Ewes. They were 4-500 yards away in another field so Fly couldn’t see them but she took my whistled redirects without demur and picked them up. A ninety degree dogleg to the hole in the fence so I paused her frequently so she didn’t head them and bring them straight and Harem needed time to catch up to Flock.

 

In the open. two hundred yards out, Fly had to bring Flock and Harem and when Harem lagged, she had to swing wide and regather, bringing Flock slowly enough so Harem could catch up. She took the gentlest whistles flawlessly. At the lot gate they swirled, unwilling but on voice she tucked and tucked until one brave soul decided to walk in. Jam the ewes, hook the ram, give him his shot, squirt his foot, leave the gate open so they could find their own way out.

 

I was really happy. I was using those nearly inaudible whistles dog, sheep and handler prefer. For those minutes Fly was right.

 

I finally understood her: “She’s afraid to be beautiful.”

 

As it happened, that same afternoon I saw a post on Sheepdog L – the VBCA wanted handlers for a new trial at the Tuckahoe Plantation outside Richmond.

 

In January I’m flying to Seattle to visit my sister and, of course, I scheduled my visit so I can run a couple Washington trials too. I enjoy meeting new handlers and dogs but – since flying and not home will stress Fly - those trials probably weren’t going to end well. This was the last Virginia trial before January.

 

 

I wondered: had Fly changed? Was she willing to take a very big chance with her understanding of the world? Or was that one day’s work and our connectedness something she’d never bring to the trial field?

 

What the hell. I’ve Richmond friends to see and one more RET wouldn’t hurt our 2012 record. I brought Peg too. Peg’s in training to be my literary dog.

 

Next morning at the motel I got some writing done but when I went out my car wouldn’t start. So okay. Wrecker and rental? Not start's happened before so I rested the car an hour and it fired right up. I put the wrecker/rental phone numbers on my cell and went sheepdog trialing. I am grateful to the VBCA and the hosts putting on new trials. We need them.

 

Short course and the sheep were a mixed bag of man-friendly, dog shy fliers.

 

Flly showed no interest in anything sheepy. When they ran right past the chair, she didn’t raise her head. At some point she decided to climb into my lap. I’m as sappy-sentimental as anyone at home, but undemonstrative in public. Dog in lap at a trial was a first.

 

Soon enough we walked out, pausing to tell Tom Lacy who he was judging and Tom said “Have fun out there.”

 

“I hope to.”

 

OK. Fly is vaguely looking for sheep. I down her beside the post and send her casually. She outruns like she couldn’t care less. Nothing wrong with it, but couldn’t care less. It’s a dogleg so I flank her toward the fetch panels and tweet quiet pauses, no full down. She brings them quietly to my feet – these sheep usually make their break here, through the chairs, behind the judge's car and often to the exhaust. Fly brings them around quietly. Toward the drive panels, I can stop whistling some of the time. There’s a moment at the panels when I insist on a flank and when Fly takes it the sheep lurch. She’s been holding pressure.

 

(When a dog isn’t right, it’s very hard to hear what she’s saying. That a refusal doesn’t mean ” No, I’m not listening.” it means “Boss, these sheep are leaning on me”)

 

But my whistles are quiet and she’s taking them and through the panels, too high on the crossdrive but I don’t dare change her mood or pace, so no frantic last minute corrections and she missed.

 

Nice line to the shedding ring and unlike group after group, Fly’s flocklet isn’t galloping.

 

I don’t look away at my watch. I daren’t look away. I call her in and she splits two and holds them but Judge Lacy calls “They were out of the ring.” So Fly regathers. She’s a fine shedder and we get our second shed.

 

I start for the pen latch and Tom says, “Other side,” but when I arrive, hat's the hinge and some fumbling later I get the pen open. Nobody’s penned these sheep yet but Fly keeps them in the opening and turns them back when they try to bolt. Thinking back, I probably should have more man pressure on them and they’re not penned when time is called. When I pass the truck, Tom says, “Sorry about sending you to the wrong place,” and I give his arm a squeeze. Hell, I don’t care. For the first time Fly and I were working together. For a few seconds we were in the sublime. Now, Fly doesn’t want to let them go, doesn’t want to let the exhaust dog have them. She knows she’s beautiful and she likes it.

 

One more: “Didn’t finish?” Don’t matter a damn.

 

The car started and I left it running outside the motel until I got changed and fed the dogs and called Anne. When I leave dogs in a motel room, I turn on the fan for its white noise and pull the blinds and turn off all the lights.

 

My friends are bird dog people and regulars at Millies Diner which is my favorite Richmond restaurant. Since one friend owns a repair shop I didn’t worry the car might not start after. It was a wonderful dinner with good food, lots of doggy stories and laughter.

 

The mechanic walked with me to the car which started. He identified the problem (faulty fuel pump relay or bad solder at the ECM (whatever that is)).

 

In the motel room, Fly had dug out the pillows so she could sleep where last night I’d laid my head.

 

Donald McCaig

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Sublime is a wonderful word for what you describ. I had one of those day, moments or minutes the other day with a dog that never gave me that feeling before. Ahhhhh nice

Thanks for the story about your beautiful dog Donald

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Thank you, Donald. There was an awful lot that was good in your tale and it brought tears to my eyes.

 

I don't have your experience; I don't have sheep or anything to train on (just occasional work to be done here); and I don't have a dog like Fly - but I do have Dan and, like Fly for you, he has been a puzzle and a mystery to me, a bundle of contradictions, a dog who either takes my breath away because he's done something so beautiful, or left me breathless with yelling and running.

 

But, he's my dog and, if I had another, newer one that was easier to work with, I wouldn't work with him at all unless I needed *him* for a certain job or two that he is really good at accomplishing. And, if I got another, my husband might just call it quits with me. How could I get another if I don't have work enough for the dogs I already have? What good would it do for *me* to screw up yet another dog?

 

I love your stories, musings, ramblings. Thank you for sharing.

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That was beautifully written and beautifully done. I love your musings about the journey you are on with Fly. Her quirks remind me of Shoshone, who never got to work sheep, was badly treated for a couple years, and brought me to tears more than once.

 

The knowledge that you either have to work with the dog in front of you or have it put down is humbling, and more than a little frightening. Bless you for seeing Fly through her fears and foibles.

 

Ruth and Agent Gibbs

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Donald has neglected to mention that he and Fly won the trial Saturday. :)/> Whole lots of people who were very happy to see it so, as well! I know i was thrilled with the result. :)/>

:) :) :)

 

Well, sounds like he got some *very good* advice from someone we know!

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I wonder if the time spent training and trialing might help the dog build confidence in a more general sense, and also perhaps strengthen the human/dog bond? I don't know. I am not speaking as one knowledgable about sheepdogging, so maybe I'm idealizing the venture (again).

 

Still, the OP's dedication to this dog, to me, is heartwarming. But I'm sentimental that way. I love these stories.

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I wonder if the time spent training and trialing might help the dog build confidence in a more general sense, and also perhaps strengthen the human/dog bond? I don't know. I am not speaking as one knowledgable about sheepdogging, so maybe I'm idealizing the venture (again).

 

Still, the OP's dedication to this dog, to me, is heartwarming. But I'm sentimental that way. I love these stories.

 

You bet, it builds a bond, and in turn, confidence. I strongly suspect that for Donald the bond with Fly is what it's all about. In my estimation, Donald's perspiration with that dog is not about economics, or rescuing Fly. He is getting as much from the dog as he gives -- likely more. Evidently his return, for a long while, was not performance on the trial field, but he all along was building a bond, an unspoken connection. The mutual understanding, the little eye-to-eye communications that speak volumes, a dog's unasked-for small step left/right forward/back that made all the difference...these are the types of things that, for me anyway, make training and trialing so rewarding.

 

I enjoy reading about your journey with Fly, Donald. Good going at the trial, and best wishes for many more. Too cold and icy here in this part of NW for trials this time of year, but let us know your plans for a NW visit. I'd like to meet and cheer you and Fly on the field. -- Kind regards, TEC

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I enjoy reading about your journey with Fly, Donald. Good going at the trial, and best wishes for many more. Too cold and icy here in this part of NW for trials this time of year, but let us know your plans for a visit. I'd like to meet and cheer you guys on the field. --

 

it is not too cold and icy here in this part of the PNW (WA and OR) ...we pretty much have four plus trials a month going on here. I just judged one last weekend. We are taking the Christmas weekend off from trialing though.....

 

In January we have five trials.....we will have had five this month....they are one day trials but still a lot of fun!

 

Diane

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