On the day of the competition I told Rusty, “Now remember, this is just for practice. We can’t think about actually winning one of these events until we see what the competition is like. I think he will make it through the course, but we are not going to have anywhere near a top time.”
“Okay.”
“Part of the learning process is running the course with a hundred people yelling in the background and other activities going on. Just like we train the horses to stay calm around other people, animals and cars, Shadow has to learn the same thing, to perform under unusual conditions. So we’re not out to win. We’re still training.”
“Hon, I’m just here to watch. As long as you’re happy with the results I’ll be happy too.”
“Okay. I just didn’t want you to set your sights too high.”
“I’m not setting anything. Just do your best and I’ll celebrate with you afterwards.”
“You even want to ‘celebrate’ an agility competition?” I asked.
Rusty’s way of celebrating usually involved sex. He said he loved to feel me alive beneath him. So we often celebrated after a bout of trouble when I could actually show him that I was still very much alive. We celebrated birthdays and anniversaries. We ‘celebrated’ many things, but celebrating a favorable outcome for an agility competition would be a first.
“Number eight? Calling contestant number eight to the starting line,” we heard over the loud speaker.
“That’s us,” I said as I stood on tip toes to give Rusty a kiss before we left. “Okay, boy,” I told Shadow. “You just ignore the people, dogs and cars. Watch me. Heel. Good boy, heel.”
Shadow trotted by my side as I found the starting line. I didn’t know why I was feeling nervous and hoped it didn’t rub off on Shadow. He knew how to complete all the obstacles in the course, but there were still a few that he didn’t like. I’d watched the other dogs run the course and a few of them flew through it rejoicing with each accomplishment. Those dogs were overjoyed to be working and thrived in competition. Shadow wasn’t quite that enthusiastic, and he wasn’t used to working with a lot of distractions, so I really only had hopes of making it all the way through the course. Even that would be a victory for us. In the world of agility only the top few had any real hopes of winning. The rest of us were just trying to get better at it and have fun with our dogs.
I had walked the course to familiarize myself with the order of the obstacles but this was my first time at an agility competition, too. So far one dog had balked at an obstacle and ran off the field. I’d heard that wasn’t unusual. So if we could just get through all the obstacles and finish I’d be happy. When I walked the course I was pleased with the arrangement. This was a family friendly event, Bark in the Park, and so the obstacles were arranged in order to make the dog and handler ease into the competition. They could have placed something challenging as the first obstacle but they chose to ramp up to the more difficult ones. I thought we could do this.
I unclipped the leash and stuffed it in my pocket. The timer began after we crossed the starting line but that didn’t concern me. I jogged to the first obstacle and Shadow breezed over the hurdle and then over the paneled hurdle after it. He loved to jump. After the hurdles we had to turn and Shadow started toward the next obstacle in his sight.
“Ak! No! Shadow, heel!” I called to correct his route. Many of the other handlers used a clicker to communicate with their dog but I had never learned how to train a dog to respond to the clicker so it was just Shadow and myself out there on the course. He veered in my direction disappointed that he wasn’t able to try the tunnel. He liked the tunnel, too, but one of the challenges in an agility match was to get the dog to obey the handler and not just do whatever they wanted. The obstacles were numbered. Each one had a cone beside it with a number taped onto it, but of course Shadow couldn’t read the numbers. He had to rely on me.
“Heel Shadow! Now up! Up you go!” He walked up a short ramp. “Now stop! Stop. Stay.” An official came over to the platform and pet Shadow, scratched him behind the ears and ran a hand over his back. Another area of obedience was having a well socialized dog that was friendly with other people. When the man stepped back I continued. “Okay, down, heel, good boy.” The officials had really taken beginners into consideration when arranging the obstacles. Shadow had to climb a ramp to reach the pause table which was directly followed by a slightly more challenging ramp, the A-frame. Shadow was getting distracted by the crowd and looked like he was feeling uncertain so I tried rushing him through the A-frame. He went over it with barely a pause but was still watching the people outside the course. “Shadow, heel!” I called as I made the turn towards the tunnel Shadow had always loved. At home I had to keep him from doing it twice. After passing through he gave the tunnel a glance and I knew he wanted to go back and do it again. “Shadow, heel! Here’s another one! Heel!” He looked at the collapsed tunnel and dashed through, then leapt through the tire jump. I wished he hadn’t done that, but it was the next numbered obstacle, so it didn’t harm his score. He was supposed to check with me before proceeding. “Shadow, wait,” I commanded. The next obstacle took some coaxing from me. “Heel.” We came to the weave poles slowly. The enthusiastic dogs nearly ran through it but it had to be taken with caution. If the dog even missed one turn, points would be taken off. The obstacle consisted of poles placed in a line and the dog had to weave in and out of the poles until reaching the end. Shadow could do it, but he didn’t like the focus it required to complete it. He would begin weaving and then wanted to do something more interesting like tunnels or jumps. “Shadow heel.” The crowd watched as I worked with my dog. The spectators were a mixed bunch but most of them had seen an agility match before. They waited to see what the dog would do. Anticipation mounted as they sensed this was an awkward obstacle for us. Would Shadow complete it? Or would he screw up? We had already lost the match time wise. The fastest dogs completed the whole course in a minute or less. The dogs who lived for agility only needed to know the next command and took the whole course at a run. We could almost do that at home, but not in a park full of people. “Shadow, heel, now weave, weave. Come on, boy, weave, one, weave, two, good boy.” He was slow. He didn’t like it. He was distracted. He almost stopped. “Ah ah! Keep going, weave, weave, there you go! Good boy! Now heel!” I jogged over to the dog walk. This was another obstacle that Shadow had never liked. It was high off the ground and he didn’t like being able to see down. “Up, go up!” I commanded. He started ascending the narrow ramp. “Good boy! Up!” I wanted to tell him to heel but he associated heeling with being on the ground so I just continued on quickly so he wouldn’t have as much time to think about heights. “Come, Shadow, come, good boy, almost through, okay down! Shadow down!” Only two more obstacles left but the next one was the hardest. It wasn’t as high but this structure moved underfoot. “Shadow heel, now up, good boy!” He reached the pivot point and stopped. “Easy, come on, you can do it.” He stepped forward, felt the teeter totter move and almost jumped off. “Ahah! No. Stay.” I moved to the end of the board and commanded, “Come! Shadow, come!” He ran down the board as though he was afraid it was going to bite him. “Okay one more jump! Jump, Shadow!” He cleared the broad jump and the run was over. I heaved a sigh of relief. “Good boy! Good Shadow! Now sit.” He sat and I clipped the leash back on. Whew! We had made it!
Rusty clasped me in a hug.
“I was holding my breath for the whole run,” he admitted.
“You can breathe again.”
“Did you win?”
“No… and yes. We didn’t win the competition but we completed our goal. Maybe next time we’ll do better.”
An Australian shepherd won the match, but Sparky lived and breathed agility. His eagerness to run the course was evident from the moment his owner walked him to the starting line. He was a spring waiting to be sprung. And when his owner spoke the first command he practically read his handler’s mind as they ran the whole course at a sprint. He was a winner through and through. Several of the dogs were like Sparky and there was stiff competition amongst the top dogs.
“Do the bigger dogs scare you?” Rusty asked.
“No! Wow, I hadn’t even thought about it. Even that Rottweiler doesn’t seem to frighten me. Guess I’m in obedience mode.”
Dogs in every size competed. The smallest was a Pomeranian. There were shepherds and hounds, lap dogs and working dogs. The variety of dogs was astounding. The largest was a Rottweiler bigger than me. Then there was a lighter but taller Great Dane. It was encouraging to see so many people who valued a well trained pet.
We achieved three goals that day. I overcame my fear of dogs. Shadow’s speed had been nowhere close to a winning time but he received two certificates, one in obedience and the other in agility. While part of me thinks it’s silly to strive for a piece of paper confirming what I already know my dog can do, part of me looks at the piece of paper and says, “We did it! We made it through, so we can make it through again. And again.” That’s what life is all about. Making it through no matter what comes at us. Sometimes we laugh through it. Sometimes we cry. But no matter what we must come through, dust off our boots, and look for more adventures.