Steele Does 'Gility!

For several years, now, I've been looking for a dog that I can do agility with. Not just a dog who likes to run and thinks the equipment is fun. I had that with Badger for a long time. However, even before he lost his eye, Badger didn't have the drive that a good agility dog needs to succeed in the ring. That is, Badger loved "doing" agility, but achieving titles was pretty much beyond our expectations. In addition, the few times that I brought him to trials "for exhibition only" Badger was fascinated by anything that was not agility equipment. In part, it was his way of telling me that there's limitations on training on half-sized equipment on a rural lot. Even more than that, he was telling me that he was not my agility dog, no matter how much I love him. He was telling me that it was time to retire him completely and pass the baton to the next generation, as I had already decided in terms of obedience. I could live with that. Badger has taken me farther in competition than I had ever hoped to go. He needs a good, long, happy retirement.

Enter Steele. For the last couple of years, Steele has been growing, maturing, discovering his brain cells. After deciding that he needed time outside of the show ring to develop his physique, I let him run around, play, be a puppy, learn basic obedience. Was he good at obedience? No, but it taught him how to learn and that was my primary goal. One thing that raising dogs from puppies has taught me is that you can't fast forward to the end. All that character development arc and exposition in Act Two? Yeah, you really can't skip it. Sorry.

The good news is that, even if you can't skip it, Act Two gives you a chance to figure out what the puppy might be good at and turn the boring character-driven docudrama into a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. You might not be able to change your couch potato into Indiana Jones, but you might be able to influence his development enough to use his nose for scentwork or to find a rat hidden in a tube. In Steele's case, he had absolutely no interest in formal obedience. Teaching that boy to sit was an adventure--shades of Badger, anyone? But put Steele in front of my mini teeter or the puppy dog walk? Katie, bar the door! Volunteering at the agility trials the way I did got me a discount off my first series of classes with the club, he got signed up last month. Sure, the training field is almost a two-hour ride from my home, but no training classes are closer than 90 minutes from my home here in Podunk, MS.

On the appointed day, I gathered up Steele, his vaccination records, a six-foot leash and matching collar and an alternate collar, because really, you can't have too many collars. I also had a variety of training treats because Steele had never shown much interest in them before. In his little baggy, Steele had hot dog slices, chunks of cheddar cheese, slices of rotisserie chicken, and a few pieces of leftover fried chicken livers. Meanwhile, I was bringing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with potato chips for the long ride home. After all, he was doing all the work. I was just the chauffeur. Our first performance at class was, let us say, less than auspicious. Deep down, there was a spark. It simply hadn't ignited yet.

That spark lit a small flame during the third class. We had placed him through the lowered-to-the-ground tire jump to face me, asked him to hop over the tire, and made big over him when he accomplished the task. All of a sudden, the connection between praise, treats, and agility obstacles was made. This tenuous connection didn't prevent him from throwing a tantrum before going into the tunnel for the first time, but when he failed to get a treat or praise (albeit getting lots of coaxing) another connection was made. Apparently, if he went onto, over, or through and obstacle, he got a treat and praise. If he did not do any of those things, he went to the back of the line without treat or praise. At first, he tested that theory with every new item presented to him. Over time, his protests grew shorter and weaker and his enthusiasm for all of the obstacles grew. His favorite obstacle remained the dog walk, even if it was increasing in height as the weeks went on. Steele was on fire every time he trotted across it toward that target dish with a tiny spoonful of canned food placed upon it.

Over the weeks, Steele became a class favorite. Even though he was reluctant to approach new obstacles, he was never willful. He got loose a couple of times, because I was unable to catch his leash quickly enough after going through the tunnel, but he never went to harass other dogs. He was always good-natured, even when it was hot and he was tired. His excited yips during our on-going "dialogues" when we approached obstacles (are you ready, Steele? Are you going to go over those silly cavalettis?") were a source of class amusement. In short, Steele was a great ambassador for his breed, which many of my fellow students had never seen, let alone seen running agility. Moreover, he was "cute," a stumpy-legged dynamo who had no idea that he was short.

Sadly, Steele isn't going to graduate with his class, as we're unable to be there that night. We'll graduate on a later date, though, because he's ready. Am I ready? I don't know! Sequencing class is off leash. Yikes! We might , try, though, since there's no disgrace in going back to intro class for a few weeks as needed. In any case, I think that I have my new agility dog. Stick with us as we report his progress to his first "for exhibition only" trial!

Addendum!

After our return from parts unknown, I brought Steele up to the training field for his own super-duper-specialdog individual evaluation. Steele passed with flying colors, like the super-duper-specialdog boy that he is. I made a few handling errors, but nothing major, like falling over a wing jump or faceplanting into the A-frame. (Not that I've ever done anything like that before. Uh uh. I just mention those by way of example. Yes. Example.)

Now, for our next big thrill: Steele was invited to stay for the class that came after his evaluation. It was a sequencing class, although much more advanced than the one into which he'll be going. Steele accredited himself nobly on the full-sized dog walk and on his introduction to the teeter. While the instructor wisely chose for us to sequence jumps together without adding in the rear cross (and eliminating yet another opportunity for me to impact with something), Steele showed a degree of restraint and focus of which I had not thought him capable. He and I start with our own sequencing class soon, so keep your fingers crossed for him. I really do think that he has a bright future ahead of him.