Sheep camp was, as Susan said, "really effin' good". 

I really appreciated having Don Helsley present the technical details of what constitutes a good handler, good dog, and good run the first two days, helping us define our dog's and our own weaknesses, followed by Patrick's more cerebral approach of what factors influence these details, how it's all about communication, really, and learning to be effective in translating and conveying information on the field between you and your dog, making your dog accountable, etc.  Patrick is really uniquely able to read people and animals and pointing out what may sometimes afterward seem obvious but one would never come up with on one's own, especially if one is prone to being distracted by one's own humming.  I could go on but I'm tired now, had my third night of pizza and beer, no run in 4 days, and its a fact that I am on the cusp of just jabbering. 

Suffice it to say that I needed this and it was good. 

Now, tomorrow I return to work where I have successfully cornered myself into having one day to prepare a "high tech" presentation for a group of unknowns.  I hate this sort of thing but the man who asked me to do it is a really nice person who always gives me books and talks softly and nicely to me and never insinuates that I'm insane or sarcastic or lucky to have a job.   He's the head of our external affairs and should know better than to stick me in front of a group of his well-dressed 'constituants' ….but sometimes these nice people just believe Karma will see them through.  I am loathe to be part of his hard lessons learned process, but….we all have our role to play.  I think I'll dress like a taco or anatomically correct therapy bear. 

Patrick started today by saying that if he had to sum up what makes a great handler in one word it would be 'Observant'. 

I was hoping that he'd said 'A Servant' and I thought, not for the first time, of adopting a child with both viable organs and an affinity for dogs….but that's twice as many words and if I had to chose between a spare liver and a decent run at some future trial…well, it's a child, not a choice.  Way too much trouble for a small check and a figurine, or whatever; I'd take the liver.

Patrick described a great handler as someone who notices all the details and makes adjustments to his
run accordingly – little things like the movement of a sheep's ears
indicating a potential future effect and correcting for it.

"Be offensive, not defensive."

It's never been suggested that I should be wanting in the offensive area.  AND I am observant, though its usually that the details are absorbed and I don't reflect on them until later.  Sometimes much later.  This isn't helpful on the field or with dogs in general. Or my life.  I wish I had a servant to keep track of these things and to secrete bile.  Pass me little notes….

The other thing Patrick said today, and has said before, and I know I've written about it because it is really what I love about this stockdog work more than anything else— is that "training" your dog is really not about teaching your dog the technical details of what moves livestock so much as communication — between you and your dog.  Your dog was born knowing most of what is required.  You need to learn how to communicate with your dog.   

I'm not a good communicator in any traditional sense.  Some people who have met me recently really seem to be surprised by this…but trust me. I am not. It's actually almost clinical how shy and introverted I have been and can be.  I'm not at ease around most people. Most people I will just avoid.   Socially I really *fuck up* a lot.  The people I seem to communicate with are not your Dale Carnegie graduates.  It makes sense to me that, just as I can't (or won't) communicate with many people effectively, its likely that for all of us some dogs will be easier to achieve a good relationship with than others, and very few, if any, will be truly great.  One person's great dog might be another person's furtive little beast. 

Pat and I had a good day. We really need to work on our 'aim' … He listens though, and is easy to correct. It only takes once with him because he doesn't like to be wrong. Which is perfect because I JUST DON'T HAVE IT IN ME TO BE ANGRY OR TO SCREAM.  Not unless someone makes me watch back to back Battlestar Galatica because 'it's a great show' or I'm on fire. 

I love Pat. He's a sweet dog with a huge heart.   He's overly sensitive and old and Humps like someone you'd find skulking around the oversized book section of the public library with his fly unzipped.   

Patrick and Dianne exchange looks when I ask if they might breed him so I can have a puppy. 

"Tell Patrick how you've taught him to use the doggy door!" Dianne prompts, giving Patrick a look.

"And how you took him into the bathroom with you while you took a bath so he wouldn't have to go back in his crate!"

(Pat can't be trusted to run free in the house and I didn't want him to have to go back in his crate, after he'd just spent a few hours in it already.  He was confused and fascinated by a tub of water.  It was pretty funny, actually.  Uhhhh…fuck you. I mean that in the nicest way possible.)

Pat learned to use the stairs in GL so I wouldn't have to go in the basement alone.  He's laying on my feet right now, his big fat flat paws crossed.  He goes home tomorrow, after the clinic. I will miss him. I want a dog just like him someday.

So neither of us knows our flanks under pressure.   I think we could figure it out well enough. Until the child comes.

Today we worked on refining what we learned yesterday. 

Pat worked well for me.  He was pretty consistent in taking 'lie down'…often right away, but with a correction for sure.  Our biggest issue is still timing. Don feels that it is not my timing as much as the lag between my direction to Pat and his taking it. He thinks it will improve for both of us with practice and time together. One thing is certain: Pat works best with a good hump under his pelt, so to speak. 

Right before our first time out this morning, Pat sidled up to a young woman and did his lean-into-body-gaze-with-soulful-eyes routine. She fell for it, of course; we all do.  And as soon as she reached out, began petting him, telling him what a good and handsome boy he is…Pat latched on and rode her leg for at least 8 seconds. 

Then I called him off and we walked with Don out onto the field.  The outrun was nice, we made the panels and penned. 

Our second time out highlighted the issue with timing.  Don had me send Pat on an outrun and bring the sheep around me and then drive off toward the panels.  Don reminded me to use the draw to straighten the
drive/fetch. Lie the dog down and let the sheep correct themselves into the draw. The outrun, lift and fetch was great.  We did okay getting the sheep around me, but it was clumsy. Pat seemed to fall apart consistently on the away side. I don't know if that is usual for him, or whether it was all about this field and the location of the draw, his response to pressure; but he would cut in and loose his head and then I'd lose mine and yell the wrong command which he'd take.  Then we'd lose the sheep. Then I would utter extremely foul language not endorsed by the USBCHA, Don would fumble to turn the mic off on the radio, not in time, women would faint and I,finally, collapsed in tears, and a deep furrow; I cried like a baby, in a heap of my own leavings… and eventually, inevitably, I turned to drugs and prostitution.   During rehab I claimed to prefer goats or animals that climb things and don't stick together. I'm more of a cat person. Or dogs that wear jackets.

Not really. This paragraph was starting to bore even me.  I'm tired. Does this suck? I'll fix it tomorrow.

So, basically, I have a lot to work on with Pat.  Still, we did get our second pen.  I have to say, though: It was luck.  Really. It wasn't about me or Pat. It was just a little about me and Pat. Mostly, blind dithering luck.

One other thing I learned from this experience:

I love setout.  I know most people focus on trialing, and I'd like to trial, no doubt.  I could be happy shooting for being a decent setout person, though. I like the task.  Pat did a great job. I think the simple, close work made our efforts on the field together much better as well.