We had a great Easter weekend living at the DD Estate; working dogs with Susan, Jody R., and Kelsey, an easter beer hunt; learning to be more like Peg, who with a simple turn of her tri-colored head can wither a dog's spleen, reheat your morning coffee. Change the mood of an entire kennel. 

I want that knack.  Peg doesn't even growl or lift a lip to reveal teeth. She just turns her head and dogs fall away as if she were a nice fragrant bath or an invitation to an anal probe.

Occasionally she will scrap with a dog who gets in her way outside; blocks her view of the sheep or the horse…gets too close.  She's fair, but she is fearsome. 

I always wonder what Human Peg would be like.  A middle-aged lady– actually, a well-preserved 62, she lies and says 42, though, which is almost believable in a really hard-lived tragic way…that at some point involved fire and a lot of crying (HINT: Not her crying) and a really bad boob job… She 'rinses' her hair to keep out the gray,  probably divorced from some asshole who left her with 3 kids, all named 'Scott'.  She would wear the same 3 outfits from the 60's, proud that she can still fit into the dresses that she wore in reform school, or stole from JC Penny's before there were cameras… she has a sweet voice.  She peppers her engaging dialog, sitting at a bar stool, in the only bar that still allows smoking, even though she does not…with extremely foul language,

"Did you get to see your grandkids this weekend, honey?" she would ask another tavern regular…

"No, Peg.  Their mother took them to Disneyland, which Lisa says is just like visiting me only with rides and fun and without the vomit and blackouts."

"That bitch needs to be fisted by Satan, sweetie, and she will be, in the mother fucking afterlife.  Praise him!"

Peg would always insist on both barstools next to her remaining empty, unless she deemed otherwise, which she never does.  She still works a job, though they put her at a desk because too many 'accidents' were happening on the floor with the ratchet machine. Too many young girls and smartasses loosing fingers on Peg's shift.

Or maybe she'd be just like everyone's favorite aunt who liked kids in 15 minute increments and who was prettier than all the other aunts, except first thing in the morning.  Before her irish coffee and 2 hours in the bathroom.

***

Anyway! We worked dogs around obstacles that included beer yesterday and it was really fun, for one thing, but ultimately the aimless relaxed marching/driving/fetching/flanking of Jai and sheep around the field loosened her up and me in a way that proved beneficial to both. 

It is exactly what Dianne was having us work on LAST weekend, except with my shift in expectations, and focus– that it was, as it should be about Fun and not My Ruining Something…we were both more relaxed.

No harsh corrections, we worked together to find my beer, even if it included the loathed 'come by'…and it did.  Jai would still attempt to opt out now and then, but a gentle 'No…' seemed to convince her. 

In other news – – – Pat comes back. TODAY! I'm so excited that my humping leg is twitching…I will go over to Greenleaf soon and dust off his plush toys.  Buy more chicken. PAT! 

This weekend Jai and I worked on loosening up her eye and flanking.
Jai would say that she worked at maintaining her quiet canadian politeness in the face of profound rudeness and frankly bad whistling.  But that my pants definitely do NOT make my ass look big. 

And she practiced perfecting her Away, which is her very favorite flank.

When I whistle, or shriek,

'Come Bye!' 

"COME BYE"

"FOR THE LOVE OF WORKING BRED JESUS, WILL YOU APPLY YOUR BLACK ASS CLOCKWISE TO THOSE SHEEP, YOU CAN HEAR ME! I SEE YOU WAGGING!"

(The last is a Come Bye whistle, with a tail, and a frantic claw on the end…like sobbing and screaming 'Fuck' through a tiny brass device)

She will do anything to avoid the Come Bye. BUT she is ALWAYS polite about it.

(She does.  She wags.  When you tell her to do something that she doesn't want to do, she looks at you and wags,

Like, "Thanks for that suggestion! That might be really good for another dog to try for you sometime…maybe that aussie you have….or a pretend dog… But I'm just going to stick with my plan…"

Then she takes her preferred flank.)

DD has orange cones set up in her small pasture.  The directive was No Straight Lines.  To drive our dogs around and through cones flanking constantly to loosen eye and tighten listening,

"Even my most solid dog, Fame, blew a gasket on this one the first time," she said, "He left the field."

The dogs get used to driving straight lines to and through obstacles.  They think they understand what is expected, anticipate what is required, and work almost by rote, half listening, half anticipating.

This constant flanking and random manuevering is initially stressful because it changes the game and it becomes about listening and reacting. 

I think Jai was humming the entire first run.  The canadian national anthem.

"Don't get harsh on your corrections," DD advised, "Just flank, correct, and make her take the flank, use your body if you have to physically pressure her into it. Stay close enough to her to reinforce your commands.  But don't let emotion enter into it.  Encourage her when she's right."

All good suggestions.  Jai cannot stand harsh corrections.  She wags more, gets wider and evenually will lay down and look away, as if in contemplation of Canada…and maybe going North and getting a job in the goose fields.  All that honking cannot be worse than the noise coming from the Beloved Loud American Petting Machine and her whistle.

The second run went better.  She still hates the Come Bye, which almost always puts her in a pressure situation.  She is very passive aggressive in her desire to avoid it.  But I'm a bitch and I have time.

This might seem like a good exercise in flanking and listening, but it's also a great exercise in paying attention and being calm.  Two things I'm not good at. DD tells me this stuff all the time and I wag and think about other things. 

I plan to practice alot in her field next weekend while housesitting.