One thing I still keep hearing is 'Timing'…
The other thing is 'Focus'…
The third thing is….
…Focus and Timing: I know they go hand in hand, and I've never had either. Before the internet and cellphones, texting and remote control devices reduced everything to one click and multi-tasking, I moved through the physical world in half-sentences and halfass-tasking. Oddly, I can spend hours on a good book. I can spend SECONDS on a (casual) conversation. And usually I'm also thinking of something else, like ..Is My Shirt On Inside Out? Should I look or Will That Draw Attention to My Sloth? I'm Glad That Pants Only Go On One Way…Mostly…Although There Was That Time P*trick Had His Running Shorts On Inside Out….They Should Make Running Shorts Sandy On the Outside So That Good People DO NOT Make that Mistake….
Yes. So when you end your side of the conversation with a quizzical look at me and why I'm nodding when I should be shaking my head, or why I'm smiling instead of looking suitably appalled by that Horrible Thing you've just described…remember… I HAVE NO FOCUS. I should be forced to wear some sort of blurry identifying patch on my shirts.
And I have no Timing. Which is why sometimes I walk away to soon. Or don't stay long enough.
"You need to stay with your dog," both Helsleys told me this weekend, "He is trying really hard for you, but your timing is off and he is so uncertain about what you want, that it's making him slow and unsure. Stay with him and speed him up. Practice whistling and making him take his flanks. It will help your timing and him to know what you want from him….ALSO: Your FEET ARE NOT GLUED TO THAT SPOT."
I do forget to move around. In practice I tend to stand as if at a trial, at the post. Otherwise what is to stop me from DEVELOPING THAT HABIT? This 'moving around' the field 'with your dog' could be a gateway activity. It could be one accordian away from dancing at the post.
Jack is a really good dog. He is all about Me. If Jack had a wallet, it would have only my picture in it. Covered in sheep poo. He likes me THAT MUCH. When I go to work him, I can see him, in his head, going over his list of things he knows that I like and don't like and trying to do, or not do, all of them –
Walk Behind Her, chicks dig that.
Wait to roll in the steamy green shit AFTER I run, it shows her that I am not impulsive.
She likes me to BRING her the sheep FIRST and then TAKE them AWAY. I think this is called Foreplay. I have to keep the sheep from her, moving them almost parallel to where she is for awhile, then she'll ask for them back and we can do some things together.
She won't want me to end with biting one, though sometimes I SWEAR she is asking for it. It's always someone else who thanks me…
Jack is a sweet dog and he's the only dog I have for the next few months while Jai decides if she's pregnant or not, is pregnant and uses her maternity leave or is not pregnant and I finally confirm who is eating all my guest's snacks. (Sorry, again, Ann. Tip for the future: My Dogs DO NOT like carrots. None of them. Or Bell Pepper. Or things wrapped in razor wire.)
So, Jack and I are spending quality time together walking in lines and flanking and working on my timing. I'm also trying to improve my focus by limiting my one-click endeavors. More running, more meditating – less cellphone…less internet…
I've never meditated in my life, so 'more' should be easy. I know there's an ap…
Dutifully noted. Take carrots. Order gas station pizza, hold the bell pepper. Pack an extra bottle of peroxide and a big syringe.