Last Saturday evening, three days past his five-month birthday, Presto! was entered in his first fun match. I had him in two rings, Open and Utility. Novice can come later.
The rings I had him entered in and what we did when we got in there reflected how I've trained him so far. His training began the morning after we flew in from Chicago. He was eight weeks and one day old when he had his first lesson. His early training has focused on what I call "little fun things." Things where he can move around, run, be upbeat. The static stuff will come later.
We started doing little follow exercises. First with Presto! in front of me, following a treat held in both hands as I moved backward. Then little figure eights between and around my legs. Eventually he moved to my left side (not focused on heel position, just following the treat between the thumb and forefinger of my left hand). We went in straight lines and big circles left and right..
Those circles gradually diminished and now, three months into his training, they've become a loose figure eight. The little follows have become "heeling," and turns have been added.
So on Saturday evening -- on leash and with the treat still close to his nose -- Presto! did a little bit of heeling and a figure eight in the Open ring.
Next I had him twist and spin. Then we did what I call "laterals." I regard the laterals as one of the most important things we do, which is why we started them on day one when Presto! was a tiny puppy. I hold the treat in both hands, low in front of me, and sidestep a few steps to the left and to the right. Presto! moves laterally with me. I want him to (a) know he has a rear end and (b) develop good lateral movement on his back legs. So I've incorporated that exercise into his development from the very beginning. The result is his back end moves nicely and no part of his body lags as we move laterally.
Next I had the judge hold him about six feet out while I called him to front three times -- first straight in, then with my body (and feet) cocked first to the left and then to the right. He almost always straightens himself out when I'm cocked to the left (his right). He's still finding it a little more difficult to correct when my feet are cocked to my right (his left). In my competition obedience career, fronts have always been the bane of my existence. I'm hoping to nip that in the bud with Presto!
We ended our Open appearance with "Where's Presto!?" (a fun game I learned from Louise Meredith a long time ago). The judge holds Presto! while I run to the far end of the ring, lie on my stomach, grip a treat protruding from my mouth, call, "Where's Presto!?" and quickly bury my face in my arms. The judge releases the dog who runs to me, burrows under my arm and gets the treat. Presto! generally stays there long enough to get in a few good face licks.
Then we tugged out of the ring on the leash. Plenty of quiet praise and petting had taken place between the exercises.
We began Utility with another short burst of what now passes for heeling, this time off leash.
After a quick series of weaves around my legs, it was time for go-outs. Presto! has been doing go-outs to a target inside my PVC box (See my Aug. 22, 2011 post, The Many Uses of the PVC Box) since his ninth week. I kneel behind the sitting dog, my arms around his chest so he has to leap out to get going. Then,"Away!" He tears out toward the target. I say, "Get it!" Then immediately, "Presto! come!" He grabs the treat from the target, spins and races back to jump for the treat I'm holding up.
The box remained in the ring for what I call "box work." His sits, downs and stands have been taught (again from day one) in the PVC box, up front where the slightly raised bar discourages forward movement. I'd like to think we won't lose points for traveling during the signal exercise.
Again, we tugged out of the ring.
Presto!'s first venture into competition obedience rings went extremely well. Much better than I expected considering there were three rings going simultaneously in a smaller-than-desirable space. And the entry totalled 88. Amid all that commotion, Presto! was focused 95 percent of the time.
I guess the highlight of the evening for Presto! was all the attention he got outside the ring. Here's this ultra-friendly, cute-as-a-button, five-month-old border collie. You better believe Presto! got to lick a few faces last Saturday evening.
Now we're starting to teach some Novice stuff.
Wilard
Friday, September 28, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! The Socialization/Infection Puzzlement
"You're damned if you do and damned if you don't," said Mindy, a member of the Dog Daze Gang, our summer Sunday morning training group. Alice the veterinarian nodded agreement.
The conversation was about exposing young puppies to the world . . . and to infection.
The herding breeds, if not well socialized at a very young age, can go through life shy, timid, fearful. I know about that all too well. In the early 70s, while we still lived in Cincinnati, I bought a Sheltie puppy. From a reputable breeder. Back then the only thing I really knew about dogs was that I liked them. But we had a conscientious vet, and he told us how important it would be to get Ginger to lots of public places, around lots of people and dogs.
Lord knows we tried. We took her on walks, to parks, to neighbors' houses. But Ginger lived her life painfully shy and fearful. She preferred to spend her days behind a chair in a distant part of the house. I tied her to my desk while I was working there, hoping that steady presence would help her bond with me. In vain. For a while I got her to play ball in a carpeted hallway. But one night the tennis ball bounced off her nose and she never played ball again.
The doorbell would ring. Ginger would run to the door and bark. As soon as we opened the door she would run under the bed and poop there.
All that has been on my mind as I have wrestled with the issue of socializing Presto! versus protecting him from infection.
Presto! was seen by Dr. Chuck Toben, our veterinarian of nearly a quarter century, the afternoon after I brought him in from Chicago. Presto was eight weeks and one day old. As he has done with every puppy I've carried in there, Dr. Toben cautioned me not to take Presto! into city parks or other places frequented by dogs until he had received all of his shots.
I heartily agreed. The risk was more than I was willing to take. But I had a plan.
First of all, I knew that Presto! and his littermates had been exceptionally well socialized before they went to their forever homes. Those puppies had been handled, played with, cuddled and loved by a small army of students and friends of the Inman family (the Wildfire breeders). I wasn't done at the American Airlines ticket counter yet when I found out that Presto! loves everybody. While those in line behind us shuffled impatiently, Presto! met, licked and was cuddled by everyone working behind that counter. So I was confident about that phase of his socialization.
Here at home I sent out an email to select obedience friends and close neighbors -- people I knew would come from infection-free homes. Presto! would be receiving visitors, I announced, and they and their dogs were invited. Quite a few came and the visitation program went -- well, in at least one case, swimmingly.
The owner of Barbara's company, Encore Realty, came for lunch. Thank God Bob is only DNA short of being family. Bob picked Presto! up. The puppy was hysterically happy to see him . . . and dribbled down the front of Bob's shirt.
Two weeks later Bob had fun with the episode when he brought it up at a staff meeting. And on that morning, in an economy that is still sluggish, in that real estate office a rollicking good time was had by all. Courtesy of my little pheenom.
Originally I had planned to take Presto! to a fun match in Flagstaff right after he had his third shot at 16 weeks. But Chuck Toben, whose conservative approach has served us well across 24 years, 3 cats and 8 dogs, wanted to do one more inoculation before I turned Presto! loose in the competition obedience world.
OK. But I was concerned that there was a big hole in my latter-day socialization plan. Presto! had, in fact, been a social butterfly during the past few weeks. But all that schmoozing and roughhousing and dribbling had been done on his own turf (and on Bob's shirt).
So at 17 weeks we ventured out. Not to the public parks and places like PetSmart but to "safe" but well-trafficed destinations such as AJs (an upscale grocery five minutes from home), Starbucks and eventually The Home Depot.
How would Presto! respond when at 17 weeks he encountered a world he didn't even know existed? Our first -- and so far only! -- challenge came before we even got out of our own driveway. The American flag in the front yard across the street was flapping in the breeze. That spooked my little guy, and it took him about five minutes to get over it.
Outside AJs and Starbucks he met new friends who gave him a treat and petted him. Later we heeled and wound up our visit by tugging on the leash.
On our first visit to The Home Depot we just heeled around, met new friends and got acquainted with carts -- normal size and those big ones -- rolling toward the parking lot. Of course they had emerged from the big automatic doors that also didn't faze Presto! And the big diesel trucks leaving the lot a scant 20 feet from us? They evoked a two-second startle response, then curiosity.
By the second visit we were heeling in the busy, noisy area where contractors load their trucks shortly after dawn. A bit distracting, but not frightening. (I wish I could say that about the thunder that's been rolling through here during the monsoon season.)
The verdict: Flapping flags aside, this dog has no fear. On the 22nd of September he'll do two rings in a fun match. We'll see how that goes. So far, so good.
Willard
The conversation was about exposing young puppies to the world . . . and to infection.
The herding breeds, if not well socialized at a very young age, can go through life shy, timid, fearful. I know about that all too well. In the early 70s, while we still lived in Cincinnati, I bought a Sheltie puppy. From a reputable breeder. Back then the only thing I really knew about dogs was that I liked them. But we had a conscientious vet, and he told us how important it would be to get Ginger to lots of public places, around lots of people and dogs.
Lord knows we tried. We took her on walks, to parks, to neighbors' houses. But Ginger lived her life painfully shy and fearful. She preferred to spend her days behind a chair in a distant part of the house. I tied her to my desk while I was working there, hoping that steady presence would help her bond with me. In vain. For a while I got her to play ball in a carpeted hallway. But one night the tennis ball bounced off her nose and she never played ball again.
The doorbell would ring. Ginger would run to the door and bark. As soon as we opened the door she would run under the bed and poop there.
All that has been on my mind as I have wrestled with the issue of socializing Presto! versus protecting him from infection.
Presto! was seen by Dr. Chuck Toben, our veterinarian of nearly a quarter century, the afternoon after I brought him in from Chicago. Presto was eight weeks and one day old. As he has done with every puppy I've carried in there, Dr. Toben cautioned me not to take Presto! into city parks or other places frequented by dogs until he had received all of his shots.
I heartily agreed. The risk was more than I was willing to take. But I had a plan.
First of all, I knew that Presto! and his littermates had been exceptionally well socialized before they went to their forever homes. Those puppies had been handled, played with, cuddled and loved by a small army of students and friends of the Inman family (the Wildfire breeders). I wasn't done at the American Airlines ticket counter yet when I found out that Presto! loves everybody. While those in line behind us shuffled impatiently, Presto! met, licked and was cuddled by everyone working behind that counter. So I was confident about that phase of his socialization.
Here at home I sent out an email to select obedience friends and close neighbors -- people I knew would come from infection-free homes. Presto! would be receiving visitors, I announced, and they and their dogs were invited. Quite a few came and the visitation program went -- well, in at least one case, swimmingly.
The owner of Barbara's company, Encore Realty, came for lunch. Thank God Bob is only DNA short of being family. Bob picked Presto! up. The puppy was hysterically happy to see him . . . and dribbled down the front of Bob's shirt.
Two weeks later Bob had fun with the episode when he brought it up at a staff meeting. And on that morning, in an economy that is still sluggish, in that real estate office a rollicking good time was had by all. Courtesy of my little pheenom.
Originally I had planned to take Presto! to a fun match in Flagstaff right after he had his third shot at 16 weeks. But Chuck Toben, whose conservative approach has served us well across 24 years, 3 cats and 8 dogs, wanted to do one more inoculation before I turned Presto! loose in the competition obedience world.
OK. But I was concerned that there was a big hole in my latter-day socialization plan. Presto! had, in fact, been a social butterfly during the past few weeks. But all that schmoozing and roughhousing and dribbling had been done on his own turf (and on Bob's shirt).
So at 17 weeks we ventured out. Not to the public parks and places like PetSmart but to "safe" but well-trafficed destinations such as AJs (an upscale grocery five minutes from home), Starbucks and eventually The Home Depot.
How would Presto! respond when at 17 weeks he encountered a world he didn't even know existed? Our first -- and so far only! -- challenge came before we even got out of our own driveway. The American flag in the front yard across the street was flapping in the breeze. That spooked my little guy, and it took him about five minutes to get over it.
Outside AJs and Starbucks he met new friends who gave him a treat and petted him. Later we heeled and wound up our visit by tugging on the leash.
On our first visit to The Home Depot we just heeled around, met new friends and got acquainted with carts -- normal size and those big ones -- rolling toward the parking lot. Of course they had emerged from the big automatic doors that also didn't faze Presto! And the big diesel trucks leaving the lot a scant 20 feet from us? They evoked a two-second startle response, then curiosity.
By the second visit we were heeling in the busy, noisy area where contractors load their trucks shortly after dawn. A bit distracting, but not frightening. (I wish I could say that about the thunder that's been rolling through here during the monsoon season.)
The verdict: Flapping flags aside, this dog has no fear. On the 22nd of September he'll do two rings in a fun match. We'll see how that goes. So far, so good.
Willard
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! Box Work: The Turn & Sit
In my last installment on this subject I mentioned that from time to time I'm using a flexi as I send Presto! -- as if shot from a gun -- on his go-outs. The flexi, which he's been on every day as he goes about pottying in the backyard, doesn't seem to faze him. I really don't think he knows it's there.
I've gotten him flexi-comfortable because the flexi will be important in teaching the turn and sit. But not right in the beginning.
Initially I'll put the flexi aside and we'll go back to our original go-outs starting position, two feet in front of the closed end of the PVC box. With the treat on the target, I'll put my hand in his collar and walk him out to the target, just as I did when I was orienting him to where the target would be. As I go, I'll be repeating my send-away command, "Away! Away!" I won't run him out there, we'll walk. I don't want it to all be a blur; I want him to have time to think about what he's doing. Just short of the target I'll turn him and sit him. As I turn him, I'll say, "Presto! sit!" And I'll give him a treat from my hand. Very important: As I turn him and sit him -- or later when he turns and sits on his own -- he never gets the treat from the target. It must always come from your hand.
It's important that as I march Presto! out to the target/treat, then turn him and sit him, that I always say, the commands: "Away!" and then, "Presto! sit!" I want to be imbedding those commands in his mind, helping him associate those words with the physical responses they should trigger.
I'm expecting that in the beginning Presto! may be a little bit difficult to turn and sit. Of course the good news is that he's not a mastiff or a great Dane. I'll practice with my hand in his collar until he turns easily and plants. As I praise him and give him a treat each time he does it, it should come fairly quickly.
Once he's got it, every so often we'll do a go-out where I say, "Get it!" and he goes all the way out to the target, snarfs down the treat, then turns and runs back to me for another goodie. Note that in this method the dog never runs out, gets the treat, then turns and sits. I'm afraid that will result in searching behavior (sniffing around prior to sitting) and significant points lost.
Differentiation
Eventually -- many months out -- we'll reach the differentiation stage.. And that's the hard part.
Here's what I'm seeking in terms of a well-executed go-out. I want Presto! to run out there straight as an arrow (which is the part he's been practicing since he was nine weeks old). Then I want him to do a tight turn and sit. That's why we've been using the PVC box to teach turn and sits.
Swell. But I also want him to keep going until I tell him to turn and sit. He must not anticipate. Must not start thinking, Ah, I know what comes next; I'll turn and sit now. That's one of the major problems associated with the directed jumping exercise. Which is why Presto! and I will spend a year, maybe more, working on differentiation.
To begin that phase, we'll move in close to the box again, about five to seven feet in front of the raised bar. Presto! is on the flexi and will be for months. I'll send him, say, "Get it!" and let him get the treat and return to me. OR, I'll send him, say, "Presto! sit!" and pop him into a sit just short of the treat. Remember, he must not turn round and steal the treat off the target. Instead, I'll hustle out there, praise and reward him.
Now comes the part that works the magic (I hope). I'm going to mix it up, calling, "Get it!" and, "Sit" randomly so that Presto! never knows what I'm going to tell him to do. This is hard for him so he's listening with all the attention he can muster.
Slowly -- very slowly -- I'll increase the distance. That's good news; now I'll have more time to think and react. By this time, hundreds of hours into Presto!'s training, I'll know his every thought. When I send him away, I'll know what he's going to do, and I'll command the opposite. If his body language tells me he's going to turn and sit, I'll call, "Get it!" and send him on for the treat. And vice versa. Many months out I'll be able to practice this without the flexi . . . using gentle corrections if Presto! responds counter to my command.
Looking way ahead -- and we're talking many months here -- when Presto! is doing really well, it'll be time to begin removing the PVC box, one piece at a time. I already know Presto! is "right-handed." Meaning he always turns to the right when returning to me. So first I'll remove the bar on the left-hand side of the box (as I face it). It's no longer playing a significant role. Sometime later I'll take away the piece on the other side, the side he turns to, leaving only the front barrier. Eventually that goes too, leaving only the target and the treat. I'll eventually fade those.
There's more to teaching go-outs -- training for the occasional ring where there's no center pole, correcting crooked go-outs, reorienting the dog who suddenly begins taking the jump on the way out. But this series of posts is about the use of the PVC box, so I'll wait and write about those Excedrin headaches when Presto! and I encounter them. And we will.
Willard
I've gotten him flexi-comfortable because the flexi will be important in teaching the turn and sit. But not right in the beginning.
Initially I'll put the flexi aside and we'll go back to our original go-outs starting position, two feet in front of the closed end of the PVC box. With the treat on the target, I'll put my hand in his collar and walk him out to the target, just as I did when I was orienting him to where the target would be. As I go, I'll be repeating my send-away command, "Away! Away!" I won't run him out there, we'll walk. I don't want it to all be a blur; I want him to have time to think about what he's doing. Just short of the target I'll turn him and sit him. As I turn him, I'll say, "Presto! sit!" And I'll give him a treat from my hand. Very important: As I turn him and sit him -- or later when he turns and sits on his own -- he never gets the treat from the target. It must always come from your hand.
It's important that as I march Presto! out to the target/treat, then turn him and sit him, that I always say, the commands: "Away!" and then, "Presto! sit!" I want to be imbedding those commands in his mind, helping him associate those words with the physical responses they should trigger.
I'm expecting that in the beginning Presto! may be a little bit difficult to turn and sit. Of course the good news is that he's not a mastiff or a great Dane. I'll practice with my hand in his collar until he turns easily and plants. As I praise him and give him a treat each time he does it, it should come fairly quickly.
Once he's got it, every so often we'll do a go-out where I say, "Get it!" and he goes all the way out to the target, snarfs down the treat, then turns and runs back to me for another goodie. Note that in this method the dog never runs out, gets the treat, then turns and sits. I'm afraid that will result in searching behavior (sniffing around prior to sitting) and significant points lost.
Differentiation
Eventually -- many months out -- we'll reach the differentiation stage.. And that's the hard part.
Here's what I'm seeking in terms of a well-executed go-out. I want Presto! to run out there straight as an arrow (which is the part he's been practicing since he was nine weeks old). Then I want him to do a tight turn and sit. That's why we've been using the PVC box to teach turn and sits.
Swell. But I also want him to keep going until I tell him to turn and sit. He must not anticipate. Must not start thinking, Ah, I know what comes next; I'll turn and sit now. That's one of the major problems associated with the directed jumping exercise. Which is why Presto! and I will spend a year, maybe more, working on differentiation.
To begin that phase, we'll move in close to the box again, about five to seven feet in front of the raised bar. Presto! is on the flexi and will be for months. I'll send him, say, "Get it!" and let him get the treat and return to me. OR, I'll send him, say, "Presto! sit!" and pop him into a sit just short of the treat. Remember, he must not turn round and steal the treat off the target. Instead, I'll hustle out there, praise and reward him.
Now comes the part that works the magic (I hope). I'm going to mix it up, calling, "Get it!" and, "Sit" randomly so that Presto! never knows what I'm going to tell him to do. This is hard for him so he's listening with all the attention he can muster.
Slowly -- very slowly -- I'll increase the distance. That's good news; now I'll have more time to think and react. By this time, hundreds of hours into Presto!'s training, I'll know his every thought. When I send him away, I'll know what he's going to do, and I'll command the opposite. If his body language tells me he's going to turn and sit, I'll call, "Get it!" and send him on for the treat. And vice versa. Many months out I'll be able to practice this without the flexi . . . using gentle corrections if Presto! responds counter to my command.
Looking way ahead -- and we're talking many months here -- when Presto! is doing really well, it'll be time to begin removing the PVC box, one piece at a time. I already know Presto! is "right-handed." Meaning he always turns to the right when returning to me. So first I'll remove the bar on the left-hand side of the box (as I face it). It's no longer playing a significant role. Sometime later I'll take away the piece on the other side, the side he turns to, leaving only the front barrier. Eventually that goes too, leaving only the target and the treat. I'll eventually fade those.
There's more to teaching go-outs -- training for the occasional ring where there's no center pole, correcting crooked go-outs, reorienting the dog who suddenly begins taking the jump on the way out. But this series of posts is about the use of the PVC box, so I'll wait and write about those Excedrin headaches when Presto! and I encounter them. And we will.
Willard
Thursday, August 23, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! Box Work: Itty-Bitty Go-Outs
In last week's post, I discussed the use of the PVC box in teaching Presto! the down, the sit and the stand. I also use the box to teach the go-outs (send away) part of the directed jumping exercise.
Presto! has been practicing go-outs since he was in his tenth week. He has been doing little sits/downs/stands in the box almost since the day he joined our household, so he is comfortable in "his" box. He thinks it's a fun place to be; he gets to do hands-on things with me and he gets treats.
You have to understand that I'm 6'5" and Presto! was still a really little guy when we started this, so a lot of the handling I'll describe here was done on my knees.
I put a target dead center in the back of the box, inside the box. Presto!'s target was a white lid, three inches in diameter. (Actually a plastic lid that would fit an opened can of Hill's Science Diet dog food. I had elevated that lid to its highest and best use.) I put the lid on the ground, topside up. I want the treat to be perched on top of the lid, not down inside. In the beginning I had a white pole stuck in the ground a few inches behind the target, just outside the box. Shortly I'll begin putting a couple of baby gates out there from time to time, alternating with the pole. The stanchion supporting the baby gates will take the place of the pole. Right from day one I want my little guy to associate that visual cue with the word "straight."
Because Presto! was so young, he had not learned to sit and wait while I placed the treat on the target. (Believe me when I tell you that border collies are not born with the word "wait" as an intrinsic part of their vocabularies.) So I'm practicing go-outs when my wife Barbara is available to place the treat on the target. In the beginning she pointed to the treat to get Presto!'s attention focused. But by the second session he knew exactly what he was aiming for.
We started a couple of feet in front of the box. The target and the pole were at the far end. The closed end was toward us; I wanted Presto! to get comfortable jumping that raised bar on the way in. For orientation purposes I put my hand in Presto!'s collar and -- Oh, my achin' back! -- walked him out to the target a few times.
Then I started sending him on his own. I kneeled down behind him, both of us centered in front of the box. Presto! watched while Barbara placed the treat on the target. Then, holding him with my left arm around his chest, I extended my right arm straight out next to his face while saying, "Go-outs, Presto!, straight, straight." (I know, I know, it should be my left arm giving the line, but at this point it's easier to hold him with my left arm/hand. Otherwise I'm in a crossed-arms position. And I don't think it makes a bit of difference at this point.)
At this very early stage I don't care whether Presto! is sitting or not as we set up for a go-out. What I do care about, and what tells me a lot and makes me very happy, is that Presto! is straining to go. Hallelujah!
Then, in rapid succession, I say, "Away! (he tears out to the target), "Get it!" (he grabs the treat), "Presto! come!" (he comes blazing back and jumps for the treat I'm holding about 18 inches off the ground.)
All I want right now is for go-outs to become woven into the fabric of Presto!'s life. Later we won't have to work through the jarring transition that's necessary when a dog has been taught to stay close and look at you, then suddenly has to learn to run away from you, do it rapidly and go in a straight line.
For a long time we'll be doing only what I have described above -- mostly leash-free but occasionally on a flexi. And at slowly increasing distances. Right now Presto!'s itty-bitty go-outs are about 20 feet.
Presto! and I aren't even thinking about the turn and sit. But you and I will . . . in the next post.
Willard
Presto! has been practicing go-outs since he was in his tenth week. He has been doing little sits/downs/stands in the box almost since the day he joined our household, so he is comfortable in "his" box. He thinks it's a fun place to be; he gets to do hands-on things with me and he gets treats.
You have to understand that I'm 6'5" and Presto! was still a really little guy when we started this, so a lot of the handling I'll describe here was done on my knees.
I put a target dead center in the back of the box, inside the box. Presto!'s target was a white lid, three inches in diameter. (Actually a plastic lid that would fit an opened can of Hill's Science Diet dog food. I had elevated that lid to its highest and best use.) I put the lid on the ground, topside up. I want the treat to be perched on top of the lid, not down inside. In the beginning I had a white pole stuck in the ground a few inches behind the target, just outside the box. Shortly I'll begin putting a couple of baby gates out there from time to time, alternating with the pole. The stanchion supporting the baby gates will take the place of the pole. Right from day one I want my little guy to associate that visual cue with the word "straight."
Because Presto! was so young, he had not learned to sit and wait while I placed the treat on the target. (Believe me when I tell you that border collies are not born with the word "wait" as an intrinsic part of their vocabularies.) So I'm practicing go-outs when my wife Barbara is available to place the treat on the target. In the beginning she pointed to the treat to get Presto!'s attention focused. But by the second session he knew exactly what he was aiming for.
We started a couple of feet in front of the box. The target and the pole were at the far end. The closed end was toward us; I wanted Presto! to get comfortable jumping that raised bar on the way in. For orientation purposes I put my hand in Presto!'s collar and -- Oh, my achin' back! -- walked him out to the target a few times.
Then I started sending him on his own. I kneeled down behind him, both of us centered in front of the box. Presto! watched while Barbara placed the treat on the target. Then, holding him with my left arm around his chest, I extended my right arm straight out next to his face while saying, "Go-outs, Presto!, straight, straight." (I know, I know, it should be my left arm giving the line, but at this point it's easier to hold him with my left arm/hand. Otherwise I'm in a crossed-arms position. And I don't think it makes a bit of difference at this point.)
At this very early stage I don't care whether Presto! is sitting or not as we set up for a go-out. What I do care about, and what tells me a lot and makes me very happy, is that Presto! is straining to go. Hallelujah!
Then, in rapid succession, I say, "Away! (he tears out to the target), "Get it!" (he grabs the treat), "Presto! come!" (he comes blazing back and jumps for the treat I'm holding about 18 inches off the ground.)
All I want right now is for go-outs to become woven into the fabric of Presto!'s life. Later we won't have to work through the jarring transition that's necessary when a dog has been taught to stay close and look at you, then suddenly has to learn to run away from you, do it rapidly and go in a straight line.
For a long time we'll be doing only what I have described above -- mostly leash-free but occasionally on a flexi. And at slowly increasing distances. Right now Presto!'s itty-bitty go-outs are about 20 feet.
Presto! and I aren't even thinking about the turn and sit. But you and I will . . . in the next post.
Willard
Thursday, August 16, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! Box Work: Sit/Down/Stand
Sometimes I think there should be background music while the Utility class is in session . . . a little traveling music.
Entering the cardiac arrest phase of the signal exercise, Hortense stands Fluffy and heads toward the other end of the ring. Fluffy creeps forward while Hortense's back is turned.
Hortense gives the drop signal. In the process of going down (assuming, of course, that she doesn't go into a sit and blow the whole thing) Fluffy moves two steps closer to Hortense.
Now the sit. Fluffy's conversion from the down to the sit involves moving everything forward. By the time Hortense gets ready to signal Fluffy to come, Fluffy is probably two or three points closer to the other end of the ring than she was when Hortense left her on a stand.
A few minutes later it's time for the directed jumping exercise. Fluffy goes flying out there, executes a turn that doubles as a tour of the far end of the ring, walks about three steps forward and sits. Then repeats the whole performance on the second go-out.
All of which explains why I teach the sit, the down, the stand and the go-outs in a PVC box. And why Presto! began his "box work" when he was nine weeks old.
See my post of August 22, 2011, "The Many Uses of the PVC Box," for more on how the box is constructed and used. Note that the box should be only slightly wider than the dog. But that only matters when teaching a tight turn and sit. In the photo that accompanies this post -- taken several weeks ago when Presto! was slightly more than nine weeks old -- he's working in a much larger box, one I had from earlier dogs. By the time we incorporate the turn and sit, many months hence, he will have grown to fit the box.
The first step was to teach Presto! to love his box. That took one brief session. I put the box on the ground, said, "Get in your box," lured him into it with a treat, said, "Good box!" and gave him the treat. Pretty soon, whenever the box hit the ground he ran into it, looked at me, expected and received his treat. Now, several weeks later, I say, "Should we do box work?" and he runs to where the box is leaning against the wall on the back porch. Everything about him says, "Hurry up!"
Unquestionably my strongest motivation for starting box work almost as soon as I got the puppy was to teach the "concertina" (foldback) down at the dawn of his experience. Let a dog get into the habit of going through a sit enroute to his down and you're flirting with multiple NQ's when Rover gets to the sit, stops there and thinks he's completed the exercise.
All the sit/stand/down execises are taught at the closed end of the box, up close to the raised bar. (The one in the picture is raised 3.4 inches.) That bar effectively inhibits Presto! from traveling forward as we practice these exercises. So he has never even thought of creeping forward on any of these position changes.
At a very early age he's forming habits I'm confident will reduce unnecessary loss of points during his competition obedience career. And he loves it.
Let's leave discussion of box work's role in teaching go-outs until my next post, "Box Work: Go-Outs."
Willard
Entering the cardiac arrest phase of the signal exercise, Hortense stands Fluffy and heads toward the other end of the ring. Fluffy creeps forward while Hortense's back is turned.
Hortense gives the drop signal. In the process of going down (assuming, of course, that she doesn't go into a sit and blow the whole thing) Fluffy moves two steps closer to Hortense.
Now the sit. Fluffy's conversion from the down to the sit involves moving everything forward. By the time Hortense gets ready to signal Fluffy to come, Fluffy is probably two or three points closer to the other end of the ring than she was when Hortense left her on a stand.
A few minutes later it's time for the directed jumping exercise. Fluffy goes flying out there, executes a turn that doubles as a tour of the far end of the ring, walks about three steps forward and sits. Then repeats the whole performance on the second go-out.
All of which explains why I teach the sit, the down, the stand and the go-outs in a PVC box. And why Presto! began his "box work" when he was nine weeks old.
The first step was to teach Presto! to love his box. That took one brief session. I put the box on the ground, said, "Get in your box," lured him into it with a treat, said, "Good box!" and gave him the treat. Pretty soon, whenever the box hit the ground he ran into it, looked at me, expected and received his treat. Now, several weeks later, I say, "Should we do box work?" and he runs to where the box is leaning against the wall on the back porch. Everything about him says, "Hurry up!"
Unquestionably my strongest motivation for starting box work almost as soon as I got the puppy was to teach the "concertina" (foldback) down at the dawn of his experience. Let a dog get into the habit of going through a sit enroute to his down and you're flirting with multiple NQ's when Rover gets to the sit, stops there and thinks he's completed the exercise.
All the sit/stand/down execises are taught at the closed end of the box, up close to the raised bar. (The one in the picture is raised 3.4 inches.) That bar effectively inhibits Presto! from traveling forward as we practice these exercises. So he has never even thought of creeping forward on any of these position changes.
At a very early age he's forming habits I'm confident will reduce unnecessary loss of points during his competition obedience career. And he loves it.
Let's leave discussion of box work's role in teaching go-outs until my next post, "Box Work: Go-Outs."
Willard
Thursday, August 9, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! Want-To
Presto! hadn't been in his new home nine hours before he had his first little lesson. Right now, at 14 weeks, he enjoys three five-minute lessons a day. We're rotating through 25 little "exercises."
Fundamental to everything I'm doing with him are these two absolutes:
Everything we do must be fun. My first instructor, Debby Boehm -- the person who took me from bumbling neophyte to (bumbling) OTCH handler -- told her students, "If first you get want-to, all else will follow."
Think about it. In your lifetime, what's been easier to learn, something you loved doing or something you hated but had to master?
When I say, "Should we go practice?" Presto! can't contain himself. Each training session consists of five or six exercises. He can't wait to get into position to begin each exercise. Between exercises, he sticks to me like glue, head up, eyes riveted on me: "What're we gonna do next?" And the learning curve has gone right through the roof.
I train exclusively on a buckle collar. Presto! will never see a prong collar. And God knows he'll never see an electric collar. Both are the tools of weakness. Would I change my mind if I had a Rottweiler? Absolutely not! It's about want-to, not about , "By God, you have to!"
Everything we do is laying the foundation for the exercises that will be so important later. The
first thing Presto! ever did here, training-wise, was little follow exercises. Those were preliminary, preparatory, precursors to preludes and preambles to heeling. In other words, he didn't know he was starting to learn to heel; he only knew he was having a blast (for a grand total of 30 seconds). He's still having a blast, but now, at 14 weeks, he quickly pops into position when it's time to heel. He does a nice tight about turn. (I didn't teach that, it just happened one day.) And when I halt he sits at my side.
Oh, and all this is off leash. We won't have any heartburn later about taking the leash off -- he's been off leash since he was eight weeks old. However, recently I've disciplined myself to put the leash on about a third of the time. We're going to need that in Novice.
There's all this talk (quite valid) about the difficulty in teaching go-outs. "We've put so much effort into teaching the dog to be at our side, to be focused on us," we say, "then suddenly we want him to run away from us, and in a straight line to boot. That's so hard for the dog!"
Presto started doing little go-outs when he was nine weeks old. He gets to run out to a target, get a treat, then run back and jump for another treat. He loves it. He'll grow up never knowing about the difficult transition.
More about go-outs and sits and stands and downs, all of which I teach in a PVC box, in my next post, entitled "Box Work."
Willard
Fundamental to everything I'm doing with him are these two absolutes:
Everything we do must be fun. My first instructor, Debby Boehm -- the person who took me from bumbling neophyte to (bumbling) OTCH handler -- told her students, "If first you get want-to, all else will follow."
Think about it. In your lifetime, what's been easier to learn, something you loved doing or something you hated but had to master?
When I say, "Should we go practice?" Presto! can't contain himself. Each training session consists of five or six exercises. He can't wait to get into position to begin each exercise. Between exercises, he sticks to me like glue, head up, eyes riveted on me: "What're we gonna do next?" And the learning curve has gone right through the roof.
I train exclusively on a buckle collar. Presto! will never see a prong collar. And God knows he'll never see an electric collar. Both are the tools of weakness. Would I change my mind if I had a Rottweiler? Absolutely not! It's about want-to, not about , "By God, you have to!"
Everything we do is laying the foundation for the exercises that will be so important later. The
first thing Presto! ever did here, training-wise, was little follow exercises. Those were preliminary, preparatory, precursors to preludes and preambles to heeling. In other words, he didn't know he was starting to learn to heel; he only knew he was having a blast (for a grand total of 30 seconds). He's still having a blast, but now, at 14 weeks, he quickly pops into position when it's time to heel. He does a nice tight about turn. (I didn't teach that, it just happened one day.) And when I halt he sits at my side.
Oh, and all this is off leash. We won't have any heartburn later about taking the leash off -- he's been off leash since he was eight weeks old. However, recently I've disciplined myself to put the leash on about a third of the time. We're going to need that in Novice.
There's all this talk (quite valid) about the difficulty in teaching go-outs. "We've put so much effort into teaching the dog to be at our side, to be focused on us," we say, "then suddenly we want him to run away from us, and in a straight line to boot. That's so hard for the dog!"
Presto started doing little go-outs when he was nine weeks old. He gets to run out to a target, get a treat, then run back and jump for another treat. He loves it. He'll grow up never knowing about the difficult transition.
More about go-outs and sits and stands and downs, all of which I teach in a PVC box, in my next post, entitled "Box Work."
Willard
Friday, July 27, 2012
BRINGING UP PRESTO! Catch-22
"You're damned if you do and damned if you don't," said Mindy Masch. It was during our Dog Daze training group several weeks ago. We get together at the crack of dawn on summer Sunday mornings. We know a shady park, and that's where we train.
Mindy was commenting on the absence of my nine-week-old border collie puppy, Presto! There was no way I was going to bring the little guy out to a city park and put him down on the ground.
That's the dilemma -- the Catch-22 -- we face with our young obedience-ring-bound puppies. We weigh the benefits to be derived from being in a competition obedience environment -- the ring, the handlers, a surrogate judge, the other dogs -- versus the threat of possible infection lurking there.
You hear a lot about parvo around here, particularly in the spring and fall. "It's so easy to transmit infection," says Chuck Toben, our vet for nearly a quarter of a century. "A parvo-infected dog can shed and another dog can pick up the disease from the hair that falls to the ground."
Fortunately, Presto!'s litter was super-socialized. Mike and Maureen Inman -- the people who are Wildfire -- saw to that. Maureen teaches competition obedience, and her students would pop in and play with the puppies. Mike told me he was staying home on his vacation to take care of (read play with) the puppies. Jessica, their nine-year-old daughter, had a steady stream of friends coming in and out. A couple of weeks before I picked up Presto! in Chicago Jessica hosted a sleepover. It's safe to say the puppies were the featured attraction.
Nevertheless, I didn't want Presto!'s socialization to end when he became part of our household.
Twice, Barbara has brought him to Dog Daze for cameo appearances lasting about 30 minutes. He has never touched the ground. When he wasn't in someone's arms, licking faces and being oohed and aahed over, he was in a crate which in turn was sitting on a thick rug.
And I've been inviting people -- friends and neighbors that I know come from infection-free environments -- to come to our house, meet Presto! and play with him. One brought her six-month-old (dog friendly) border collie puppy. We turned them loose in the backyard and for a few minutes it was gangbusters. Given that it was a 107-degree Sunday afternoon, we had to shut that little circus down after about five minutes. Which was okay: a tired border collie is a good border collie.
Presto! will get his third immunization shot on August 20. The following Sunday there's a match in Flagstaff. That'll be his coming out party. Not that he'll be going into the ring But he'll be fully present in a simulated trial environment for the first time. He'll walk around, visit, get petted. And he'll practice, outside the ring, a series of little puppy exercises that up until that time had been confined to the backyard.
At which point our Catch-22 will be history and it'll be time to run with the Big Dogs.
Willard
Mindy was commenting on the absence of my nine-week-old border collie puppy, Presto! There was no way I was going to bring the little guy out to a city park and put him down on the ground.
That's the dilemma -- the Catch-22 -- we face with our young obedience-ring-bound puppies. We weigh the benefits to be derived from being in a competition obedience environment -- the ring, the handlers, a surrogate judge, the other dogs -- versus the threat of possible infection lurking there.
You hear a lot about parvo around here, particularly in the spring and fall. "It's so easy to transmit infection," says Chuck Toben, our vet for nearly a quarter of a century. "A parvo-infected dog can shed and another dog can pick up the disease from the hair that falls to the ground."
Fortunately, Presto!'s litter was super-socialized. Mike and Maureen Inman -- the people who are Wildfire -- saw to that. Maureen teaches competition obedience, and her students would pop in and play with the puppies. Mike told me he was staying home on his vacation to take care of (read play with) the puppies. Jessica, their nine-year-old daughter, had a steady stream of friends coming in and out. A couple of weeks before I picked up Presto! in Chicago Jessica hosted a sleepover. It's safe to say the puppies were the featured attraction.
Nevertheless, I didn't want Presto!'s socialization to end when he became part of our household.
Twice, Barbara has brought him to Dog Daze for cameo appearances lasting about 30 minutes. He has never touched the ground. When he wasn't in someone's arms, licking faces and being oohed and aahed over, he was in a crate which in turn was sitting on a thick rug.
And I've been inviting people -- friends and neighbors that I know come from infection-free environments -- to come to our house, meet Presto! and play with him. One brought her six-month-old (dog friendly) border collie puppy. We turned them loose in the backyard and for a few minutes it was gangbusters. Given that it was a 107-degree Sunday afternoon, we had to shut that little circus down after about five minutes. Which was okay: a tired border collie is a good border collie.
Presto! will get his third immunization shot on August 20. The following Sunday there's a match in Flagstaff. That'll be his coming out party. Not that he'll be going into the ring But he'll be fully present in a simulated trial environment for the first time. He'll walk around, visit, get petted. And he'll practice, outside the ring, a series of little puppy exercises that up until that time had been confined to the backyard.
At which point our Catch-22 will be history and it'll be time to run with the Big Dogs.
Willard
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)