Champion of My HeartA real-time memoir about life with a fearful border collie, by Roxanne Hawn

If Top 2 Signs of Border Collie Cabin Fever rang true, then clearly I should have called this The Number One Sign Your Border Collie Needs Sheep.

Lilly had a nice breakthrough moment when she hopped out of the car and immediately seemed calm in her Relaxation Protocol mode. She sat. I fed her treats. She seemed completely balanced with the first piece of food. Sometimes, we go through a bit of a Shark Phase, but not that day. She hopped out with a calm, confidence I was thrilled to see.

We arrived early and walked around a bunch, but as classmates began to arrive, we took up a position on a grassy median, with plenty of distance from the youngsters. (I fell instantly in love with the young GSP in class. What a handsome boy he is.)

Here you can see a happy Lilly waiting for classmates to complete an agility-dog-walk-like exercise on a raised ledge. We typically go first or last so that Lilly feels less pressure from the group.

We probably didn’t need quite this much space from our classmates, toward the end of the session, but Lilly is clearly content to hang out.

As usual, we walked until we could see the Continental Divide. You’ll notice in the lower right corner a dog house that sits on the road. It’s covered in stuffed animals. I suppose it’s meant as some kind of landmark — like “turn at the dog house.” But, it always makes us giggle.

Along the way we also spotted a discarded toy (dog’s or child’s, we do not know), but Lilly was VERY interested in it, so I let her sniff away.

We also spotted some neat clouds that made us happy, except after I shot this, I was looking down to zip the camera into my coat pocket and tripped over Lilly, giving her a little scare. (As you can see, weather in the 40s-50s has melted most of the snow from last week.)

After an hour in the sun, despite a bit of wind, we were feeling pretty good. Even though Lilly’s ears are back a bit, this is a happy girl.

We tucked this quiet time into our hearts and made our way home, where a lesson of some sort or just crappy-ass timing collided with our newly minted mellow. Suffice it to say news via voicemail upon our return harshed whatever calm we’d mustered — yet another family medical emergency. I’m too tired to even talk about it.

(1) The unraveled Toss a Possum … and (2) the Oh-Man-We’re-Outside Hop and Hug.

(This video was shot in our parking area, which had been cleared somewhat.)

We got desperate after a couple days and began playing mad games of Frisbee in the house at night. I toss to Lilly. She gives the toy to Tom. He tosses to me, while I try to keep Ginko at bay by playing a side game of short-range fetch with his favorite ball. (Otherwise, he gets in the game and robs Lilly of her toy.) It’s a loud, injury-prone adventure, but we had to do something because she was going nutso on us.

In response to Friday’s Training Update, Sam from over at MargeBlog asked:
BTW, I know Lilly is too scared still to even do private agilitylessons. Why is that? If there are no other dogs around, is she anxiousthat they might appear? Or is she stressed by having someone watch her?Does she exhibit any of the same signs at home if you were to have herplay around on the equipment if someone was watching? I have beenthinking about this and meant to ask you.

The simplest answer is that so much went so wrong in Lilly’s agility training that she immediately shuts down, and I mean full-on shuts down, any time she sees agility equipment anywhere other than at home. Our dog trainer, Gigi Moss, went with me to the agility field where we were took private and group lessons as well as did our own individual, drop-in training toward the end of our formal agility work. As soon as she saw the depth of Lilly’s fear reaction, she advised me to pull Lilly and keep her far from this setting for a while. That was about two years ago.

If you missed it way back, here is what Lilly “told” an animal communicator about agility and rally training.

For a while after we gave up classes of any kind, Lilly did OK for drop-in work, as long as we waited for all the dogs to leave. Once we were alone, she raced around like crazy. But, even that changed sometime in May 2007, when it got so bad that the place needed to be empty from the time we arrived to the time we left, otherwise it was a wash. And, it got really old driving an hour each way, only to have Lilly flip out and refuse to budge. I could afford drop-in fees, but not what it would cost to reserve the whole course just for us at a specific time each week.

And, if I’m being honest, it was a place where EVERYONE competes at a high level and few had much patience or sympathy for a newbie with a fearful dog (Elayne at Days of Speed excluded, of course). Many of those dogs had issues of their own, which I’m sure Lilly knew too.

Via the clarity of hindsight, I will say that it was more than worry about other dogs. It was more than the agility equipment itself, especially the much-feared teeter. It was such a complicated and mixed-up mess of experiences and associations, sites and sounds, that unraveling it felt impossible.

So, we quit going. Period.

Since home is the only place where Lilly has ever truly run agility without worry (most of the time) we experimented with various “audiences.” Lilly typically will run her home course, if people watch. Sometimes, she is a little slow, but she will run. Lilly can also do agility with mules, horses, goats, and cattle watching … at close range. Her home course backs up to a big ranch, and she indeed has done agility with very large animals mere feet away. So, I once mused that her animal fears were species specific.

As we began having Lilly’s few dog friends over to the house to help with our training, we learned that even here she will not do agility with other dogs (even ones she likes and trusts) watching or anywhere nearby. This includes our big boy Ginko, Lulu’s big brother Pitsch, and even Katie, Lilly’s former best, best friend the borzoi.

Now, we do have video of Lilly doing an agility-like task with Katie right there, so there is some hope. But, keep in mind that Lilly and Katie had a VERY special bond.

And, there was once last spring when I got Lilly, Katie, and even GINKO to do a series of jumps together out back, but we were mostly screwing around and not really training.

For a while, after we quit training in agility, I would still take Lilly to outdoor trials just to sit off to the side and watch, far from the equipment and dogs so that she could get cued into the trail environment, but we pretty much gave that up too because I realized that I was trying to do too much and needed to take about a million steps back.

If and when we return to private agility training , it will be at a new location, with a new trainer (a friend of Gigi’s), in an environment where competition isn’t as important or touted. I’m guessing that will be sometime in spring 2010, unless the weather is amazing this winter and we make faster progress on other work that our behaviorist wants me to complete before we re-introduce an agility training center.

Really, I just want to be able to run full courses with Lilly so that she can gain experience and confidence and so that I can learn to be a better handler so that I’m not a complete wreck when/if I have another agility dog in the future.

Yep. My darling, tiny girl is a few pounds up. During the peak of her agility training as a young adult, Lilly hovered around 33-34 pounds, which is a tad thin. Typically, I keep her around 35-36 pounds. These days, she’s around 39 pounds.

That’s the same weight she was when we started agility training with Joy Bishop (who has been on the world team). And, as I mentioned long ago, Joy’s first words to me at our private assessment were not “Hello” or “Nice to meet you.” She looked at me and Lilly and simply said, “You need to take 3-4 pounds off your dog.”

I must have made a face because she dropped her sunglasses a smidge, glanced at me over the rims, and said, “This isn’t conformation.”

So, there you have it. At 39 pounds, Lilly would do great in the conformation (or show dog) ring. But, for agility, that’s a tad heavy.

Even though, we’re not competing or dealing with the rigors of daily (or weekly) agility runs, I prefer to keep my girlie-girl on the lean side. I attempt to do that same for myself, with less success.

Lilly has always eaten smaller-than-normal meals since so much of her daily calorie intake gets used up in training and calming exercises, but I’ve had to trim them back even more and be more conscious about the snacks I give her.

I didn’t realize how many calories Lilly burned in her regular play dates with Katie. Chasing that fast, fast girl, really put Lilly to the test, so beyond the loss of friendship, I’m sad at the effect it’s had on Lilly’s waistline.

There is also a good chance that some of this is our boys’ fault. Ever since we moved to dogs back into the basement, following all the hullabaloo down there, Ginko has been waking us up way early. Tom (the saint he is) gets up more often than not to feed and potty the dogs so that I can sleep. And, I’ve seen what meal portions he thinks are just right, and they are MUCH bigger than what I feed either dog.

So, for a while, I need to step up my Mealtime Mommy oversight and make a concerted effort at enough dog exercise. Make that ditto for me, and soon I’ll be able to report that both of us are back to our ideal bods.

Apes, on the other hand, have been shown in other studies to know cooperator from deceiver and even to deceive others themselves.

Lilly clearly understands “other” or “stranger,” as in “You are so NOT the mama.” She has certainly learned that these others can be OK, if they approach with the right context and demeanor. We know from keep away and hide and seek that Lilly shows a certain frustration if we try and “trick” her. For example, Tom will often wait for Lilly to run upstairs looking for him, then he’ll pop out of his hiding spot and just sit on the couch, where Lilly will surely see him when she comes back downstairs. She barks, jumps, and makes funny noises that we interpret as her saying, “You were NOT there a second ago!”

But, she seems to think our jokes or tricks on her make the game more fun. They do not (thank goodness) make her distrust us.

I like to think that Lilly would correctly interpret someone with ill intent. Perhaps simply being untruthful about food isn’t enough to trigger a dog’s sense of good person/bad person.

After spending eight solid hours home alone last Monday, while I dealt with my mom’s latest face-first fall, Lilly stuck to me like glue when I got home. There weren’t any overt signs she had a rough day. I found no potty accidents, torn-up toys, ruined pillows, or messed up furnishings. But, Lilly clearly needed a long, heavy dose of Mommy Loving. So, I let the pups sleep with me that night, and I think that Lilly would have crawled inside my PJs with me, if she could have.

By contrast, I spent all day Tuesday home working and when it came time to snuggle at the end of the day, Lilly wanted none of it.

Both of us were gone again Friday afternoon into late evening for yet another funeral. (If you’re keeping score, that’s two in the family in recent weeks. I’m sad to report the death of my sister-in-law’s mom, just 10 days after her diagnosis with a rare brain disease.)

Because the memorial and reception spanned the afternoon and evening, Lilly was alone from light to dark, which we’ve known for a while is harder for her to handle. She is MUCH more likely to have a piddle accident in the house when we are gone after dark. I’m not sure if it’s just her biological timing or if it truly is a touch of separation anxiety, but we tend NOT to let her have full run of the house if we’re going to be gone after sunset.

SO, again, Lilly got to enjoy a cuddlefest when we got home Friday night to help her recover from the worry.

I have high hopes that this will actually be the first “regular” week we’ve had around here since late July. BUT, I’ve been saying that for over a month now, and it hasn’t happened yet.

Despite a few worries, I’m in awe of how well the dogs adjust to changes in my schedule, emotional state and routines. I wish some of their coping mechanisms would rub off. Other than a steady consumption of chocolate, I fear my usual strategies are wearing thin.

Whereas animal behaviorists believe about 10% of dogs have a genetic predisposition to be fearful, those who first studied human babies found that 20% fell into the “high-reactive” category. So, if anyone ever says that dogs are more neurotic than people, don’t believe them.

The following paragraph in Robin Marantz Henig’s article tells me that animal behavior science outpaces human development science.

How so? Keep reading.

“Attempts to see what kind of parenting works best with an anxiety-prone temperament leave almost as many questions asked as answered. Which is better for a fearful, high-strung child — a parent who CODDLES the child and says everything will be alright, or a parent who sets firm, strict limits and has no tolerance for skitishness? You could picture it as going either way, really. On one hand, it might be good to shield children from the things that worry them. On the other hand, it might be better to urge them, maybe even FORCE them, to confront the things they dread.” (emphasis mine)

Fellow dog people, are you laughing?

I practically had to sit on my hands to avoid being Horshack (for those old enough to remember). Ooh, ooh! I know the answer!

Yet, studies on the human side have delivered mixed results. Researchers really need to look at the dog data that proves what works and what doesn’t.

Force is never the answer with people OR dogs with this sensitive predisposition. And, while I quibble over the term “coddle” since it’s often used in a derogatory manner, I stand with both feet and all the conviction I can muster in the camp that says we can COMFORT, PROTECT, and TEACH fearful beings at the same time.

Off-Leash Work
On a particularly warm and traffic-free day last week, I unclipped Lilly on our usual walk, and she did a spectacular job for two of the three miles we typically walk. The half-mile closest to home is much more likely to include cars driving too fast (we have no sidewalks) and/or loose or barking dogs, so I won’t test her that much in tough situations.

BUT, on a rural road with only the birds (and wind) as company, Lilly does a lovely job staying right with me (not necessarily at heel). She even resisted the invitation (or challenge) from one of our neighbors horses, who often runs toward us like a puppy who has been home alone. This horse really wanted Lilly to run along the fence, but I tossed out a LEAVE IT and upped the ante on treats so that Lilly found greater rewards staying with me. Small victory, I think.

Relaxation Protocol on the Road
We continue to work on SIT-EAT-RELAX at various locations around town. And, yes, most times I have Lilly hop out of the car off leash because she is getting so good. We amused a man waiting in the lot at the pharmacy the other day. It wasn’t so much how cute Lilly was sitting and eating as it was her attempt to jump back into the Mini. Even though it’s much lower than the 4Runner, she still doubts herself because the crate sits farther back and the landing surface isn’t as level or solid.

So, she stood on her hind legs, front feet on the bumper, and jumped straight up several times. It really was funny. I finally had to ask her to backup and try again with more of a running start before she managed to leap all the way into the car and crate.

Silly!

Here are a couple shots from this week and earlier ones.

Lilly at the small, local hardware store, where she soon took a treat from one of the men who work there. You can tell by the pulled-back ear position that she’s feeling a bit amped up, but she is smiling, so she is doing relatively OK here.

Here, she is resting on a bench, keeping an eye on some kids at a local park near the creek path. I tried to get her to look at me, but she needed to see and track the shrieking. Everything else about her looks pretty good to me.

The Predator at Dusk
I took Lilly out with me Wednesday evening to get the mail up on the road. It was dusk, which is coming earlier and earlier these days, and Lilly got to be a natural born predator … when a rabbit took off like a shot as we walked out the front door … and … when a herd of deer I had not noticed in time, took off running as we walked back.

My LEAVE ITs were worthless in the face of such temptations. (We’re nowhere as accomplished at the wildlife challenge as KB and her pups.)

So, rather than pitch a fit, I trusted the rabbit and deer to outrun Lilly, then called her too me. Once the rabbit went under and the deer over the fence, Lilly returned.

Another Playdate With LuLu
Stay tuned next week for a LuLu update. We’re heading up the canyon to their house Sunday for a visit with our new Australian Shepherd / agility friend. This should be interesting since LuLu is now 4 months old and about 20 pounds. (LuLu’s photo gallery on the Fuzzy Bullet site)

Betsy says that LuLu is learning to read other dogs’ discomfort, so we’ll see how the two girls do. I’ll bring some super-high-value treats with me.

I would love if they could be friends, but I’m also well aware that LuLu is in that critical period, so I don’t want Lilly to scare her.

Maybe Thunder Too
We hope to see new borzoi pal, Thunder, soon too.

Tom got to meet him recently. Thunder is really good off-leash, I hear. BUT, he took off up the mountain at one point to chase some deer. The difference between Thunder and Katie (our first borzoi friend who we still desperately miss) is that Thunder has a strong recall, so once he was done chasing he came right back.

Would I rather not have to muzzle him and have toenails be such an ordeal? Sure. Did I make mistakes that got me where we are with his toes? Yep! Is starting over NOW worthwhile? I’m beginning to think not.

I’m well aware that various real-life drama may have reset my priority meter, but I wonder if other serious dog people simply reach a point where working on something in a dog who is really pretty happy 99% of the time is an exercise in something other than dog training.

For a number of reasons, Ginko’s leash-walking skill is nowhere near Lilly’s. He lags behind, then shoots out ahead. He veers from left to right, back to front. He prances BOTH sideways and backward, while waiting to see if my hand reaches for the bait bag. In other words, Ginko does just about EVERYTHING but walk in a straight line.

To avoid the leashes getting tangled or anyone tripping, the task of avoiding disaster falls to me and Lilly because thanks to our agility work and near-constant, side-by-side companionship, we’re like a couple of Dancing With the Stars pros compared to Tom and Ginko’s amateur attempts (no offense, honey!). Lilly has learned over the years to read my body and other physical cues well.

I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong. Thoughts? Advice?