Yesterday, I could see it click in with him. I set up a c-shaped tunnel and a jump, like this:

\ <--jump
c <--tunnel

Obviously the c was bigger than that--just trying to communicate the idea. I stood off the the side of the tunnel, like this:

\
x <--that's me
c

and sent Rush over the jump with my left hand (away from the tunnel) and front-crossed the jump so that he wrapped the jump standard and was pointed at the tunnel (on my right side now), then sent him to the tunnel; when he came out of the tunnel, I front-crossed again, which put him back on the left side and back in starting position.

I started the exercise with the jump/wrap portion, until he was wrapping the standard pretty tightly. (He's only nine months, so of course there was no jump bar, just the lower bar of the jump itself, at about four inches.) I rewarded for a tight and fast turn. Then, I did the jump->tunnel two-obstacle sequence and threw his toy to the end of the tunnel. He did that beautifully. I added in the front cross back and rewarded at me side when he got there. Then I did the whole sequence, with the two front crosses, and we had a party. Big party, lots of play! Then I did the whole sequence again, just because I could, and because it was so much fun.

(Rush and I are having some issues with his tugging. If there’s agility equipment around, he just doesn’t want to let go. It reminds me of the Susan Garrett video about building drive by being a bad dog trainer. Obviously, I’m the bad dog trainer here. I’ve got to work on his “give!” cue.)

Dancer has gained two pounds in the last month! She weighed 55 pounds. She’s going to be getting a lot of vegetables and not much kibble for a while.

Details about the sculpture and its creators available here: Barone Art.

My current training projects with Elly are three. First, there is the perennial project of trying to teach her loose-leash walking. I wonder now if I would have been more successful if I’d been more consistent when she was a pup; I was so clueless about training that I didn’t understand why I shouldn’t allow her to pull me into the agility ring, even when it was pointed out to me. Anyway, my current method, applied consistently over the last six months or so, is starting to show results. Keep in mind she doesn’t have a collar; I use a harness because of her shoulder and hip issues. That makes it harder. In any case, I’m finding that stopping and backing up (not turning around, backing up) as soon as she’s about to pull (not once she does) gets the point across far better than anything else I’ve tried. (I use the same method with Rush, who pulls very little already; more below.)

Second, I’m trying to teach Elly not to bark out the window so much. This is challenging because she loves to bark at any dog walking by; since we live on a corner lot, this happens a lot. I was determined when I got Rush that he would not bark, so I consistently rewarded him to coming to me when Dancer and Elly barked. He now runs to me when the bark, and gets rewarded; Elly and Dancer have noticed this and Dancer now comes running when Elly barks, too. Elly seems to prefer barking to food, at least for a bit, but is starting to interrupt to come for treats too. My goal is to get her to interrupt sooner.

Third, I’m working on WAIT with Elly. She never had much of a start-line stay, because I never really trained it. Now that she’s not competing any more, I am training it. Go figure. She now has to WAIT for her dinner; to get out of the car; to go out a door; to go into a tunnel; for just about everything—and suddenly she’s learning to wait. Funny how easy consistency makes training. I can even walk around her in a sit, sometimes.

(Note: I use Elly to practice my shaping for various tricks I want to teach Rush. She’s very clicker-savvy, loves shaping and playing games, and I don’t care what the results are, which makes me that much more relaxed. It’s a good way for both of us to learn.)

With Dancer, I’m focusing on the CPE Nationals in June. This week Debbie and I worked on her double jump. She’s been nervous about it; we tried using a stride regulator (jump bump) to help her learn where to put her feet. The stride regulator is four feet from the front bar; she needs to take off from just inside the bump. It really surprised me what a difference it made to her jumping form. I am also working on her contacts, on weave entries (and fast weaves), and practice shaping her path. I’d like her to be more confident on the teeter, as well, so I’m rewarding the teeter a lot.

Now that Rush and I have started first level agility class and he’s begun to learn equipment (jumps at four inches, the tunnel, the hoop, the end of the dog walk and the bottom of the a-frame), I feel like he’s learning at lightning speed. It’s pretty clear that I have to get new things right the first time, because he learns so fast! At class on Saturday, he was introduced to the ladder. He was so tentative and so unsure. I took him through slowly, gave him lots of treats for every step he made through it; when we came back around to do it a second time, he trotted through with his tail held high like he’d been doing it forever.

I’m struggling with Rush’s excitement level in agility class. He gets so excited that he forgets his manners and jumps up and snaps at me. I remember when Dancer used to do the same thing. I know what Rush is thinking: get a move on! let’s go! come on! you’re so fucking slow! I stop and I wait for him to calm down but I want better results and I want them now—I’m as bad as he is. Dana suggests I take a step into him when he starts to jump up at me. I’ll try that the next time I get a chance.

Debbie is trying to help Rush get his focus off me and onto the equipment; we’re using his toy as a target. The final exercise this week was to send him over a jump moving away from a second jump, then wrap the jump standard (using a front cross) and send him over the jump to his toy. He did well with it, but he sure was annoyed at first, until he figured it out. There’s a lot of dog training that is very zen: to get the toy, he had to not want the toy and move away from it. It’s a lot like the “It’s Your Choice” game (my description here), which is all about not wanting the cookie to get the cookie.

Finally, I’m working on loose-leash walking with Rush as well. He doesn’t pull like Elly (meaning: he’s not a freight train), but he also isn’t a relaxed leash walker like Dancer, which is what I want. BUT… I’ve been completely consistent with Rush. He’s not allowed to pull into the house, into the arena, into the barn, through the gate, anywhere. Not ever. The first time I walked him around the block, I think I walked backward more than I walked forward. Walking backward turns him right around starts him toward me; when he’s halfway to me, I start walking forward and he ends up right at my side. Three or four steps and I reward. If I reward every ten feet or so, I have a beautiful loose-leash walk even in the excitement of class. Outside of class, we can go all the way around the block. The next part of that is to extend the loose-leash walking with more duration, more distractions, and less instruction from me; I want it to be the default.

Everyone is scratching a whole lot less.

I know it’s a cliche to say “I’ve never had problems with fleas before” but it’s true. I’ve never had problems with fleas before. But I’ve talked to several people who say it’s been a terrible year for fleas, so I don’t feel that bad.

Of course, there’s other possible explanations. His hormones could be settling a bit; the training could be working; cleaning up the fleas could have helped with his general agitation level; or he could just be a month older.

With the help of Greta Kaplan (a professional behaviorist and a friend who knows Rush well), I started a plan to make sure he was okay at the vet. I took him to the vet’s office, fed him lots of treats and played with his ball, and left. The vet’s cooperated by letting me take him into an examining room and give him treats there and play with him there. I did that two or three times a week for a month; every time I was anywhere near the vet I stopped in. I had everyone who was handy give him treats.

I held him by wrapping my arm around his body (the position a vet will use for restraint during some procedures) and threw his ball. After I threw it, I released him and told him to get his ball. He got more tolerant of being held.

I asked people who knew him well, that he trusts, to touch him gently and then give him treats.

Yesterday he finally went to the vet for the appointment that was scheduled in November; his anal glands were checked (they were clogged in October and needed to be re-checked); he got his rabies shot.

I took in about two cups of treats: mixed hot dog bits, chicken hearts, and kibble. I took his ball. I played with him and gave him some treats while the vet tech and I talked; Paige came in and did the same thing. While he had his anal glands checked, I fed him treats, and he did okay, just turning a few times to glare at Paige.

He was quite clear he didn’t want the rabies shot; he tried to bite the syringe and refused to be held, by me or by Paige. I made a big show of rattling the treat container, opened it, and let him eat right from the container. While he wolfed down the treats, Paige gave him his shot, and I don’t think he even noticed. He got a few more treats and we left.

What caused his “fear period”? I have no idea. My theory is that it’s related to the surging levels of testosterone in his body.

I obviously need to continue taking him by the clinic for regular treat-and-play visits, and I need to continue to work on handling him, but the progress was palpable.

He reminds me of a 15 year old boy. I met a lot of them when I was teaching. They’re not sure of their place in the pecking order, and they’re worried about everything. They’re inclined to say things like “why are you looking at me?” and they lash out at their best friends for no reason at all.

At least Rush doesn’t have acne. So it could be worse.

He does have a bad grooming job, though. I had to clip all three dogs down, after I found fleas on Elly. They all got clipped and had a bath, the house got cleaned within an inch of its life, and they’ve had a topical flea treatment. A whole lot less scratching is going on, although I still have the creeps from the whole thing. Gack! It was like finding head lice on your kid; you have to tell everyone who might have gotten them, and it’s just so embarrassing.

I managed to do that today in two NADAC regular runs. Round 1 I stopped and marked it when Dancer jumped her a-frame contact — and then she stopped nicely for her dogwalk contact. Round 2, after I sent her off course to a tunnel, I brought her around again and she did the best a-frame I’ve ever seen her do in competition, no perching, with a perfect stop. (She stopped on the dogwalk too, shame about the offcourse.)