When doom and gloom enter the room.

I went up to Power Paws for a lesson with Jim yesterday. Haven't been in a while, in a long while. Don't even remember my last lesson. Last time I was gonna up there, I went out and bought a bunch of succulents and tried to start a succulent farm with my lesson money. Not sure if Jim knows that one. Uh, Hi Jim!

So I gussied up the demented homeschoolers in their best prairie dresses, brushed their bangs up sky high, and we took a field trip off of the compound. Ran them hard at the beach first, low tide and thought that might help a bit. Woke up when they got to their road. Boy do they like going down that driveway.

I unpack mayhem out of the car and we sit down in the fine plastic agility chairs and Jim's all, "How's the Team? What are we working on today?"

Isn't this sort of how therapists open up therapy session? He thought I was just going to say, can we work on sending out to weave poles? Some 270's? I get to watch Jim's eyes go all wide as I unleash the horror of horrors of what's been going on with Team Small Dog. Actually, I don't because he's wearing sunglasses. But I'm pretty sure they're going all wide. Or maybe that was because someone started to dig a hole in the grass. Have you seen Jim's grass? You just don't do that.

Horrors. Actually, if you want to have some even more horrific horrors, go see the movie Food, Inc. Holy moley, that will get you freaked out. It's about the politics and industry of food. Basic old food and really, there's no aspect of food that isn't completely messed up, possibly beyond fixing and even if you've read Fast Food Nation and the Omnivore's Dilemma, you would want to go see this and then figure out where you can plant a garden, although you might be afraid of seeds. And Monsanto. Just ask Indiana seed cleaner Moe Parr about them.

There are graphs and animations and interviews and ammonia washing beef. I mean hamburger meat filler. I don't even eat meat, and I was freaked out. I won't even say I watched this one so you don't have to. I think everybody who likes to eat them some food now and again should go see it. I mean corn. Because almost all food is made from corn now. Except for the mutilated chickens in the dark that can't use their legs. Tractors dump their chicken bodies in the manure heap.

So actually I didn't tell this to Jim, instead just unleashed all the Team Small Dog traumas from the last few months. Although he would have liked the movie. There were tons of tractors.

I tell him about Ruby and she can't even jump or do any agility, anxiety and lame lame lame, then miraculously I have lowered her jumps heights to 8" and she's back doing agility. That's the good news.

And no one here has E. coli. There's some good news.

He gets the earful about Gustavo and the teeter totter whip and the blowing tarps and the sounds and the scaredyness and going back to foundation stuff and the horror of it all. Although I kept my mouth shut about the immigration sweeps from Tyson chicken processing plants and how they bring up illegals from Mexico, use 'em up then throw random folks back at immigration for deportation, just to make some numbers. Happens in pig factories and cow slaughter houses, too. That's the labor force and woe to any union organizers that step in.

I do tell the Otterpop story of her mental illness and weirdo aggression and freaking out about Ruby and can barely run in the show ring.

Basically, I'm like, "Jim, Team Small Dog is just really messed up."

He's sort of squirming in his plastic chair. Jim is super nice and I can see he's kind of like not sure how this lesson is supposed to fix all of that. Thank god I didn't start talking about bacon.

He's says, "Maybe you need to start having your lessons with Nancy?"

Maybe I need to start growing carrots.

Doom and gloom is sitting on his field and bumming out a sunny day when he could be riding his mowing tractor around, cutting the grass. Doom and gloom brings bad dogs that sometimes try to dig holes in the perfect grass. Doom and gloom can't help thinking about the specter of Monsanto, measuring the wind for currents that blow the genetically modified seeds across a fence line, into some unsuspecting farmer's fields.

Oh. And now doom and gloom's boy dog just peed on a post. Probably because I said I made him wear a prairie dress. And he's going to have to start eating carrots.

Doom and gloom trudges out, head hanging low, and sets the jumps really low so Ruby can have a turn.

"Sounds like Team Small Dog is just in a slump."

He gives us a pattern and Ruby just knocks it out like she's been practicing every day forever.

Give it a try with Otterpop and she's flying around like a rabid bat zeroing in on the vampire blood bank. No problem.

Jim's all, "Uh, they look pretty good? Wanna try it with the rear cross?"

Augh. I know! Right? They always do this to me. Perfect little beasts.

So then I bring Gustavo out, he's holding his start line and does the same sequences as those two. Some pole entry issues, not a surprise since we've kind of abandoned poles for teeter fixing the last months. But he's back to crazy fast and is actually handling well and actually not doing anything wrong. Listening! Much listening happening! Not much to get scared of up there, on the Power Paws mountain.

Jim's all, "Should we do some teeters?"

Doom and gloom all hemming and hawing. Maybe they'd be ok. Maybe not. Dark, windowless chicken farms. We've been working hard, it could be a backslide, or it could be time to move up and just get over it. I dunno.

"I dunno!"

We do some teeters. Start slow, just a teeter, not in a sequence. I tip the first boards for him. We build it into a sequence. His poles are actually a lot worse than the teeters. Those are just fine. We work on some stuff with the poles. They fix up just fine. It's just that old too fast to hit the first pole thing, which was why I went back to the 2x2 method and has clearly deteriorated recently. A proven fixable problem.

So we're back on the plastic chairs, and Jim says, "Not really sure I helped you much today?"

I'm not really sure how, exactly. But I think he did. Maybe everything's not fixed, and stuff could go wrong again. The cows will multiply and stand knee deep in shit, the corn subsidies stand in the way of affordable broccoli. Victoria Stillwell fixed the attacking Jack Russell in an hour, but Otterpop is still crazy. Later that evening, she leads Gustavo into a homeless camp deep in a willowy thicket and they pretend not to have recalls and guzzle down whatever was on that guy's foodchain. Probably some corn product.

But I'm just saying. Maybe not so much doom and gloom as I thought.

Teeter totter rehab center-maybe ours ain't like yours.

Radio control tower teeter, as yet unencrusted with jewels or the intended crustaceon decorative objects de arte which I believe are supposed to shells from the sea, is ensconced in it's new role as driveway teeter. I know it is supposed to be shells, because the submarines said so. I used to be unencumbered. Light. Didn't have to speak to subs. Now will be spending my days hunched over, walking around with a plastic bag for collecting sea shells and shiny sea glass and my phone for calling seal rescuers and all the while, trying to make sure I got the radio frequency right on my teeter totter so we don't miss any important calls.


You know, from the subs. Or the aliens.


In taking all the pressure off Gustavo, he sometimes does full teeters from running at full speed, sometimes just hops on the side like he's catching the cement train heading north. Slams it into a pile of soft, hops off and runs around to get another ride. The pressure is off. Sometimes I hop him on and just hop him off. Tried to take all agility pressure off in fact, and letting him just run and run and go back to what he loved about it. There's not really handling right now. Just running. A backslide for an agility super star in the making?


I prefer to think of it like this. I started to lose something precious to me. More precious than the biggest pile of rubies and diamonds and giant crab shells and broken sand dollars and old green beer bottle shards worn smooth by sand and surf. I started to lose my little dog. My fast and bright and shiny tiny dog, who valued running and playing and flying along at rocket speeds more than anything. I wasn't sure where he went, and I got all hung up on he's so far behind. How that reflected on me. Like I looked at my reflection in a chunk of glittering mother of pearl and I was thinking more about that than who my dog was. So I'm just all, screw it. Insert some parable mythology crap here about the raccoon who looks at his reflection in the pond while he's washing off his chunk of shiney tin and then the alligator comes up and bites down and snaps all his bones into bloody pieces and that's the painful end to the raccoon. That's not going to happen to me. Not that I know what's gonna happen to me, or to Gustavo's agility career. It's just that I think we can be happy radioing into the mother ship or meeting new German friends who live under the sea and finding stuff to stick on the radio tower with glue. This is just the Team Small Dog way, for better or for worse. Can't be any worse than one bloody, mangled, former raccoon, at least.

Today is a day where we feel the history and it feels like sparkly abalone shells.

This is the Kitchen Brothers' temple. It's down the street from my house. Lately we've been walking by it a lot, because we love it and the beach has dying baby seals and the forest has joggers and I've taken to just heading North on the railroad tracks and coming home by the temple because that seems like a nice place to walk instead.


Ancient Santa Cruz lore has it that Kenneth and Raymond Kitchen built it to listen to German submarines during WWII.


The radio towers are beautifully encrusted with sonic radar listening abalone shells and bricks and stones. It sits next door to the Hare Krishna place.


The two brothers would soak old mattresses with the garden hose, and lay around together and listen to the subs through the towers. Then Kenneth, or maybe it was Raymond, would walk home to his own temple, that's up the street, on the other side of the railroad tracks.


Not sure what they heard exactly, if submarine chatter came through the shell towers, or if they talked to aliens, or maybe they just heard stuff nobody else could.


Another piece of ancient Santa Cruz history moved to my house yesterday. Ancient in the history of agility in Santa Cruz. It's getting a makeover. I was thinking to beautifully encrust it with abalone shells and bricks and shiny things that glitter. And seeing if it will speak soothing magical chatter to Gustavo, or contact aliens, or just tell him stuff that nobody else can hear about what a beautiful thing it would be, to lose all fear and feel the teeter love.

And, just in case it doesn't have super sonic radio skills, we'll still have the most beautiful teeter for miles around.

Handling the pinworm-a prybar.

So yesterday, we were talking pinwheels. Blah blah blah handle them. You got it. Let's move on, to one with a teeter totter.


You can guess where this is going.


Leslie McDevitt posted a comment here the other day. She said create a pattern where he chooses to put the pressure of moving towards it. Does him running across the field, just dying to get on count? Rad! Right on! Go Goo.


Have I told you recently I hate agility? Because it is hard to love something that you so totally, completely suck at. Or maybe it's easy, but I am just not coming to grips with this. GodDAMN. Another lifestyle that goes awry, turns out to be a bad idea, and just ends up in the crapper. Like baking a bundt cake. Remember how THAT little escapade turned out?


You know how much I love my dogs? As much as Antartica. Australia. Antartica and Australia and every single Ikea parking lot in the universe combined and add about a trillion. That much.


And then agility, wee hee, all fun and then eventually, total suckazoid bummer, man.


Because Gustavo is an awesome dog. He is sweet and he likes to run and he sits on my lap and we like to play with a dirty terry cloth tube and he loves everyone.


And then it's like, Oh, hey buddy. Learn this agility, K? Thanks! You'll LOVE it.


Well, most of it. He was dog who loves agility! Loves everything. Love love love love love.


And then it's just like issue issue issue issue.


And all my friends are all champion champion champion champion.


And I'm all why why why why why.

Teeter Totter retrain-a primer involving channeling rodeo monkeys.

Whiplash always rides hard and holds on tight.


No matter how fast, how much whip, how much hop, or if Pistachio that cat runs out from underneath the car.


Bravest monkey I ever met. Or saw a picture of. Although Whiplash eats bugs and fruit and Gustavo gets string cheese and breast of Trader Joe's turkey.


The driveway teeters, looking smashing and after every ride, he's back in line to go again. Let's see them rodeo cowboys do that! Yee haw Big Pink!

Cowboy monkey dog pony crack that teeter totter whip and hop and whiplash and pop.

You noticed that's Hobbes's face on Whiplash's dog, right? Now THAT's what I call a spirit animal.

This is Whiplash, the cowboy monkey. He loves him his whip. You guys all know him, right? He's not the only rodeo monkey out there, but he's the toughest. A capuchin monkey who rides the rodeo circuit in the midwest, and his string of border collies do a little sheepherding demo and Whiplash hangs on and picks up dirt clumps while his border collie races around. His monkey trainer says he loves it.

And, you guys all know Steve, the Agility Nerd, right? He has border collies, but I am pretty sure he does not have monkeys.

His nerdy project last week was researching teeter totter whip and hop. In his meticulous and well researched way, with videos and diagrams and links. Teeter ass slam fans, fearful teeter dogs, go there now to learn all about the whip. That I was calling the ass slam. And I probably still will. I didn't even know we had a real agility word for it.

http://agilitynerd.com/blog/agility/glossary/TeeterWhipHop.html

You will learn. It was really interesting. And, in one of his videos, it shows his border collie getting the whip in a trial on the EXACT same type of teeter that Gustavo got his ass slam that started us on this whole journey back to teeter square one.

And then, because I guess it's Teeter Week everywhere, Monica of Clean Run just put up all this new teeter info on Clean Run. Vici, the video queen, even sent her video clip of Gustavo's fateful ass slam, I mean whip, moment, but it's not in there. But other dogs, they get the whip and likely have similar results to Gustavo's.

So in all this teeter research, I also found there's other dog and monkey teams. The Ghost Riders do a whole drill team thing, in red white and blue suits. 4 border collies with 4 monkeys. And likely, there are people out there who just duct tape their monkeys on to dogs and let 'em rip. A hobby that probably involves big trucks and Budweiser and putting your cowboy hat over your heart and blessing George Bush out loud.

Oh wait. We were talking about teeter totters and whip and hop? Somehow, in my mind, I just can't get over Whiplash. And his dogs. The cowboy monkey dog ponies. In a real world of teeter retraining, and the future of the whip for Gustavo, my mind is just sort of stuck right now on Whiplash. Who is CLEARLY Gustavo's new spirit animal. In teensy, tiny little monkey chaps.

Teeter totters? That's how life is. You got your solid, quiet, aluminum ones with steady bases, your hollow core fiberglassers, and your plank on tubing. The reality is, every so often in life, you're gonna cross a whipper or a hopper and you just got to be ready to deal with it. Maybe the consequences suck, but you keep calm, carry on, and start again. What else you gonna do? Just deal with it, move on. I think that's the lesson Whiplash teaches us. If he wasn't busy eating bugs and picking up dirt clods from a speeding border collie saddle. Or maybe he doesn't. But hell. It's a monkey riding a border collie. Life goes on.

Happy dog training where if I say happy one more time, I'm going to barf of the happiness of it all.

We have these little baby jumps at work, known as the people jumps. So that the people, usually 8-12 year old girls, can do jumping just like the horses and ponies do. They work for small dogs too, and today, when Otterpop was sailing around them, in that little flying meatloaf way of hers, my friend says, "She looks so HAPPY when she's doing agility."

We don't always see Otterpop happy at work. Sulking. Glaring. Barking at Black Beauty. Giving stink eye to the cats. But not happy, the way she looks when given the opportunity to jump over some rickety old dowels on old jump standards and in and out of the roundpen.

It's a different thing, the dogs and the horses. Spend a lot of my day figuring out how to make a horse do something different, better, stronger, straighter. How to figure out how to get a rider to get the horse to do it. Tuning up a horse that knows how to do that but got sloppy. Making them feel happy, not exactly the goal. Usually jumping better, corners more balanced, softer, lighter, those are words that come up before happy.

That's the thing on training the dogs. It makes them really happy. I'm a pretty simple person, and I like to be happy. And I like my dogs happy. And agility seems to be this whole thing of happy. About the same amount of happy as having a day off and sitting around drawing with pens. And if I say happy once more, I'm going to happy my head right into this wall here. Like would Kurt Cobain have lived, if he had found his dog agility? Maybe it was all he needed. Maybe not. But I would have totally shown him how to make a better front cross.

When I had the dogs out to practice in the morning, I had this thought. All my dogs learn best when they're super happy.

Oh, wait, you're surprised that the answer was happy?

Moving on. That's the whole positive reinforcement gig, for sure. But the same things don't make them all happy. I'm not just talking about rewards, but the way they want to be trained. And what brings out the best in them, so they learn better. Like if for me, school was on a beach with ponies bringing pitchers of pomegranate limeade vodka drinks by and buckets of See's Candy that ride around on roomba vacuums. And there was no teacher. Or books with small writing. And the scissors were never lost. This, maybe not your ideal school. But I am pretty sure, I would learn GREAT there.

Ruby, clicker whore. She's easy. Start clicking and treating and that dog learns about anything you can think of. She cracks me up. I've been teaching her more stupid clicker tricks lately since she's doing less agility. She loves it. And if I had carnitas from Tacos Morenos as the treat, she would probably know the whole Thriller dance by now. Also, the daughter of the Tacos Morenos family, Carina, she is a 5' tall super champion boxer. Talk about small fast, kick yer ass.

Otterpop is clicker trained, and she learns good that way, but I think her most super effective way to learn is if I run around like a stumpy old troll with a froggy voice and play frisbee with her. And when she does the new thing right, that frisbee goes down and off she goes and she would sure learn it super fast if there was carne asada involved. From Tacos Morenos. Maybe not the most scientific operant learning method, but it's just what works for her. Like, if I was teaching her Thriller dance, then yeah, click and treat. We'd have to do more science. But the whole clicker thing would work better if we were both stumpy old trolls and I use the froggy voice and she gets to chase her frisbee.

Gustavo. He likes him his tacos for sure. Have worked long and hard to get him more operant and work with the clicker. But he loves to play and run. That's how he learns best. He loves chasing things. Me. Otterpop. Frisbee. Squirrels. Chicken on a leash. If it can have running before and after, makes things easier to figure out for him. Running and then some Tacos Morenos. Carnitas for him. You see a trend here, what my dogs want to eat all the time? You ever been to Tacos Morenos? Wonder why such a long line out such a teensy, tiny little taco shop at all hours? I don't even eat meat, I just eat their quesadillas. Everybody goes crazy for Tacos Morenos. Makes us all happy.

So for his teeter totter? Started having him eat out there, with the teeter. He was fine about this, but wasn't going crazy. Not seeing that spark in his face, where I know he's learning because he's so crazy happy for something. He was having crazy agility fun this morning, out at the practice field, where he TRUSTS his teeter, and doing great teeters, lowered down, flying around and being his old, wild self. Lots of super poles. Like NOT MISSING the hard entries.


But at home, don't want him up on the teeter until I see that Happy. And don't want him near it if I ever see sad. Clicker, not making him happy near the teeter because the whole Sound of it. So eating with Big Pink, nice happy eating but not Happy because it's the teeter. He was jumping up on Big Pink's yellow end fine, but missing that spark. Missing that crazy drive that makes him want to learn. Was doing it because we were doing dog training and dogs are supposed to do dog training and they get a treat. Bo-Ring, and then maybe a little scarey. But I could hear behind the fence, everybody else REALLY was happy and would love to demonstrate happy up on that teeter. And even though I'm trying to take the pressure off Gustavo, maybe a little peer pressure, not such a bad thing.


So everyone on the teeter. All of a sudden, Happy! The other dogs amazed that there is string cheese coming out for just running up and down a teeter propped up on silent pillows and tables and ice chests. Just back and forth, jumping up, jumping down, teeter totter silent as a lamb. What could be an easier way to get some cheese snacks? And then here goes Gustavo. And boy oh boy, does he look happy. So I think our teeter totter training, a tad unconventional right now, but I got to stick to the plan. And that plan right now, Happy.

Teeter Rehab at Fun Match, where the match part is a thing you set on fire, and it burns up.

We went up to our friend's forest agility house for a Fun Match on Sunday. She has two grassy fields, surrounded by oak trees and redwoods. Little forest paradise. For everyone but Gustavo, for whom now Forest Paradise equals a Walk in the Park of Hell. Started off trying to make it no pressure. Took his toy out on the field, did some fun jumpers runs, a set of poles. A little run with a dogwalk and an aframe. Looking Good! Then one, low key, pressure free teeter totter. Since he's been having so much fun riding Big Pink and his practice field teeter, thought let him just run up on it, I'll slowly tip it down while he has a nice fatty snack, like we started retraining on Big Pink.

He did it great! And, boy was that a stinker of an idea.

Because later on, just getting him anywhere near it, ha HA! The day ended trying to shape him with a clicker him to even touch his feet on the bottom of it. Went from bad to worse. Total freakophobia of even being anywhere near it. Got home to his old friend Big Pink, and he recoils in fear looking at the happy pink face of his old friend. Which just the same morning, he was lunging at to get near to tip it all by himself.

So, my non dog training friends, sort of like you got out of rehab, had a great night out at the bar, everyone drinking and having a grand time, then you have that one doozy of a drinkie, barf all over your asymetrical bias cut, hand screened ensemble before you make it to the ladies room, stagger out to your car, pull out of your parking space, smack into the CHP bike, get a DUI, get thrown in the back of a sticky cop car, drug down to the scuzzy downtown jail, and sit in there with some super scarey ladies, covered with barf while you are just waiting to die. Rehab reverts to relapse.

Maybe let's just call it the very lowest of low points.

Which means where else can you go besides another long, rocky climb back up. Rehab repeats, but hopefully better this time.

So my dog training friend, Kathleen reminded me of the Leslie McDevitt dog training article about a super freaked out teeter totter dog. June, 2008 issue of Clean Run, to be exact. I'm SO rock bottom here. Looking up the dog training articles and actually sitting down and reading EVERY SINGLE WORD. Because we're not talking about a little bit scared of the teeter tipping. We are talking, The Mere Existence of a Teeter Totter is Like Certain Death and Any Sounds That Happen in It's Presence Will Surely Kill You and Then Polygamists Fly You Out on a Celestial Planet Somwhere in Another Dimension Where Polar Bears and Monsters Gnaw Off Your Limbs. A soul crushing way to make dog agility a former hobby for a little dog that was my potential champion.

Basically, McDevitt says, "Taking the pressure off, knowing how to reward the dog, where to reward him, and what to reward him with, were all Quinn needed to jump-start his teeter rehab." Quinn was a border collie (this made me feel better, like Gustavo has a problem a border collie would have and not, like, a chinchilla) who couldn't even play frisbee near a teeter totter, he got so phobic. Like Otterpop had a teeter fear, but was never like this. This is just sheer, weirded out terror.

So I thought we already had jump started our rehab. Was loving just playing funny little games near Big Pink, his new best friend. Had him happy to ride Big Pink, happy to ride Practice Teeter. Happy even to get on Forest Agility Teeter just once. Backed up, retrained, moving forward at a nice slow speed. But what I learned, for him right now, once is too much. That is pressure On. Slow needs to be a trillion times slower. And if during that one slow time, there's any kind of clangy sound that happens anywhere, freakoutazoola. And running up the teeter, I guess, now predicts the sound. Even though we've been practicing fast running with quiet teeters in pillowy tarps that make no sound.

Sorry my non agilty friends, this is just getting so dog trainy. Train wreck of training ahead. But you LOVE Gustavo so much you just can't put this down. Riveting!

When I was clicking him on Kathleen's teeter, a dog knocked a bar on another part of the field. Just that normal, clangy bar knocking sound, while his dainty little feet were touching the teeter totter, and PANIC. So then, touching the teeter, predicts the sound. And the sound has now been magnified in his mind to Godzilla chows down on Tokyo and the touching the teeter and the sound of beloved clicker could not be more awful. The Tyra Banks Show, a better place to be. Rabies Day at the Racoon Farm, sounds good right about now. Bartender, pour me another cup of that poison, cuz that's gonna quench my thirst just fine.

I thought that was something Keith Richards might say. This situation so dire, am looking to Keith Richards for help and inspiration. Focus. McLovin. McDevitt.

Leslie McDevitt does a lot of training for dogs that go over Threshold. Meaning, batshit out of control in some way to where their mind is blotto. Sometimes aggressive, some reactive, or some just go crazy. All lose their bearings and can't focus. Gustavo goes in the crazy pile, which is an issue we've been working on at the same time. Working on calmly sitting on his special little mat and watch other dogs. Run to his mat after a run and get his own leash. Not monkeyscreaming while other dogs are running. Keeping brain inside skull. She applies the same theories to dogs re-learning the teeter totter. Keep them under threshold. At all times. And lots of stuff can push them over that threshold. Like even the sound of a pin drop on the teeter totter, I think.


Some dogs are special needs dogs. Ones that have their own, tiny little school buses. And giant, brightly colored name tags. Wasn't I just thinking this, months ago, when I thought he couldn't learn to do weave poles? How long did it take to teach him to sit? And I broke it down, rethought it out, just for him. Made it SO EASY. And finally, one day, we had weave poles. Maybe not the best in the west, but they're there now at least. Thought he had graduated to riding the big bus all by himself.

That blasted teeter totter, even though he used to have it, was smashing and lovely until 2 weeks ago, can't dwell on that. Now he doesn't have one. All his friends do, and they ride the big bus. End of story. Get over it. Have to make it more than SO EASY. Tiny baby steps, until the steps get a little bigger and then one day, it's there. Only one direction to go right now, starting at the bottom.

Later in the evening, when I take them down to the beach, I watch Otterpop, so logical and methodical, fetching and running, fetching and running. A vocation, obsessive but orderly. Ruby, doing her projects, foraging and hunting and following me, and then there's Gustavo. He's just running. on the rocks, the sand, the seaweed, in the water, and he's so happy. There's no logic, no project, no agenda. No clicking, no teeter, just running. And I know, it's all gotta go back to that.

Dog Agility Rehab-Working the program with Big Pink.

Gustavo is now very well acquainted with our new friend, Big Pink.


He waits at the end of the driveway. Yes, in the street. Maybe this not recommended for everybody to try at home. Evil Knievel always said the same thing. But the cult of Big Pink has taken on superstar status with Team Small Dog and simultaneously seems to be a great deterrant for old drunk guys coming up and trying to sell me stolen bricks. Because EVERYBODY wants a ride on Big Pink.

Except for old drunk guys. Gustavo is CRAZY to ride Big Pink.


Big Pink is still propped on a table and has dropcloths to cushion the clanky blow to the cement. And I'm always there at the end to tip it at different rates of drop, and to have a nice piece of cheese to accompany him on his ride down. Like warm nuts and champagne in first class. For astronauts. Little tiny black furry astronauts.

So far, dog agility rehab, so good.

Twighlight of the Teeter Re-Training Method-Step One.

So let the record stand here, I was never remiss in teeter totter training. We toiled and travailed and trained that teeter, methodically, thoroughly. We toured teeters together, through thick and thin, throughout the state. Teaching that the totter is always fast, the clatter sometimes loud, but that a teeter needs to totter and it's always totally tight.

Even with this life history of teeters, never tumultuous, always triumphant, Gustavo took on a terrible teeter last Saturday and totally tripped out. Should I mention he's also scared of sheetrock screws, blowing tarps, kites, hammering, garbage cans, and oak trees? So not a huge surprise, although a total bummer.

When I realized that this tottering teeter terror might not be a fly by nite tick tock, I told his team, Gustavo can't come to Team Day in May. He's having a bad teeter month and needs to stay home drinking warm liquids and watching the Price is Right. They responded, maybe not in these exact words, but basically, "Oh hell. Your shrimpy dog's little fear du jour nada compared to the trillion ways OUR dogs might screw up and what the hell. We promise that we won't come and kill you in the night with bats if he can't do the teeter during team and totally ruins the whole thing for us and makes our lives shitty for at least 20 minutes after our team comes in dead last."

It takes a village. If that village includes his first knitting team with 2 somewhat erratic but lightening fast border collies, Gustavo's new life coach Kevin, to whom he speaks Spanish to in dreams, a kindly animal doctor who lent us her beautiful hot pink teeter with shiny black trim, and a test pilot to personally test every single teeter Gustavo is going to meet in the next month as he rebuilds his teeter relationship to one of cult status frenzy like 11 year old girls on a foxy vampire named Edward. Twilight of the Teeters, and Gustavo gonna go get him some teeth.


Fun Fact! His personal test pilot who had a long bout with teeter-itis in her youth. Otterpop. I can't even believe Otterpop is 5 years old now. Spent a year maybe, of off and on teeter freakazoid, where I started doing CPE trials for the sheer joy of hiding a frisbee outside the ring, near the teeter, so when she did a smashing, confident teeter, she could run out and a frisbee magically appeared and time froze and flamingos started doing fancy dances and cheese balls fell out of the sky. Dogs take some creative convincing. Horses learn at a young age that stopping at jumps, not an option, and a once or twice meeting with our friends Mr. Whip and Mrs. Spurs usually does the trick for a lifetime, for good horses. Naughty horses, not welcome. Dogs, need flamingos, frisbees, cheese balls, sardines, steak, whatever poison builds that cult status of the horrid item to beyond insane.

So new pink driveway teeter, has a table on one side, a soft pillow of drop cloths and tarps on the other. So when it drops, it's not very far, and falls like a soft, downy feather.


Otterpop, flies down it, no hands, eyes wide shut.

Gustavo? Hasn't even been invited on yet. He just has the luxury of scarfing down wads of ham and cheese for being happy to hear the quiet, clinky, bang sound it makes. A beloved game of all my agility students where everyone comes and gathers round the teeter that I bang with my foot while their dogs scarf down wads of treats for loving that bang. Sort of like sitting around a campfire singing quiet soothing folksongs if the quiet soothing folksongs went "BAM!" and then there was wads of food being stuffed down open singing mouths. And then everyone choked.

Over time, we have built quite a cult following of slammy noises from those dogs. With nary any choking, Square One of learning the teeter in my book, not that anyone really wants to read my book. But while Gustavo has this phobia of new teeters (he actually is happy and fast as a happy fast clam on his normal practice teeter) today we are back at Step One.


The next steps? The tiny, ham filled baby steps of snails. Perhaps outlined here if I can find my camera batteries. Also, if you have a teeter, guess who is inviting themselves over to come and visit you in person this month? Team Small Dog Teeter Tour, here we come!

Is it due to the sunshine?

OK. I know I was all cranky and not a good Sunshine Lady yesterday. But then I left for work, and the sun was out, and it was a day I had time to go practice with the dogs on the way to the barn, and time to go to the beach on the way home from work. And it was hot and I wore a t-shirt all day at work and no parka and no horses were bad and I had time to eat lunch. Nothing was irritating. Sorry. If you like the ranting. Actually, I was probably still curmudgeonly and mean part of the time. But today's story shall focus on the daisies and the rainbows.

The dogs were like phenomenal. Am I making you crazy yet? Ruby is back to the old Ruby which is actually a super fast, pain in the ass speed demon. We missed this Ruby! She was happy to do a little agility in her crazy freaky out of control mode that I love and run like a maniac with the other dogs on the beach. So what's been wrong with her, I dunno. I hope this Ruby is here to stay.

Otterpop practiced super fast and hit her contacts and weirdo pole entrances and attacked the frisbee like frisbee death. I encourage bad and evil behavior when they are doing agility and it makes them CRAZY. Small fast and kick yer ass. I think in dog training language Training in Drive. Training in insaneness of speed and attacking of frisbees and fast weave poles!

OK. Get ready to barf from the barfiness of the joy of it all. Gustavo. Gustavo I take it back everything I said because today you were a sharp knife, the super sharpest one that Dexter uses for serial killing! I might be a spoon but you are turning into a knife! A speedy knife who at this very moment is eating a cardboard box but anyways. We had a lot of knife moments.

He's still just running down the top of the dogwalk. But as fast as I can rev him which is Fast! And hitting his 2o/2o target position smashing wow!

My a-frame technique I am using is called the "Haul Ass Super Fast and Click for Running all 4 Paws Down to the Bottom Method." Perhaps you read about it in Clean Run. I throw treats in a bag so he is learning to not look at me on the click and out to his treats in a bag. He is getting it and so far he hits the bottom every time. The a-frame is way low. The buzz around these parts is all about Rachel Sander's running a-frame box technique but I am going to try to just take this one slow and see if I can teach a consistent hit at the bottom by clicking and running out to tasty snacks in a leopard print bag. He is tiny! Sorry Rachel Sanders!


His teeter method we are using is the similar "Haul Ass and Slide into a Down." It's just all about haul ass with him. And have a piece of cheese on the way down. I am trying to channel Silvia Trkman. I may never be anywhere near as adorable or good. OK. Not even close. But I am just channeling. And not eating so many donuts. So far so good.

Then they had to sit at work all day, on the deck and sleep in a chair. Life is hard. I actually have to work and they are lounging.


And for all my bitching, I can still stop down at Seascape beach on the way home, there's just enough sliver of daylight if I get done a little early (sorry horses and people that I run away from work do not say goodbye to you) that they can get in a quick run before driving home.

But hey! Global warming is still getting worse! Our city is planning for the day when there is No Water!

And Hilary's and Barack's health care plans don't sound very thorough!

And Patty Hearst now has dog show confirmation dogs for a hobby! Beloved Tania!

Did you ever know a dog that was afraid of the dark?

I'm not being all goth girly or wicca here, why would I want to highlight those eye bags and creases, warm glow of candle light my ass. It's just damn winter and the power is out again.

So I was able to get some dog practice in yesterday morning, even though it meant I didn't get a couple of horses done before it got too wet and rainy in the afternoon. Sorry horses! I did work all day on my last day off. With horses and no covered arena, work schedule kind of goes away and I work as much as I can when there is dry and work less when there is wet.

Since their dog run at the ranch turned into a horrible murky swamp, the dogs are currently living in one big dog crate all day under a tarp. They have the door open and a little xpen around it so there is a little more room, but they all just huddle in there in one little black 6 beady eyed heap and stay warm and sleep. This may just be how they spend the rest of the rain season until they get a dog run back. Sorry dogs!

It's all about compromise.

Practice yesterday, quick practice because rain was coming and horses were waiting, was teeter day. Otterpop worked on doing her teeter all by her lonesome, far, far, far away from me. She will do anything I ask when we practice. A teeter at 30' away in the big scarey dog show ring with the Judge Who Clearly is a Dog Slasher nearby and terrible things like Photographers and Spectators who could be armed and dangerous robots, that is too much to ask. But someday, she is going to get that Gamble with a Teeter. She still needs that ONE Advanced Gamblers Q to move to Masters Gamblers. But we are a little cursed in that department. We rarely get to do Gamblers on Sundays. And one time, the time with the nice tunnel to a-frame, was the time I ran into the judge. Sorry Jim HIbbard but you were standing Right in Front of the Jump EVERYONE was using to head into the gamble! And one time I just messed up my opening timing, that time had a nice set of jumps and tunnels in the gamble. And one time, a teeter, no dice. But today, I was sending her out to speedy nice teeters and onto hard pole entrances from almost miles away. Kudos to Otterpop!

Ruby worked on nice fast teeters and just nice fast things sequences with lots of tugging or getting the toy. Far distance with toy thrown out, and close tight turns in and getting the toy. I am trying to get her less food frantic during practice and keep her motivation up with toys and see if we can somehow skew that into faster runs when she is bored out of her little skull from sitting all day at a trial or whatever causes her to slow down by the end of the day. Thus eventually becoming faster weave poles. So goes my theory. So she is just practicing having fun.

Gustavo is learning to run speedy fast up the teeter and flip into his down while I set it down slow. That is all he has to do for a long time. He just needs to learn to fly up that board and not get scared and always hit his down. So that's what he does. He needs to do everything a lot of times before he gets it. That is how he learns. I get it! So that's what we do. I am doing lots more clicker tricks with him, lots of fast, fast, fast repetitions and he is getting things. I can't ask him to do too many things or let him go to Spring Break in Puerto Vallarta of the Mind. So now he is learning a little through the legs move to my right and revisiting hand touches. Easy. Right? Your dog learned it in 5 minutes. My other dogs in a couple sessions. Gustavo, few weeks. He is fast, he is talented, he just learns more slowly so I get this now! We gots no hurry vato. We got all the time he needs.

And we got to practice in the light. At our house, we had no power last night. Tiresome. But who would have thought dogs notice? It's just nighttime and dark right? Not for little Gustavo. Power goes out, he runs to a crate and hides and won't come out. Power on? Out of crate, a-ok. Power out? Panic, scrambles off to crate. He's a fraidy cat! I'm getting him his own flashlight.

Project Runaround.

So is it just me, or is Project Runway sort of sad this time around?

Like it is more about being on Project Runway, then just being on Project Runway.

Even the entertaining ones are just really, not that entertaining. And while I was happy that Chris got to come back, and it was sad Jack had to leave (not a surprise because he leaked this to the press like weeks ago so everyone knew this was happening) I was still sort of like, left, unsatisfied. Like when you split the piece of ho ho cake instead of getting your own piece. It's good, but it could be a lot better. Because I have had my own piece of ho ho cake on more than one occasion and I KNOW how good it is.

And the thing of Steve going, who did make a super ugly dress for sure, is he was very witty and sort of was the main witty guy actually. Who is going to be witty now? Chris will be voted off soon. Christian is not exatly witty, just humorous and interesting and his hair is witty. Ricky just cries. Sweet P can jump like a monkey and she is sweet but to be witty you need to have that somewhat evil streak. Jillian and Victoria are just mean and humorless. They will grow up to become Nina. Rami is very serious. They're all just serious which means the producers will have weird challenges I bet to get them all a twitter fight. Not going to be good.

I am trying to approach training Gustavo as if we have been asked to compete on Project Runaround. So I am trying to do a serious and good job, yet also be fun and witty and get a lot of camera time. Yesterdays challenge started with "leave its" because we started training out with 3 big barking dogs running up and down the other side of the fence, as if screaming, "You are letting her make you a sissy boy Gustavo and should come out here and let us kick your ass and become a barking ranch dog!" At the exact spot I had planned to start with, my little organized sissy jump chute with a tunnel on one end and a chute barrel on the other. But, Tim Gunn was there and he said "Make it work," so we worked on clicking leave its and stays, something I haven't ever really done with him because he is a good dog. And I had been thinking, something my other dogs had done a lot of and really did build trememdous focus from them because they both had issues. Otterpop spent many a day walking around random guys in parks doing leave its. Ruby spent years doing it with other dogs everywhere. So that was one turn. And boy, those dogs have learned to leave it and stay. And they're no sissies.

Then we did contacts for his next turn. He has to sit and watch the other dogs have very fun turns of practicing real agility things, not the training wheels. Tricycle wheels. That gets him amped up. So we did contacts to build focus next. He is getting good at those, we just worked on the dogwalk and he is running down from the top now. Nice and fast and solid each time! Clicking and treating, then a fast run out to a toy which he likes to grab and then just tug with, not a fetcher. I really, really, really don't want to get voted off yet. The contacts could be our saving grace right now.

Next turn, runs up the full size teeter into his down. I've been alternating with him tipping it himself on the tables, or just running to the top where he gets to eat a piece of Trader Joe's string cheese all the way down, real, real, slow. That was today's. The only problem of this is that he loves doing this, and I have to really watch him that he doesn't run up when he's on a loony toones run around the field moment, tip it himself on full height and get scared. Which he did a couple weeks ago and I can tell has changed his relationship with it some. He is tiny! That thing is huge!

After each turn, besides just playing and tugging we do some jumps with runs to tug or front crosses or I send him over after a toy. So he thinks fast jumps are part of playing. Sometimes he gets too focused on the toy and misses at the jump. Susan Garrett saw this and I saw her shake her head and tell me to go get her DVD about foundation jumping. Augh.

So when it was his turn down the runway, we didn't get voted off yesterday but we weren't in the top group either. Our scores were high enough to avoid elimination was all we got. So at least we're still in there but we need to get better to win the next challenge. I have to remember the next challenge may be with Susan Garret and Rob and Nancy Gyes as judges and so I better keep doing better training and not complaining my dog is retarded. Project Runaround is hard for a slacker type like me.