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Skip ran in our first trial last weekend, and while watching the video to figure out how the heck he got a shed (the only really good one of the trial), I realized what a great opportunity it was to play the “Sharpen Our Observation Skills” game.
I’ll never forget my first day of Ethology Lab at UW-Madison, in which Professor Bayliss sat us down in front of a glass cage with rats in it and asked us to record our observations of their behavior. Afterward, our discussions went something like this:
Prof: Describe what you saw, from second one to second ten.
Us: One rat was asleep, the other walked to the side of the cage.
Prof: But what was the posture of the sleeping rat? Respiration rate? Did you describe it’s coloring so you could ID it in another group? And what do you mean “walked?” Which paw moved first, a front or back one? How many steps? . . . . Etc. Etc. Etc.
Thus we began learning how to be truly good observers, or, at least, better, understanding that behavior takes place in microseconds and drilling diown into finer and finer details is everything.
So . . . Wanna play? If so, start by watching Skip during the “lift,” when the dog makes “contact” with the sheep and gets them moving. This occurs from about second 13/14 to about 60 seconds. (A perfect lift gets the sheep moving, quietly and without stress, in a straight line toward the handler.) Decide what aspect of Skip’s behavior you want to focus on–His posture? His pace? How he flanks? Is there a particular thing he does that you think is most important? Write your comments and observations down, and make my day by sharing them in the comments if you are so inclined.
Okay, next: Watch the lift again, but this time focus on the sheep. See if you can predict by their behavior by guessing who is going to move first. Who might be the “lead” sheep? Same one? (Note: You can’t tell if they are on line straight to me or not because I’m out of the picture, but if I remember right, they were very close to being perfectly on line.) What is their pace? If they stop after getting going, can you speculate why? Can you predict what direction they are going to go by watching a particular body part? Again, try writing this down, and don’t hesitate to share if you feel like it.
Wanna play some more? Go to 6:22 to 6:39, and watch Skip’s successful shed. (The “shed” is an exercise in which the dog and handler work together to split up the group of sheep, usually 2 sheep from the others and held away from the group by the dog until the judge says “Good!”). These sheep were almost impossible to shed. They are “school sheep,” and have learned that velcro-ing themselves to the handler is the best place to be. They have virtually no fear of humans and behave as though they are glued to each other, and glued to you. For example, one of them allowed me, during an earlier part of our attempt for a shed, to kiss her on the nose while standing on my boot. (I am not making that up, and if case you are new to sheep, that is not typical sheepy behavior!)
First, what happened here? Now you have three animals to observe! What did I do before the actual split? What was Skip doing? Could you predict, before it happened, which sheep would separate enough for Skip to come in? And, critically, Skip’s shed wasn’t perfect, in that he focused on the 3, rather than the 2. Any ideas about why? (Hint: It’s on me.)
If you’re totally into this, go to seconds 3:25 to 3:50 in which Skip and I try to get the sheep through the second of the two “drive panels.” Jim was videoing in a perfect position to illustrate why we missed getting the sheep through the panels, but I was not, and was struggling, with my lame depth perception, to figure out exactly where they were. But it’s a perfect place to watch the sheep and predict what is going to happen. (It’s also a perfect place to view Skip’s biggest challenge–always wanting to stay on the left, and one of mine, which is depth perception on the cross drive.)
That mistake sent us into second rather than first, but I couldn’t have cared less. I was very happy with Skip’s work, he was responsive and focused, and, except for my one mistake, I managed to keep my head together. I’m pretty sure that Skip is unable to change his relentless desire stay on the sheep’s left (see my post re his hearing & vestibular dysfunction), and I have no trouble forgiving myself one split-second mistake.
Maggie in her prime, 2015
Overall, it was a great day. My favorite kind of trial–small, casual, supportive. A chance to see good friends I haven’t seen all winter. Maggie came out of retirement to enjoy herself in a “non-compete” run, and she was SOOOO happy! She didn’t do well at all and neither did I. She messed up, I gave her the wrong flank at the worst possible time, and neither of us cared a bit. I’m so grateful for the folks at Agility on the Farm for putting on the trial!
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: First, fun with Easter! Friends David and Julie came over for our annual Pretend You Are Kids on Easter Day. We ate a grown-up lunch, colored eggs like a bunch of 5-year olds, and had a boys against the girls Easter Egg hunt. We didn’t have enough of those little wire dipper things to dip our eggs into the mugs with dye, so Jim McGyvered with my baking whip. Brilliant.
Maggie gets credit at the end of the egg hunt, although I did not get a photo of her saving us. The guys found 15 of the 16 eggs Julie and I had hidden, and then . . . I couldn’t remember where I’d hidden the last one. Whoops. Not pleased by the thought of an egg rotting in my study, I called Maggie into the room, showed her one of the eggs, and said “Find It.” Never once have I ever trained her to find a scent I’ve shown her. Ever. She has learned to search for the tug toy when I say Find It, but that’s it.
Damn if she didn’t go right to the correct area and sniff like crazy. Now, she did NOT go right to the egg, hidden behind a large piece of xxboard. However, she went to that corner, and would not stop sniffing about 3 feet above and to the right of the egg. I’m thinking that’s where the egg scent was moving to, given the vent in the floor beside the egg. Or, I could just be making it all up, but it was impressive how she kept going back to one area every time I said “Find It.” I’ll never forget Steve White, in one of his fabulous seminars, talking about how dogs go to the strongest scent, not necessarily where the scent originated from. I’m calling it Maggie For the Win.
Besides all the fun colors of an Easter egg hunt, the flowers outside added to the party on a warm, sunny day. Here’s an early bee enjoying a crocus flower, before the inevitable happened and a rabbit chomped it to the ground.
Here’s another–I enjoy them when I can, having decided the rabbits win, what the hell, and I’ll just plant spring bulbs they don’t like.
And, of course, it’s April, so this happened two days later. It’s always April Fool’s Month in Wisconsin, just part of the fun. (And, Skip was soooo happy! I wish I could give him snow every day of the year–but just in little patches that never get icy or melt into mud.)
It’s warm and sunny today, and watching the birds around here is like being in a bar with dozens of drunken twenty-year olds who just discovered sex. Out the window, as I write this, I am watching 3 species of birds compete for a nest in a native vine on the pergola that Jim built. Last year a pair of robins built it after the one we provided got too hot in summer. Right now as I write, a pair of mourning doves and a male house sparrow are fighting for access. A few feet away, a pair of house finches are doing extensive remodeling to the nest out the living room window. (It gets too hot in mid-summer, so we’ll keep it there for the first batch and then move where it’s a few feet over. Or move it now? Not sure, both nests are very close together.)
From All About Birds, Cornell
That’s it for me today, but I soooo hope you want to play the dog/sheep/human observation game and talk about it in the comment section. I’ll be all eyes and ears for the next few days.
My delight for the day? Mr. Mourning Dove besotted with Mrs. MD. He is adorable, although I’m not sure if I’d think so if I was Mrs. MD. She can barely get a moment to herself! Don’t forget to tell us yours.
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