Thursday, September 20, 2018

Russian Dolls


I passed an old woman
who walked along the road.
Back bent and shoulders stooped,
steps straight and head bowed.

I wondered where she went.
No sidewalk and no ride,
she walked doggedly on,
cars travelled by her side.

Then I saw the outline,
a young woman, steps light,
followed by a child,
the core, full of life.

Ghosts of her past glowing,
Russian dolls each within,
Defining the woman
she has always been.

©2018 Maria Amodei


Saturday, August 18, 2018

Embers


Her eyes are eager
and step still quick,
though time has claimed her swiftness
and dimmed her senses.

She folds to your work
effortlessly
like the creases of old gloves,
with holes and cold hands.

Neither can condone
that years of work
have both honed and worn away
the teamwork shared.

Those eyes are embers
of a grand past.
You see a faded photo
that your mind completes.

©Maria Amodei 2018

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Hurry Up


This morning it was drizzling as I took care of the meat chickens.  These birds are locked in a small pen with a roof at night to keep them safe from a hungry owl.  There is a stretch of fence between the night pen and their favorite bush to hang out under during the day.  This has not been a problem, they know that to travel back and forth between the shelter of the pen and the shade of the bush they need to walk about 20 feet in the wrong direction first to get around this fence.  As I finished taking care of them this morning the drizzle abruptly became a downpour.  About half of the birds were under the bush and half still under the roof of the night pen.  The bush was hardly protection from the driving rain so those birds immediately raced to the shelter of the night pen, but not around the fence to get in the door.  They ran straight to where they could see the other birds, then worried back and forth along the fence trying to get through.  These are the same birds that would have easily run around the fence in the evening when I put them in for the night.  The urgency of the driving rain created pressure which greatly reduced their ability to make a good decision.

I’m not saying my waddling meat chicks are particularly clever, but neither are they stupid.  I’ve reconfigured the fence and pens several times as they’ve grown, and they’ve had no trouble finding their way around.  The point here is that the pressure of the downpour rendered them almost incapable of performing a task they’d performed multiple times before.

The parallels to this and working sheep should be obvious.  It is the source of the “walking sheep are winning sheep” saying at dog trials.  Rushing stock, too much pressure or aggression from the dog or handler, these conspire to make the stock frantic and behave in unpredictable ways that do not help you get your work done.  Some bad draws start out bad, some are made bad by the dog on the field.  Some dogs are downpours.

This concept is equally important in training and handling your dog.  As your dog pressures the sheep, you pressure your dog.

The most common problem I see is that a trainer feels they have adequately taught the dog a specific skill and/or command, and then apply pressure for noncompliance.  The dog may only partially understand the requirement, perhaps only in certain circumstances, or may feel unable to perform the task in that environment.  The trainer applies pressure and the dog’s performance does not improve, and perhaps deteriorates.  The dog may be labeled as hard headed or sulky or stupid.  Really the problem is the dog’s ability and understanding were not quite ready for what was asked, and applying the pressure only reduced the dog’s ability to comply.  I am quite guilty of this at times, which is why I try to keep a rule that if we are failing repeatedly and I’m getting frustrated just end the session.  This is to give ME a break to think it out and consider a better method.

Think of it this way.  You are completing a math problem.  You have been able to solve similar problems before, but it requires focus and calm.  I loom over you relentlessly telling you to hurry up, pointing out possible errors before you can work it through yourself.  Are you going to complete the task faster, slower, or not at all?

None of this means don’t apply pressure.  Apply pressure, then release when you get what you need.  If you are not getting what you need quickly, never or seldom releasing the pressure, then make the job easier.  Change the exercise.  Maybe even just remove the pressure and see if the dog can do the work on its own.  Just pause and take a deep breath.  Or, quit the session and think about a better way, always a good option.

Some dogs handle pressure well, some do not.  Something we should pay attention to in breeding.  There is inherent pressure on the trial field.  Not only are the field and sheep new, their handler is tense, acting differently.  The dogs can tell the difference even with outwardly calm handlers.  With dogs that have trouble dealing with the rapid-fire commands and yelled demands that so often go with a trial run you can practice this skill.  Train as you normally do, then suddenly start barking out commands one after another like you might on the trial field, making sure the dog complies because it is training, then go back to reasonable handling.  Just do it for a few moments, then maybe a few more.  Maybe freak out and scream “LIE DOWN” (again making sure the dog complies because this is training).  Then go back to your reasonable self.  Get the dog used to your Mr. Hyde in small doses.

A good long-term way to deal with putting too much pressure on a dog at trials is visualization.  Don’t visualize everything going well.  The dogs and sheep do not share your visualization so no amount of imagining perfection on their part is going to help you.  Instead visualize all the things that are likely to go wrong on the trial field, with you handling them calmly and appropriately.  Hear your voice stay steady, your whistles clear, feel your mind settled as you handle what the stock and dog present.