When She is Good...

She...Sonoma, is very, very good. I'm referring to the weather, but there isn't much about this trial that would not be categorized by all attendees as very, very good on any year. Unfortunately the sheep this year were the 1 glaring exception and luck of the draw played the starring role in competition. They were very bad girlz, miserable beasts, marauding cretons, like I never want to see again. On 1 of my 6 trips to the post at this long-running trial, I had the overpowering desire to call in sick.

Flat field

Running on these sheep was like playing pool in the devil's hall. The crew racked them as tightly as possible and we sent our hapless collie-ques flying for the break. No matter how correct the dog at the top, no matter how much feel, patience, timing or skill full handling with a deft touch around the course, they ran, careened off the bumpers, topography, fences and dogs like maniacal, 200lb, just-shorn bumper cars on LSD, a runaway, downhill freight train, maddened, stampeding elephants through a straw-hut village, Jack Nicholson as the Joker.

I swear I heard one cackle as she rocketed past me at the pen. They made no sense. They did not behave normally. They were no fun at all and no amount of talent or skill helped when you got the worst of the worst, which was all but a few. The sheep sucked at Sonoma. So let's talk weather...food...and wine.

Jan and Star into the breach

When I think of Sonoma, I think of heavy duty rain gear, as in "Deadliest Catch" best of... After 2 torrential years in a row and one huge, downed oak that blocked entry to the trial for over an hour, it was such a relief to see the forecast. We had sun, sun, and more sun with just a bit-o-wind Sunday afternoon.

Mornings were clear and cool, but when the sun topped the treeline, jackets went flying and all manner of hats appeared. We ate on picnic tables, basked in the glory, lingered in the grass with our dogs. The weather could not have been better and it was a lovely accent to the fine food.

My foster dog, Brady, shaded up under my chair

Our hostess, Sandy Milberg, brought in a catering truck this year, instead of the usual Healdsburg 4H kids to feed us, and it was a nice change-up. Falafel, pita sandwiches and BBQ on Sunday drew us toward lunch like a lonely dog to a...well, to a girl-dog. We monged on lunch while Sandy conducted her most-excellent auction during the hour-long break each day. I couldn't afford tickets this year, but there was an amazing array of world-class, award-winning, and very expensive wine on that table. Just the sight of it was impressive.

I had some extraordinary 2-buck-chuck at the hotel, and enjoyed an amazing bottle of Italian chianti with good friends at La Coco's in Santa Rosa on Saturday night. OK, so the sheep disappointed, but it was nothing that  great weather, memorable food, spectacular wine and sparkling conversation with laughter among dear friends in a charming restaurant could not assuage. Sonoma is a really not-to-be-missed-if-at-all-possible dog trial.

Set out on the hill field

So how were my dogs you ask? Mirkie was heroic. There's no other words for his performance. My 10 year old dog ran his legs off, never gave up, took every frantic command with a calm that made me miss him already, even though I may get another year. There's nothing like running an exceptionally powerful, older dog that forgot more about sheep than I'll ever know. What a great pleasure it has been to own him.

Sunday on the hill field, deep in the afternoon with the wind driving insane ewes into every nook and cranny, he navigated the hill field like a ballerina on rails. I asked a lot of him to fly over treacherous, uneven terrain where one bad step could cost a career-ending injury. After a decisive split and 3 revolutions around the pen I lay him down and let the sheep run free.  They were most definitely not worth it, even though his run had been passable and may well have placed him in the points had I let the clock run out.

Bottom of the hill field

Buffy got lost on the hill field. No surprise there. He is wide, there was no room, and these were not the sheep for his particular idiosyncrasy. He fared better on the flat field and came within a near miss at the pen to finish in the top 5. Where almost half of the field DQ'd, his owner, Mandy had run him successfully in the pro-novice on Friday against the same wiley sheep we had in the open, and she was standing ringside with husband, Hirsh to watch his go with me.

I always marvel at how adept he is changing gears from her to me and back again. Buff just rises to the occasion and gives as good as he gets. A point or 2 will come his way for a top-20 finish, and that's something to be proud of in an 84 dog field from this talented Irish import we share.

High point of the running for me was nursery dog, Tam. You should'a seen him go! Trialed just 3 times previously and with very little experience of any kind away from home, he did himself proud on Friday in 2 nurseries on the same impossible creatures we had in the open. Only when he got them, they were fresh! The sheep did everything but pull a knife on him, and he just kept on keeping on.

He ran out beautifully, exhibited feel, took every whistle, demonstrated clean flanks, kept his cool under pressure and fairly trounced the competition by a 7 point margin with a 68 in the 2nd running, picking up the overall win as well. For that Sandy awarded a gorgeous, harness-quality leather collar and leash, and a 2007 vintage Napa red that I'm told is pretty special. That dog's a keeper.

Tam's nursery winnings

And did I mention my pro-novice friends? We were 3-for-3 at this one. Mandy and Buff, Beth and Hula, and Jan with Star all earned scores in a 42 dog field where 17 were either DQ'd or retired. Way to go girlz and doggiez! So happy for ya...

The wrap up is, Sonoma is very, very good. It is, after all, one of the most beautiful places on earth, and the sheepdog community is very blessed indeed to have hosts like Sandra and Arthur Milberg, who work tirelessly for us year after year after year. They offer up they're incomparable Oak Springs Farm, pull together an amazing crew, raise money for kids in the process and quite simply put on one spectacular dog trial that I will attend every year they'll have me.

A Letter to My Dog

Denying to myself that I would ever lose him, I wrote this letter to Price 4 years ago.

A letter to my dog

I've been feeling the weight of my dog lately like a fine, wool blanket; warm, treasured, familiar, comforting. Addressing this, Dear Dog, just seems goofy, so I’m writing a thank you note to him for helping me craft another life when the last one collapsed under me like a Rocky Mountain avalanche.

With love for me, no holds barred, you have survived my ignorance, wrongful punishment, misplaced anger, bad timing, crazy ideas, long road trips, cheap food and hard beds. How did we find each other? What are the chances?

My dog should run, not walk away from me. I have put him in tight spots. He once almost drowned at a motel parking lot when I left him outside over night in a winter torrent. Drain holes in the truck bed plugged and frigid water pooled inside the dog box. By morning, he looked like a wet cat that someone failed to murder. My dog just wanted to pee and get to work.

I remember details from the first time I saw you. It was exhilarating like when I saw my second ex-husband for the first time. I felt euphoric with butterflies. I desired him. I had a visceral reaction to you too, but my instincts were better. You are a good man all the time.

My dog is the window that God opened after slamming an iron door on my tightly clinched fist. He is a wooden casement window that makes that shushing sound when the weights descend to raise the pane. On our first day together, I left him alone on the side of the house in a kennel. He stood scared, staring at the door, exactly how I found him 12 hours later. Immediately recognizing my selfishness, we spent a glorious day getting to know each other.

God opened more windows, light filtered in and we began to lengthen our stride. You tried so hard to please me. I bullied, you tried harder. I have no words to express the emotions that ripped through me both times you almost died. The snake bite was the worst and all 5 days you spent in wretched agony at death's door were devastating to us both. 2 years later when you lost a lung lobe to infection, I never realized the extent of it until I saw the 9 inch incision running down from your withers. You are the bravest creature I have ever known.

Six weeks after the snake bite my dog found success at 2 of the toughest sheepdog trials in North America, The Meeker Championship and the National Finals. 2 years later, with an e-collar around his neck, a gash the length of his rib-cage, and a fentanyl patch taped to one leg, I lowered him from my truck a day after surgery that spread his ribs to remove part of his lung. Crouching, he turned to walk up on sheep in a nearby pen. "That'll do, big dog." At 7 years old, and just that quick, his career was over.

I see age creeping into the frame just now. I know you're still strong and so athletic. Your instincts remain razor sharp and still there's massive presence in your eye. I don't know how I’ll let you go when the time comes. I expect that you will help me with that. But not today, funny boy. Today we have work to do.

Here's an Idea...

Every once in a while something comes along that makes me change my mind. I tend towards the tried and true. I'm conservative, and I really don't like change at all. My dogs have been wearing the same collars for years. For always, actually.  The leather ones with riveted, brass ID tags. I've never tried any other type of collar. That is, however, until I came across these at the Dog Bark Collar Store.

I have the blue one. You should see it on Spottie. I think it sets off his eyes. These collars are made from poly-coated nylon webbing and they're soft, smooth and comfortable in my hand. Leather collars are stiff when you first put them on, and I almost feel sorry for the dogs when they're new. My new collar is impervious to odor. No more collars that look and smell like sheep poop! And they are absolutely water proof, which is a nice feature for a bunch of soppin' wet Border Collies.

These collars are soft and flexible, and because the stainless steel identification tag hooks into the collar instead of attached by rivets, they fit gently around my dog's neck. And you can choose different fonts for the tag. I love that!

Nobody's perfect, though, right? Neither these collars. The ring used to attach a leash hangs perpendicular to the collar instead of being hooked into it like the ID tag. My only complaint, and not enough reason to pass on these. Did I mention the leashes? They. are. beautiful... come in matching colors and 4 or 6 foot lenghts. Wonderful!

I like them! They're pretty, and you know what? I like that too. I'm going to get a few more in different colors. I'm changing, trying something different, shakin' things up. Who knows, you might even see me with a different hairdo one day. The severe ponytail  might have outlived its' usefulness. Try these great collars. Buy several! Accessorize. Yup, that's right...I'm swinging out, and you should too.

6 Reasons Why You're Scared

Spottie's not scared in this picture, but he might look like this if he was

No...not you, as in the ubiquitous you. I mean you as in the dogs. I have no earthly idea why you're scared and would not have insight for you if I did. If you're scared, you're on your own from this blog.

My dogs react differently to different stimuli. Some are afraid of loud noises, some of human emotion. I've had dogs that were afraid of jumping into the truck, walking past 6lb lap-dog, Dexter, my horse, my friends, my sheep for heaven's sake. I've even had a dog that seemed afraid of almost everything.

And then there's those rare few that don't seem to be fazed by anything life throws at them. I like those dogs a lot, but they are few and far between in my experience, there has to be a bit o' luck involved in getting one, and you really have to know what you're doing, or get some good help, to leave it whole.

What about the 5 reasons dogs are scared? Guess what! They are all brought to you by humans.

1. Mechanical contrivances. Shock collars for instance will chill a dog's self-confidence faster than any other method I can think of. They're not fair. They do not give a dog even the slightest chance to right his wrong. Dog makes a mistake, dog becomes torn apart by fear. Give 'em a chance. Everyone learns at their own pace, and some take longer than others. More importantly, some are trained by humans who are better/smarter/more talented trainers than others. Never underestimate your own utter lack of talent on the training field.

2. Timing. Have you ever corrected a dog a scant second after he self-corrected thereby rendering your command and subsequent correction a lie? Yeah...me too. Make this mistake too often, however, and you'll have a dog that has no idea what you want, and is afraid to give it to you. Observe and give your dog, especially your young dog, a chance to be right. Observe closely and wait a sec'.

3. Too much too soon. Go ahead and move that nursery dog up! Hell, she knows how to shed, right? Send them too far too fast. Pit them against difficult sheep, get good and mad when they screw up, demand they drive before they're ready, and by all means, (this one's my personal favorite,) work 'em on cattle. "The dog must always win" is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite handlers, Mr. Tommy Wilson. Well, if you're working your dog over it's head, winning sometimes looks like savage gripping by a dog doing all it can with its' only natural ability, because you rushed past a chance to instill confident skill. Write this down: Not all dogs are cut out to be nursery dogs. Not all nursery dogs are cut out to run in open, and it's OK.

4. Too little too late. Have you ever run your vacuum repeatedly over something that it fails to get, then picked it up and checked it out before throwing it back down to run over with the vacuum some more? Yeah...me too. It's the vacuum's job, right? Many, many times I have watched handlers stand by and watch a dog struggle to accomplish a task while doing absolutely nothing to help. It's a Border Collie for heaven's sakes! It should KNOW HOW by golly. OK, but unless you've actually taught them, they've actually learned how and become adept at it, it's OK to move your feet, and go help. It's more than OK, it's necessary to keep them becoming forever unable out of fear. Not only did they "lose," in their attempt, but YOU got mad at them for trying!

5. Genetics. If there's something about a dog that you don't like, please, please don't breed it! Absolutely adoring your dog, warts and all, is wonderful, but not an acceptable reason for breeding it. A gorgeous outrun, coupled with courage, athleticism, good temperment, stamina, intelligence, clean flanks and willingness are GREAT reasons to breed a dog. You will not get all of these attributes in the offspring of 2 dogs that have a few of each.  Don't breed a dog that's scared to a dog that's not and expect the pups to all be braver than the cowardly parent.  Genetics does not allow for blending. You get 1 or the other.

6. Physical abuse. I have known of so-called trainers who believe you can get more from a dog that's scared than one whos' not. I disagree and if you ever take your dog to a trainer who hits it, chokes it, slams it on the ground, or talks about having done such things to any dog, stow your wallet, use your cell phone and run, don't walk away. Use your cell phone to call Animal Control who likely won't do anything for lack of evidence, but if they get enough complaints about an individual, maybe, just maybe... If I got hit, punched, kicked or thrown to the ground, I'd be scared too. And, while I might do out of fear exactly what you wanted, I would never trust you, so you would never, ever get my full measure.

That'll Do Price



AS PRICE January 3, 2000 - January 17, 2013