Epic Failure....And Extraordinary Kindness
Today Jet and I failed a hunt test.
It is not the first test we have failed (even though we have only run two Senior level tests so far), and I know it will not be the last. But the experience was like none other I think I have ever had in my time competing with dogs. The only thing that comes close was the time I was running agility with Casey Mae early in our career and I did a spectacular front cross right into the wing of a jump. Down I crashed, with the wing tangled in my legs. CM came over to me as if to ask: “what in the world are you doing?” Once it was established that the only injury was to my ego, the judge asked me if I wanted to go on and complete the course. I was surprised. I didn’t even think that would be allowed, but I took her up on her offer and finished it out.
I have been field training with Jet since he was a puppy. His energy and enthusiasm for the game have always been boundless. He obtained his Junior Hunter title in four straight passes at the age of 18 months. The Junior Hunter test requires two single retrieves on land and two single retrieves on water. You hold the dog by the collar and let him go when the bird lands. As long as you don’t let go too early and the dog delivers to hand, you get a pass. Four such passes earns the dog the Junior Hunter title.
The next level, Senior Hunter, requires double marked retrieves on land and water. Meaning, the dog needs to sit through two birds going down before being released. In addition, dogs are required to do a land blind and a water blind. Blinds are planted birds that the dog does not see. As the handler, I need to direct him to the bird with a series of “casts” or arm movements. If he is going the wrong way, I need to get him to sit on a single whistle blast so that I can redirect him. There are other aspects to the Senior Hunter test, including a “walk up” where I walk with Jet as a bird is launched and shot. He needs to sit until released to go. Another concept in the Senior test is “honoring” where the dog is required to sit through birds being launched for the next dog.
At this stage of the game, it’s all about control.
Jet got his Junior Hunter title two and a half years ago. I had lofty goals for him back then. As we began to slog it out learning all these new concepts for the Senior level, I discovered that what we all originally thought was tremendous drive, was, in reality, some very good drive wrapped up in excessive nervous energy. Since making that discovery, I have been working hard in every venue in which we train, to manage and focus that energy.
It has not been easy.
Last summer, we suffered significant setbacks. As we made our way through the normal progression of drills and field exercises, he simply was not making the progress that is typical for most dogs going through this training. Most significantly, he lacked confidence to go out on a blind. I would line him up and say “dead bird,” which is the cue for a dog to look straight out for the bird. Instead of looking straight out, Jet would start to look everywhere for that bird. Friends and trainers labeled him the “bobble head,” as he simply could not settle down to focus straight out. I could never get to the all important “BACK” command, as his head would never stop moving for me to send him out.
So we went back and retrained on simple concepts. We did this week after week. His marking fell apart, along with his confidence for doing all of it. He sure tried hard, but he just couldn’t do the things he was going to have to be able to do in a Senior test.
With Minnesota winters, training falls off. We did not do much. However, in January, after an obedience lesson, I planted a dead duck I had brought along and sent him on a long cold blind in the snow. It was not pretty, but we got there. Then when it got warm and the snow melted from the park, I set up a couple more and he ran them with confidence.
When it came time for our annual spring training trip, I happened to spot a hunt test being held where we had trained last year. I knew it was premature, but I decided to enter. I needed to regain MY confidence to be able to handle him in public again.
We had a great training week. His marking was excellent and I actually ran some water blinds with him, something I had very little success with last summer. The catch was that I was totally dependent on the e-collar to correct him when he did not respond to my whistles or casts. That said, the transformation from a year ago was remarkable, and I headed for the test feeling at least that I would not embarrass myself.
Saturday, we completed the land series and while he did a great job on his marks, his blind was pretty bad. To my surprise, we were called back to the water series. When I saw the set up for water, I cringed. It was a tiny pond with birds falling within 30 yards and making big splashes. During training earlier in the week, Jet had been unable to remain seated while the bumpers were tossed in the water and rushed in prior to being sent. This is called a break. In the Saturday water series, he broke on the first bird, but I was able to get him back. In Senior, you are allowed one “controlled break.” After getting him back, I neglected to actually tell him to sit, the second bird was launched and he was off to the bird before I could even get any commands out of my mouth. So that was our Saturday fail. I never even got the opportunity to determine if he could do a water blind, as we leashed up for the honor. That, in and of itself was like trying to control a bucking bronco. I was humiliated, but not surprised.
Today, our land series did not go well and again, I felt we should have been dropped. I had to handle him to his second bird, and did not do it quite correctly, even though he got the bird. As he came in, one of the judges said to me, “don’t worry, you’re still in it.” They then explained to me how I had not handled correctly, but told me they wanted to see his water work. Inside, I just shuddered. But after Saturday’s experience, I had a plan for how I was going to handle his shenanigans. If he broke, I was going to call him in, leash him up, and that was going to be the end of it.
As we gathered for the briefing for the water series, I was struck by how generous these judges were with their time and their explanations of things that they observed in the land series that would often be cause for disqualification. They then told us that, for them, it is about the teamwork with the dog and the effort the handler is making to continue to work with the dog, despite what terrible things might be happening. As they were noting all the things that would likely get a team dropped, I was making mental note of how I was going to try to get Jet from one holding blind to the next without careening into the judges’ tent or the duck holder, even into the pond.
But then, as I went to get my dog, I marveled to myself at how fortunate I was to even be in this position: to have an opportunity to work with him one more time, on water, in test conditions.
As we started down the hill, Jet began barking joyfully, as he is wont to do. I hissed at him to be quiet as we continued to the first holding blind. I knew he was exhausted. We had traveled almost four hours on Friday, run the test Saturday and now were in a spot where he probably figured it was time for some good old fun in the water. As we moved into the final holding blind, I was certain his excited/nervous panting was drowning out any conversation the judges might have been trying to have. I sat him in the blind and waited for the dog before us to come out of the water and move into the honor spot.
As I removed his lead and shoved it into my pocket, I felt immediate gratitude that he did not take that opportunity to jump into the pond. We were less than ten feet from the shore. When invited by the judge, I grabbed the handler’s gun and we slowly made our way toward the water’s edge. I should explain that this was to be a walk up, meaning at some point a shot was going to fire and a bird was going to land in the water. He would need to sit while the second bird was thrown before he would be allowed to leave.
As the shot went off, I tweeted my whistle and we stopped, Jet trembling in a crouched position (his version of sit). I slowly swung around for the second bird. It was launched, it splashed, and he was in the water. I shouted “HERE” and whistled. He came back out. It was a controlled break. I then sent him, but he went for the first bird instead of the second. As he swam out confidently, I smiled at the judge and said, “well, that’s that.” She advised me to just breathe and relax while he was on his way.
When he returned with the first one, I lined him up for the second one. Unfortunately, his break had interfered with his memory, so when I sent him on his name (which we do for marks), he floundered around in the water and came back to the bank. I tried again, to no avail. At this point, the judge said, “just handle him.” So I gave him the BACK command, which we struggled with for an entire summer. And in he went. I was overjoyed. The judge also conveyed her enthusiasm and I got him to that bird with just a few casts.
At this point I figured we would be done, as we were the day before. But this judge said, “you are going to get that blind.” At this point I was stunned. Tests are not about training. And dogs are not to be rewarded for doing things incorrectly. But this judge wanted us to have our blind.
When Jet came back from that second long swim and gave up the bird, he laid down. I knew he was running out of gas. But we had to press on. Not for a pass, but for this judge, who was giving us the opportunity of a lifetime. It seemed to take forever to set him up. He was engaging in avoidance behavior. The gallery was watching. I felt like jumping in the pond and getting the bird for him. But we finally lined up and I kicked him off with the BACK command.
In he went. On a water blind. With no collar pressure. In a test.
Once he was in a ways, he started bee lining for where the previous bird had been. The next few minutes became surreal as the judge coached me through handling him off of that prior fall and over to the other bank where the blind was planted. There was more than one time I was convinced I was going to just need to call him back in. But this judge would not allow it. WE handled Jet to that blind.
It might have been at this point that I first felt the tears sliding out from under my sunglasses. I know I told her that she had been more than kind. Her response was that this is all supposed to be FUN.
As I put the lead on to go to the honor spot (which is what you do when you have failed), she told me to put the lead in my pocket. At this point I thought perhaps she had lost her mind. But she said it again, and so I had to obey. That, too, was pretty ugly. I actually grabbed at his scruff as he almost bolted on the second bird down. But the working dog was released and we were finally excused.
As I made my way back up the hill, I was overcome by so many emotions. I was ashamed of what people in the gallery might have thought of a judge actually HELPING a competitor who clearly had failed the test. I was confused as to why she might have chosen to do what she did. But in the end, I was overwhelmed by her generosity of spirit. By her kindness. By her courage and willingness to fly in the face of tradition in this particular event.
And then the tears really came. Unsolicited kindness will get me every time.
There’s the saying that life is about opportunities. I will never forget and forever be grateful for this one.