Sportsmanship, Welcome, and Attitude

During my recent Rally blitz with Aslan [see November 26 "Two out of Three ... so far"], 
I have had the opportunity to observe many other competitors.  

Today's blog post is a compilation of some recent experiences and some random musings that I need to keep in mind as we begin trialing again soon.


I will say that BY FAR, most Obedience and Rally exhibitors and judges are welcoming of newcomers and encouraging of their competitors.

At one Fall trial, one tough-scoring judge NQd a team, and many of the spectators were shocked!  The woman was in tears, and people rallied around her, encouraging her and giving her hugs.  She seemed somewhat buoyed by the support; I hope she was.

On an earlier Fall trial walk-through, a very successful competitor pointed out to others (including me) things they should watch out for on that day's Rally course.  He didn't have to do that.  I have also assisted others during the walk-through when I noticed that they were practicing the sign incorrectly.  I believe they were as grateful as I was for the assistance.

Children are not always welcomed with open arms at trials.  My eyes get wide when I see a young'un running around, but I know that today's children are tomorrow's competitors and that some folks could not trial if they weren't able to bring their children along.  

At one trial, a young child was helping steward by being the leash runner.  There were instances when she took that job title literally, which caused some consternation among the exhibitors.  She also was crawling around by the ring gate and, at one point, had some food near the ring.  

Aslan, like some other dogs at the trial, has not been around children very often, and little ones make us both nervous.  However, I made a dedicated effort to show Aslan that it was no big deal as, with a smile and a "thank you," I handed her my leash and set up at the start line.  She picked that moment to flop down and start crawling around.  Sigh.  I got Aslan's attention back on me, and all was well.  

After our run, I heard some complaints about the child.  Having decided that I was going to have fun that day -- no matter what -- and that nothing was going to ruin my upbeat attitude, I said, "She's just being a typical kid.  The only way she will learn is if someone helps her understand what is acceptable and what is not."  Not long after, I saw her getting some helpful guidance.  I was pleased.

A shot from Aslan's first Rally Trial

Let's talk about walk-throughs.  In general, most people are considerate.  But there are a few...  Please don't walk up my @$$ and run into me.  Go around me already--sheesh!  

Please know the signs or look them up before the walk-through.  Of course there are going to be times when someone gets confused and needs to stop and think or ask a question.  I get that!  But when, for more than half the signs on the course, you have to ask other people or need to stop and check the Rulebook/Rally app...  Yeah, no.  


As I become more familiar with the exhibitors in this area, I am learning who I don't want to follow and who I don't want following me on the walk-through <lol>.  A walk-through in big classes is kind of like working a drill team.  (I think being part of a canine drill team would be fun!)

Not drill team, but I recently saw a Rally Team event.  What FUN!!  There was cheering, encouragement, and heckling -- all in good fun.  I want to try this sometime!

When you appreciate someone or something at a trial, let the club know!  I recently e-mailed a club's Trial Secretary to pass along my admiration of the wonderful trial stewards, who handled their duties efficiently and, along with the judge, kept things moving quickly in spite of the large number of entries.  I also shared my gratitude for the fabulous new title ribbons offered by the club.  They seemed appreciative of the appreciation :-)

During one trial weekend, another competitor did a good job of messing with my head.  I was unsure whether this was a deliberate sabotage effort or not, and I did not discuss my feelings to anyone else.  My suspicion was confirmed when, without provocation, someone mentioned it to me.  It worked one weekend, but I will do my level best to make sure they never affect me again!  

The kindest episode I saw was late last fall after a young woman had an absolutely horrible run.  I witnessed her doing a couple signs incorrectly, and she was clearly nervous and upset, which seemed to cause her dog to shut down... which, of course, made her more nervous and upset.  It was a non-qualifying run.  

She was in tears, and she scratched from her next two runs.  As the steward talked to her about the situation, a few other people and I joined the conversation.  We all hugged her and told her that she was definitely not alone, and we shared about our own embarrassing moments.  More people joined in and gave her encouragement and advice.  The steward convinced the young woman to stay in the next two classes after all.  Though the runs were not the best, she did qualify and improved her score a little each time.  She was still disappointed but was smiling by the end of the day.  It was a beautiful thing to witness and be a small part of.

Some people would have written her off and said she wasn't ready for that level (and some would have been unkind or even mean).  I am grateful for each person that day who encouraged this girl and helped her so that she didn't give up and hopefully felt better about herself.

One piece of advice I gave to this exhibitor was to smile and laugh even if her dog messes up.  I had an example from my own run earlier in the day.  Aslan was goofing off, and my voice revealed my irritation with him.  I saw his normally happy attitude melt, and I mentally kicked myself, remembering my resolution to have fun no matter what!  So I started laughing at him instead, and he perked up again and got back on track.  

Some people act happy to see you ... until they are with "their" friends.  It's a little like cliques from high-school days.  If you are clearly not welcome in their group, move on.  You do not need those people in your life.

There are people who are not happy unless they are complaining.  It is amazingly easy to fall into the negativity trap, and I found myself doing so on more than one occasion.

Some people know it all about dogs (and everything else).  Smile and let them think they do. :-)  They'll never believe that anyone else could possibly know what they know, and you'll never convince them otherwise.  It would be a waste of time and energy to try.  Save your knowledge for those who truly want to learn.

At the beginning of one trial, a woman approached me, asking if I knew her sister-in-law.  While it's possible I might know her on sight, I did not know her by name.  This woman, who had come to watch her SIL compete, had never been to a Rally Trial before, and she had no idea what was going on.  

Before her SIL arrived, I spent several minutes explaining what would soon be happening in the ring.  She laughed when I told her about exhibitors taking their invisible dogs on the walk-through. Later, after cheering on her SIL's run, she came back over to me and asked if I would like for her to video one of our runs.  I was extremely grateful!  

Later in the day, the competitor thanked me for being so nice to her SIL that morning.  It was truly my pleasure!  I genuinely enjoyed welcoming someone new!  Maybe someday she will decide to give it a whirl with her own dog.

That concludes my attitude overview from the summer and fall Rally trials we attended.  I learned much.  As we soon begin a round of more trials, I plan to frequently remind myself to keep a positive outlook, do not fall into the negativity trap, and above all, have fun with my canine partner!   

Cherish your dogs!
MDW


Photos in this article by Dick Clark Photography.

I wonder what happened to...

I have often said that if I ever wrote my personal memoir, it would be entitled, "Slight Change of Plans."  Last night was a perfect example.

All week I had been looking forward to Friday night, when I had planned to feed me, feed the dogs, pay some bills while the dogs were eating, and then after the dogs had been taken care of, pop some popcorn and settle in to watch a rented movie.

Feed me - Check.
Feed the dogs - Check.
Pay bills - Check. 
And then, about five minutes after I had paid bills and was working on a little budgeting...

Almondine came upstairs SCREAMING.  She was hunched up in pain, and she looked terrified.  I tend to be a wait-and-see dog owner.  I don't rush to the vet for every little thing, and the Emergency Vet is definitely a last resort.  It was close to 7:00 p.m., and my vet had already closed.

I could not determine any cause for Almondine's agony, and though the initial distress had passed quickly, something felt very wrong to me.  I grabbed my coat, my shoes, her collar and leash, and we were on our way within minutes.  

We made it to the Emergency Vet by 7:00 p.m.  In the lobby were a man with a dog and a woman sitting alone.  The receptionist collected our information, and Almondine was taken to the back for triage.  Shortly thereafter, she was returned to me; her vitals were stable, so she could wait in the lobby with me.  

I talk to my dogs.  A lot.  And when we're in a stressful situation, a lot more.  So I was asking Almondine what was wrong with her and generally chit-chatting to her.  The other woman in the lobby caught my eye and smiled at me.  Laughing I said, "Yeah, I talk to my dogs." She laughed and said, "Oh yeah, I do too!"

She told me that her dog was in the back being stitched up and showed me a photo of her dog's face, which had swollen after being bitten by another dog.  It was nothing too serious, but something that needed immediate care.

One of the staff members came around asking everyone if they wanted water or coffee.  When we declined, he grinned, "Gin and tonic?"  The woman grinned back, "Now you tell me!"

The other dog in the lobby seemed to be in good shape except for sporting a bandage on his leg.  Apparently the bandage needed to come off, but the dog wanted to remove the owner's arm in the process.  Oh!

When we arrived, Almondine seemed almost normal except for some panting and that she wasn't walking normally.  The latter was something that most people probably wouldn't notice unless they were intimately familiar with her usual movement.

The longer we were there, the better she seemed.  I am no animal communicator, but there have been a few isolated instances when I am absolutely positive I have heard what my dog had to say as clearly as any human could communicate.  This was one of those special instances, when Almondine told me she wanted to go home.

She appeared normal to me, and I almost acquiesced.  Instead, I told her, "I do, too, but that we are here now, and we are going to see what the vet has to say, because you scared me, and I need to make sure you are okay."

A couple came in carrying a small dog.  He had been attacked by another dog a few days ago and had suddenly become lethargic, and his injury site was swollen.

A second couple came in with a big dog who had been to another vet several months ago after getting into rat poison in the barn.  The dog had not been "right" since, including a dramatic weight loss, and the people were unhappy with the lack of treatment from the other vet.  

The woman whose dog's face was being stitched smiled at me as she and her dog left.  With a twinkle in my eye, I told her, "Enjoy that gin and tonic."

Finally, we were called into a room.  After another long wait, during which Almondine again asked, "Home?" the vet appeared.  She apologized for the long wait.  I appreciated the apology, as I was getting antsy, though I completely understand that since my dog was stable (thank goodness!) that we were lower priority, and that is perfectly fine.

The vet asked lots of questions, and she complimented me on knowing my dog better than a lot of people do.  

Eventual diagnosis was a suspected neck injury.  Restricted activity and a bevy of meds prescribed.  Follow-up visit in a couple weeks with our vet advised.

As we were paying, one receptionist transferred a phone call, relating that the caller was asking if they should bring in their recently spayed dog whose stitches had all come out and whose "insides were coming out" -- or could they wait until Monday and take her to their regular vet?

Yikes.  

The other receptionist and I looked at each other and said, simultaneously, "Bring her in."

While we were checking out, someone was given instructions for checking out the patient whose dog had to be sedated for bandage removal.  So, it looks like that one is okay.

My last two Emergency Vet experiences have resulted in goodbyes, so I experienced immense relief as I pulled out of the parking lot at 9:15 p.m. with Almondine safely in the van.

But I wondered, what about the poor little lethargic dog-attack victim?  Or the tall, skinny, unwell dog?  Did the recently spayed dog's owner heed the recommendation to bring her in, or did they wait?  Is she going to be okay?  Are any of them going home with their owners this night?

Given the fact that I quickly bond with animals I don't even know, and that I tend to be empathic [empathic, not empathetic] in those situations, it is probably best that the other patients' outcomes remain a mystery to me.  

Still, I wonder what happened to...

Cherish your dogs,
MDW

PS - Almondine seems completely fine today.  She is cuddled up beside me as I finish up this post.  Maybe tonight will be movie night?