Teaching a course planned for in-person instruction and abruptly switched on anxious everyones in the middle of a semester is like careening down a narrow dirt road along a mountain — in an RV.
This is a white-knuckle drive for sure.
Therefore, please rest your minds on Miss Maddie from our F Litter and her mom modeling the latest in Pandemic Fashion…
Maddie is 11 years and 7 months young!
Whew! Small uplifts are big things.
Stay Safe!
This is not news to anyone who knows me: I am not a Big Fan of telling dogs what they are (supposedly) doing wrong as a method of training.
This is because — in my experience, observations, etc. — telling a dog (or a human) — she is wrong when we have not explained clearly what is right in a way that they really understand is just kind of mean.
An example — not of meanness! — but just an illustration of what I am saying (or trying to say).
Photo by Suzanne of Sparkle and Daisy, Sundance behind them (to support his dream of a harem ;) and Skylar practicing social distancing.
Somebody had the audacity to ride a horse on the road we use to walk dogs — and apparently forgot the giant garbage bag needed to scoop the poop.
Daisy headed over to restock the probiotics in her gut, which is a nice way to say she was going to eat said horse manure; I instructed her to leave it.
And so she did — because Daisy knows what leave it means.
What if Daisy had eaten it anyway?
I would have acknowledged that my leave it training needed work, and just walked over and interrupted her snack (while gagging).
Not a big deal. Just information.
On the way back, I was distracted and turned to see Sparkle gleefully ROLLING in the giant pile of green road apples.
Since she has not been trained to avoid doing this — and I had not given her any information contrary to her desires — any kind of punishment or error message would have been unfair to Sparkle.
Dogs are not mind readers, after all.
I called Sparkle and she came, pretty darn proud of her new scent.
Suzanne, always able to see the bright side, noted that at least Sparkle wasn’t green. True — and funny.
She still got a bath (Sparkle — not Suzanne).
Ignoring Sparkle’s blissful application of eau de Horse Dung doesn’t make me a good dog trainer — it just means I try to be fair.
Fairness matters to me. A lot.
Error messages in dog training tend to be unfair — but I also believe it is unfair and unkind (and frustrating) to make dog training into a guessing game because we lack the skills and the will to actually train to clear expectations.
If you have gotten this far with me — thank you!
Here is the pandemic part — I think there are a lot of error messages happening these days. We are inundated with “don’t do this and “don’t do that” and “OMG I cannot believe you rolled in that.”
Those messages might be important and may save lives — but they are also a bit of a bummer and not the only (or best) way to convey important information.
I think we might need to change the channel.
Don’t just leaves a vacuum or a void — we some do’s to fill it.
In dog training and in pandemics.
I am good at training dogs in ways that avoid all the “don’ts” — now I am pondering how to apply those skills to this unwanted and scary New Normal we are living.
Life With Dogs — who knew it would offer useful tools for a pandemic?!
Platitudes and Pivots may seem similar — both suggest a directional change, after all. But they are actually quite different.
A platitude is a bit of a scolding, which nobody needs right now.
On the other hand, a pivot is a deliberate and empowering choice. It is, in fact, a self-care strategy.
But — this is important — the pivot happens in the context of honesty and compassion; a platitude is just kind of mean.
An example…
I had big plans for Claire in 2020.
Claire’s Big Plan: Chase more balls.
I spent months and months fine tuning her obedience skills — an entire year, in fact. I intentionally did not finish her CD in 2019 after her amazing performance at the last Specialty. I knew — after 25+ years of doing this — that Claire has the potential to be a High in Trial dog.
And so I was training specifically for the 2020 Specialty, and had her other obedience shows mapped out based on her High in Trial potential.
But that is not all.
Claire had early and often breed ring success. She finished her championship ridiculously easily at 17 months, and got a group placement soon after.
Her Grand Championship was also easy peasy, and completed at like 20 months. One memorable Best of Breed was over ten or eleven Specials, including at least one ranked male.
All that as an adolescent — and always owner-handled.
And so maybe you can understand why I see some fun potential in this dog.
Then I did something that is really hard for me: I practiced patience. I let her grow up — and we trained. And trained.
Claire is now three and ready to sparkle and shine. 2020 was to be her year.
Spring snow — yep.
Cue the pandemic.
Dog events might not be your thing but I bet you have a thing or two that has been disrupted, and so you can maybe relate to what this might feel like to me.
A platitude would look like this: “Self, at least Claire is young and you can show her again — someday (knock on wood).” Or how about: “Self — quit moping about this and get a real problem — people are sick and dying out there.”
Platitudes are both ineffective and additive — they don’t help us cope with hard feelings, and they toss Shame into the emotional stew.
The pivot is different. It is based on honesty and self-compassion. I acknowledge and feel my feelings: sadness, disappointment, regret, and so on. I recognize those emotions as the normal response to my lost dreams, and I create space to sit with them.
And then I pivot.
I make a conscious choice to turn in a different emotional direction. But because I have given all those feelings their due, Sadness, Disappointment, and the rest of that crowd are not yelling in one ear while Shame shrieks in the other.
Nope. Those feelings just needed to be felt. That is the nature of feelings.
Platitudes try to ignore feelings — to dismiss them as unworthy, and the Feeler as shameful for feeling them.
Pivots build a foundation on feelings. They are a choice made because of feelings — not in spite of them.
And so I felt my feelings — and I pivoted.
This is getting long and so I end by saying this about that — Perspective is a related topic for another day.
In the meantime, cry those tears for your lost opportunities and when you are ready and able — consider a pivot.
Stay safe and distant and well. And together. We got this.