Secret Dog Performance Enhancement Kit

Good friend Josh decided to accompany us for both days of the agility trial. It meant he had to be up and out at 6:30 a.m.
"I warn you Josh," I told him, "If you are not out there ready when we drive by, I will leave without you."
I take my nervous anxiety seriously. But Josh was up and ready and turned out to be a secret weapon in our Dog Performance Enhancement kit. Josh is incapable of being serious, at least as far as I have ever seen. Thus, he is a constant stream of entertainment. This had the very favorable effect of keeping Asherel very calm and relaxed. In some mother's eyes, she may have seemed a little too calm and relaxed and thus Danielle, another secret weapon in our Dog Performance Kit, came when she could to sit with me as Asherel's trial run times approached. She would pat my knee and say, "It's ok. It's still early. Calm down. Eating 50 gummy bears right before her run will not hurt her."
By the way, Danielle had showed up when we first arrived with a 6 pound bag of gummy bears for Asherel. She wanted to counteract the "mother hover effect" with sugar, a very sound strategy, at least in Asherel's eyes.

Meanwhile, good friend and mentor, Polly, watched the preceding day video of Asherel's very nice but non-qualifying run, and texted me:
"She needs to draw the line better for her dog. Nice run, but remind her to draw the line."
I told Asherel what Polly had said, as Josh listened.
"You need a laser pointer," said Josh, "Are you allowed to bring in a laser pointer?"
"Just imagine you have a laser pointer," I told Asherel, "Draw the path you want Honeybun to follow."
As Asherel got up and gathered the rewards and dear Honeybun, Josh and I chanted, "Draw the line. Laser pointer."
Asherel and Honeybun then ran the prettiest jumpers course she has ever run. Fast and no mistakes at all. Honeybun did briefly stop at one point, and consider defecting, but then went slowly to the weaves and nailed them the first time- a rarity for her. She not only qualified in Open Jumpers, thus securing her Open Jumpers Title and advancing to Excellent Level, but she placed second overall!

Time for her second run came- her Open Standard run. Honeybun never does as well with the standard classes, which include all the agility equipment, some of which we don't have at home thus can only infrequently practice.
Danielle showed up and sat beside me.
"Asherel, don't you think you should head down there?" I fretted.
"She's fine," said Danielle soothingly.
As she walked the course, Josh stood up in the stands and bellowed out to her, "Laser pointer!!!!"
Asherel looked up, and shook her head laughing. Had I been the one to shout that, I guarantee she would have been digging a hole to China. She returned from walking before the time was up.
"What are you doing back here?" I asked, "You should be walking til your time runs out."
"I tried to tell her that," said Josh knowingly, shaking his head at her, "You should walk it til you can close your eyes and see the course."
Josh has never run agility, but he was right on.
"OK," grumbled Asherel, returning to walk the course.
"Laser pointer!" called Josh.
When she returned, Josh, who had been studying the course map, quizzed her.
"What obstacle do you go to after jump 13?"
"14?"
"What is 14?"
"The teeter," said Asherel.
"Very good!"
She again gathered Honeybun and headed down to the field.
"Laser pointer!" called Josh. I was too busy chewing my nails to say anything, and Danielle was repeating her mantra when she is around me at Agility trials:
"It's ok, she's fine...."
"But she never does well in standard..."
"But maybe she will," said Danielle, looking at me sternly.
"You're right!" I said, grasping her arm, "Maybe she will!" I settled back, wishing I were a calmer, more optimistic person.
Asherel walked onto the field. Honeybun was looking all around, everywhere except at Asherel.
"Oh no!" I said, "She is not paying attention."
"She will," said Danielle, "It's ok."
Honeybun looked at Asherel.
"Go," said the loudspeaker.
Honeybun barreled through the tire jump start. The first 6 or so obstacles went just as planned. Then she came to the weaves, her nemesis. She got half way through and then popped out of them.
"Oh dear!" I groaned.
"It's ok," said Danielle, "That's only one refusal. She can have one refusal."
Honeybun ran through the weaves beautifully on her second try. Then she raced to the "pause table" . She skittered onto it, and slid off.
"Ohhhhh! She never does that!" I groaned.
"It's ok," said Danielle, "That is a different error than a refusal. She can have two different mistakes in Open level. She can still qualify."
I nodded, and we both fell silent. She had to be perfect the rest of the run. And she was. Honeybun hit every obstacle beautifully after that, and as she sailed over the last jump, Danielle said, "I think she qualified."
Asherel assumed she had not, but she came back pleased with a good run.
I hurried over to the computer read out.
I saw that not only did she have a big fat Q after her name, but she placed third! And this was a major milestone in Honeybun's agility career. She had "double Q'ed",  the only time she has ever qualified in both her classes on a single day.
I came hurrying back to Asherel and her entourage.
"You q'ed!" I cried joygully, "You just got your first ever double Q!!"
Danielle smiled and said, "Good run, Asherel. And congrats on your new title."
"Oh does she get a title ribbon?" I asked, "Where do we go to get our ribbon?"
"Our ribbon?" asked Danielle, raising an eyebrow.

Later, I posted the perfect Open run video on facebook. The rescue group who three years ago had helped us when we found Honeybun, a boney aggressive mess, cheered and then reposted it on their farm page.
"The stray that became a star..." wrote Hollow Creek Farm.

In retrospect, I think saying OUR ribbon was perfectly apt. It is a ribbon that was earned by Hollow Creek Farm, Josh, Polly, Danielle, Laura, and all our other agility trainers, Asherel, Honeybun...and yes, even me. After all, I have to drive her to every practice...that counts for something, doesn't it?

God is so gracious. The double Q was very nice, and certainly a thrill, but that was not the real joy of the two days. The joy was sitting and laughing with friends, cheering them on and being cheered on, encouraging and being encouraged, and joining together in a common love. As a child, I had few friends. As an adult, I find myself encircled by support, even by people who know what a mess I am inside. My advice to everyone today- tell your friends how much you love and appreciate them. They are one of God's best tools in His  Human Performance Enhancement Kit, critical for any and every trial.

Proverbs 12: 25-26
²⁵ Anxiety weighs down the heart,
   but a kind word cheers it up.   
²⁶ The righteous choose their friends carefully,

A Good Day to be Ambassadors

Nice little break from school- we are off to two days of dog agility trials. Honeybun looks relaxed- snoring next to me as I write this. I think she may have stolen Lucky's breakfast too, so her fine athletic waist seems a little distended. Oh well. What matters, what really matters is that she and Asherel have fun, meet fellow dog lovers, and are ambassadors of light.
Honeybun perks an ear.
"What is this ambassador stuff? I am a dog and my duty is to jump satisfactorily enough that you pay me at the end with real sirloin."
"We are all ambassadors. This is not home. We are to conduct ourselves in such a way, that the whole world longs for our real home."
"The whole world? You been eating too many dog bones, Master. What about immigration quotas?"
"There are none in the land where we are headed,the one I hope we represent. Everyone who wants to can enter."
"You are speaking Greek," says the dog, closing her eyes again, "As if human English weren't difficult enough to understand."

That's what I hope is the outcome of our adventure today, I thought. Lord, help me and Asherel (and yes, even Honeybun) to be ambassadors that show the beauty, mercy, and grace of my King so convincingly that everyone will be clamoring to follow Him.
"You don't expect much out of ordinary events, do you?" asked Honeybun, opening one eye again, "Can't I just win a blue ribbon instead?"
"Well my plan doesn't preclude yours," I told her.
"Fine, you collect trophies for heaven, leave the earthly trophies to me."
We will keep you posted on how well each of us conducts our mission....

2 Corinthians 5: 19-21
¹⁹ that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. ²⁰ We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. ²¹ God made him who had no sin to be sin^[a] for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Que Sera, Sera

I heard people grumbling as the first few dogs came off the course. The several inch layer of sand that had been unexpectedly covered over the hard pack dirt might have been fine for horses- but the agility handlers and their dogs were straining to run. Most of the dogs were disqualified or dropping bars on jumps they rarely miss. Asherel and Honeybun rocketed off the start line, exuberant and excited, and then it was clear that Asherel could hardly move. Honeybun was leaping and running, but leaving poor Asherel in the dust. Somehow they finished the course admirably, but Asherel was breathless and distraught, "I can't run in that!"
"Well, you did a very good job considering, and since you can't change it, just enjoy the next runs for what they are. Don't worry about doing well, just have fun and learn new things."

It was not the fault of  my dog club, who was sponsoring the event. They had rented the facility  with the nice hard pack dirt surface long ago, and were informed the night before the trial that the expected hard pack surface was now sand covered. The participants had long ago sent the checks, made hotel reservations, and packed their dogs for the trial. There was no way my club could change plans now. They hoped the surface wouldn't be as bad as it seemed likely to be.

The grumbling escalated. Several handlers told the organizers they were going home. I was in charge of finding workers for the first two classes. Since I looked official, with clip board and microphone in hand, I was a target for some of the frustration.
"I just wasted $400 on this weekend," said one upset lady, "They can just have my entry fee, but I am going home. I can't risk my knees or my dogs, running on this surface."
I glanced at my unfilled worker clipboard, "Oh...would you want to work the next class then? We need a ring crew..."
The woman glared at me and shook her head, storming off.
"Is that a 'no' then?" I called after her.

Finally, the judges and organizers called a powwow. There was a plot of grass outside the sand covered arena. If they used just one ring instead of two, meaning the show would take twice as long, they could move all the equipment to the grass. Everyone there had to unanimously agree to this change, or they would just slog along with the dangerous and impossible sand surface. There was one dissenter, and the whole new scheme was almost tabled, but then the dissenter was dipped in boiling tar, and surprisingly changed her mind. The entire mob of dog handlers now moved together to take down the temporary fence encircling the sand ring, and erect it around the grass ring. The heavy equipment was moved piece by piece, with the hundred or so participants each swarming about with agility jumps, tunnels, chutes, tables, A-frames, teeters, and numbered cones in hand, like army ants. Within less than an hour, the show continued on the grass field.

Many people still went home.  They didn't want to have to wait several hours (for some) between their classes. We ourselves had two to three hours between each of our three classes, but it was a beautiful, warm sunny day. There was some consternation that the show might not end til after dark, and Asherel might miss the party she was so anxious to attend with fellow homeschoolers that night. Still, it was hard to not be cheery in 70 degree sunshine, under blue skies in the middle of a quiet peaceful country. The show was at an animal farm, and I took a break and walked for an hour, looping along paths with zebra, ostriches, camels, potbellied pigs, guinea hens, turkeys, emus, and horses. The rest of the time, I worked all the classes except the ones Asherel was running in. Shockingly, Honeybun did not seem interested in all the animals, and was wonderfully focused on Asherel. She missed her first attempt at the Weaves in the Open Standard class, but then nailed it on the second try. That was the only mistake she made and in Open level, one mistake at the weaves is allowed. We suspected she had Qualified. (Qualifying means the dog performed with no more than two mistakes in the open class, and within the time limit, without knocking down any jumps. When a dog qualifies enough times at each level, he moves to the next higher level.) The crowd that remained was remarkably happy, and enjoying the slow pace of the one ring agility trial. It had all seemed so awful at first, with so many unhappy people and that impossible situation. Now, we all had sunburnt noses, and were sitting in our chairs on the grassy field, basking in the sun and watching each dog as it ran the course, cheering in unison when it finished. No one was grumbling anymore, and despite the long day, it had all gone smoothly. I think, it was even nicer out there rather than in the covered arena anyway,  there on the sunny field, with the exotic animals dotting the adjacent pastures. Not only had the mutiny been quelled, but the mutineers were all smiling.

And then, the last class of the day, as the handlers were walking the course, they all broke out spontaneously into song.
"Que sera, sera," they sang, "Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see, Que Sera, Sera! What will be, will be."

I had been in the bathroom at the time, but I heard the voices swell together, and I laughed. How wonderfully these fine people had tackled adversity, and made the best of a disappointing situation. I love that song and it reminded me of a favorite prayer: "God grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen."

Then, I checked Asherel's score on the computer at the judges' table- she had indeed Qualified...and won first place.

 Isaiah 29:24:
Those who err in spirit will come to understanding, and those who
grumble will accept instruction.

Joshua 1: 16,17
...“Whatever you have commanded us we will do, and wherever you send us we will go. ¹⁷ ...Only may the LORD your God be with you....

Waking to dog noses

"Ugh....5:30.....why are we so gung-ho about dog agility trials?"
Meanwhile, Honeybun was wagging her tail, "Oh boy! 5:30 and she is getting up! I get breakfast an hour early!!!!"

(by the way, did you know the origin of the phrase "gung ho" is Mandarin and had to do with the Chinese call to rebuild and thrive when the Japanese destroyed their factories? It translates to "work together.")

It didn't help the waking up and acting like there was sunshine in my cup with the fact that the neurotic dog, Lucky, had felt it necessary to tell me repeatedly through the stormy night, "There are thunderstorms lurking everywhere." Then he would stick his cold wet nose in my formerly sleeping face. I think I slept about 5 minutes last night, in between two thunderclaps.

After breakfast, Honeybun crashed back in her bed. Meanwhile, I am trying to rub the bags out from under my eyes with hydrochloric acid.  Fortunately, I will be all weekend in the presence of dog people. Dog people aren't looking at the dog owners anyway. Dark circles the size of Texas under my eyes won't be noticed.

And really, having hit another  birthday milestone yesterday, I think I should be praising God for every day I awaken. I should be doing that no matter how cranky I feel, or how early the morning shows up.

But just for the record, I am hoping that there will be no thunderstorms tonight. Gung ho! Off to the trial!

 1 Samuel 26:12
No one saw or knew about it, nor did anyone wake up. They were all sleeping, because the LORD had put them into a deep sleep.

Never ending supply of woes

I think Honeybun spent our 12 days away from her by gnawing on her toes. As a result, when we brought her to the vet for all her yearly vaccines and mentioned we'd noticed a small sore between her toes, the vet noticed a swollen pad and small sores we had not. The vet was a sweet young thing, far too young to have graduated from anything but elementary school to my eyes, and told us that it was likely due to some allergy, either food or environmental.  Honeybun had already faced the degradation of having her anal glands manually expressed, a function that in my opinion, no dog should ever ever be unable to perform on their own. And now, she was itching herself out of an agility job, with her chewing at her paws.  Of course, when I told Asherel, she was delighted, "Does this mean I can get her dog booties?"

Honeybun has hats, dresses, coats, shirts, PJs and even a dog swimsuit, but I have drawn a line in the sand over dog shoes. Ironically, they might actually not be a bad idea....

So armed with a bag of medicines, including instructions for daily foot soaks that involve keeping her paw in a cup of warm medicine soak for 5-10 minutes, we headed home. Honeybun looked depressed, despite the fact that Asherel had bought her a cute pink hat that said, "I'm Perfect". I think she suspected agility training would be suspended for a few days, and she doesn't necessarily love the agility part, but she does love the food rewards. Meanwhile, we are also dosing her with benadryl. If it is a food allergy, this won't help, but if environmental it will.

So foot soak time arrived and I had Asherel straight jacket Honeybun in a tight football hold against her chest. The five minutes were still the slowest 5 minutes in history. First, Honeybun was sure the foot soak was edible and kept trying desperately to escape the throttle hold so she could eat the bowl of medicine. Then she finally acquiesced- tail slung between her legs, ears back, face pathetically woebegone.  As the 5 minutes thankfully elapsed, I lifted the foot to apply the topical medicine. That was when I realized I had soaked the wrong foot.

I had just exchanged a series of emails with a sweet dear friend who makes Job's troubles sound like play time.  She said many profound things, one of which was that she didn't know what God was trying to teach her, but knew that understanding was not needed to claim His grace.  What a beautiful thought!  So much we don't understand. There would be no Grace were it contingent upon understanding.

I know some things are clear about trials. God almost never explains His purpose specifically but He always supplies His presence through them. They may appear otherwise, but are always administered in love from Someone with a perspective we cannot have.  What often looks like the worst thing that could happen to us, can turn out to be the pivotal moment of growth, self awareness, clarification of who we are in the essence of our relationship with God and with others. They are rarely easy, but they always change our character and our perspective....whether for better or for worse seems to be something that we can control and I suspect is at the core of God's purpose in sending them.

 This morning when I looked at Honeybun's foot, the sore was gone. The pad seemed much better, and the Benadryl seems to have helped her itchiness. I know my friend probably didn't awaken to a trouble free morning, but I know she still nestled in God's football hold as she faced the soaking struggles of the day.

2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

The Master's Call

It is true you learn more from failure than success and in the end, if you persevere, you will look back with perhaps more fondness on how you dealt with failure. At the time of failure, "fondness" is not how I would usually describe my emotions.

Honeybun afforded us many opportunities to learn to cope with failure this weekend. Day 2 of the Agility Trials Honeybun had two events- Standard and Jumpers. Standard is the class she had on Day 1 when she had so much trouble with the weaves and ran out of time. It has all the crazy dog agility equipment, including the "chute" which Honeybun had seen a grand total of once in her life. Jumpers class is a series of jumps and tunnels. That was her last class of the day.

Our wonderful mentor Polly again walked with Asherel during the course walk time and gave her some advice to help with the weaves. She also told her, as Asherel had already decided, that if she didn't get the weaves within 2 or 3 tries, move on. Practice doing the full course. I stayed in my seat since in her first class, she seemed to be looking for me when I tried to hide. It started well. She cleared some jumps, and then walked tentatively across the dog walk- the apparatus she had fallen off yesterday. Next, on to the tire jump, the tunnel- then to the weaves. I held my breath.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Honeybun skipped through all 12 weaves perfectly on the first try. Then to the pause table.... and then the chute. The chute is like a barrel with a long cloth tube attached to one end. The cloth lies flat on the ground and the dog runs into the barrel and balloons through the cloth. The dog can't see where she is going or where she will come out. She has to totally trust her master's voice. Honeybun raced into the chute and I was breathless with joy. I had assumed that in the stress of the real trial, she would never approach a piece of equipment she had seen but once, a year ago. The cloth billowed as she ran through it... and then the lump in the cloth went slower and slower... and stopped. It was clear that the dog in the chute, in the darkness, in total unfamiliar territory was thinking, "If I turn around, I think I have a chance of surviving as the hell I know is better than the heaven that may or may not be out there...." However, her master was at the spooky, amorphous end calling her. The lump in the shoot began to move slowly towards the Voice, and then burst out the end. She cleared her next 2 jumps and turned towards the A-frame. At that moment, we think she saw me, and remembered I had food.... and with just the A-frame and 2 jumps left on a clean run, she darted out of the ring. She scampered up the steps into the grandstands, passing several dogs.

Please do not kill any dogs, I was praying as I raced towards her. A man caught her and held her as I raced up. Polly came racing over and told me,"Don't reward her!" We of course cannot reward her leaving the ring, a potentially very dangerous habit, but I felt bad nonetheless as she had done the first 3/4ths of the run magnificently. However, Asherel was happy. It was a better run by far than the first day, and she had done perfectly up to that point of leaving the ring.

When it was time for her jumper class, Polly again walked with her, and told her she needed to get Honey's attention from the moment she was waiting on deck. Polly gave her some string cheese and told her to keep Honey's eyes on Asherel's face the whole time she was waiting with continual rewards of string cheese. Honey LOVES string cheese. I hid behind a concrete wall, and peeked around every so often, camera ready. I laughed at the riveted attention Honey had on Asherel while they were waiting. At that point I didn't know what Polly had done, but it sure had gotten our dog's focus in line.

And she was a different dog when she stood at the start. She was keenly focused on Asherel. She had to clear 14 jumps in correct order as well as a tunnel. She was allowed 37 seconds to do so. She was perfect, though not as fast as she usually is, but at the second to last jump, she tried to run around it, and Asherel calmly called her back... and after another hesitation, HOneybun jumped that and then cleared the last jump.... a perfect round! She tried to run out of the ring again, but Polly had stationed herself there and grabbed her. We were all exultant. Polly told us now we were beginning to understand what it was to "partner" with your dog. She was 4 seconds over course time, a 4 point deduction, but otherwise perfect. We could not have been prouder! We shoveled yesterday's food rewards and today's food rewards into the happy dog's mouth and settled down to watch Polly's last run.

Then I meandered over to the judge's table to see where Honeybun had placed in the class. She had won second place! Failure may teach you wonderful things, but it is sure nice to have it coupled with the joy of success. I think the turning point at that trial may not have been in that perfect class though. I think it was when Honeybun was in the chute, surrounded by darkness, and she chose to brave the darkness and follow her Master's voice.

John 10:27-28
²⁷My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. ²⁸I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.

Weaving Heavenly Hills

We are going to the lovely mountains of Asheville for an Agility Trial this weekend. Honeybun has done one trial thus far, and did very well, but only did a "jumpers" class. All she had to negotiate were jumps and tunnels. This weekend she will also do the "standard" class- where she will have to jump, tunnel, go up and down a pivoting "teeter", up and down a 9 foot A-frame, "pause" and lie down on command on a low table, and finally (drum roll), weave in and out of a series of 12 poles entering from the right and not skipping any.... the dreaded weaves.

While even for most dogs this feat is daunting, it is particularly amazing for Honeybun. For the one or two people on the planet that don't know the story of Honeybun, my book is hopefully going to be published soon (the famous "soon" of a few blogs ago which is defined as "somewhere between now and eternity.")

We found Honeybun on a roadside, nearly dead of starvation and recent motherhood, not to mention tick infestation. We didn't want another dog, but apparently God had other plans and wanted to introduce us in a dramatic way to the world of animal rescue. Upon recovering her health, Honeybun became vicious, first trying to kill our other dog Lucky, and then determined to kill any visitor who dared ring the doorbell. Despite desperately wanting to get out of this impossible situation, I was stuck by a stinging conscience that kept insisting even this discarded, vicious, money-pit of a dumped mongrel had value in God's eyes and I could not send her off to Animal Control and certain death. And then Hollow Creek Farm found me. Hollow Creek Farm was created on the 8th day, a little known fact that the Bible neglects to mention. As soon as God saw what a mess we humans were doing with our job of overseeing the animals He put in our care, He saw the need for Hollow Creek Farm(HCF). HCF came for several months to help teach me that not only does every dog deserve a chance, but the ones that are extended such grace often surprise you with blessings far beyond what you could imagine.

Not only was Honeybun completely healed and rehabilitated, but she is now training and competing in Agility trials, off leash, dogs and peoples surrounding her, and she follows the directions of a 12 year old, Asherel, to do all those crazy things I listed in the first paragraph.

I hope she does well. I hope she manages to weave the 12 weave poles perfectly, though she has never done them perfectly on the first try at practice....

However, both Asherel and I know that every day that passes with this little dog who is now Lucky's best friend, and who greets everyone with a wagging tail is a miracle. And maybe the biggest miracle is the lesson that nothing God creates is junk. It all has value, and a purpose, and whatever we do for the least of us, we do for Him.

Matthew 10:42
And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward.

When Losers are Winners

We spent the day yesterday helping out at our dog club agility trials. Honeybun couldn't enter since it is an AKC trial, and her breed is not an accepted AKC breed. Starting next month, the rules change and she will be able to compete against the blue bloods.... but for now, we are just giving a little back to the dog club that has been an enormous help to us through the very difficult first months of rescuing Honeybun.

Our jobs, replacing dropped bars on the jumps when the dogs knocked them, afforded us front row views of owners and dogs as they enter and leave the ring. What happened in between was not nearly so revealing of the character of the owner, than how she entered and how she left.

When the handler enters the ring, she removes the dog's leash and then tosses it nearby. A leash runner takes it and deposits it on the exit end of the ring. Most owners just toss the leash. A very few look take the time to look the leash runner in the eye, say "Thank you" and hand them the leash. (over the course of a class or two, you'd be amazed how sore one gets bending over time and time again to pick up the leash). Those owners already receive points from me, though it is hardly an expected courtesy, and most handlers are far too focused or nervous to be considerate of the leash runner.

Next the owners go through their dog set up time and it is as varied as the handlers. Most are very no-nonsense, with stern commands to the dog to wait as the handler marches a few jumps away. A very few kiss the dog's snout, muss their hair, and laugh, telling the dog how wonderful they are and what an adventure they are about to have. They are often, but not always the handlers that hand the leash runner the leash instead of tossing it on the ground. Again, those are the owners I now award more points to.

Then the dog runs the course. Since I am planted in between the entrance and exit, and help with setting jumps and leash running, I see some of the dog's run,but my focus is on the start and end. However, I do notice which dogs clear everything (no jumps for me to reset) and the dogs that blow everything, going off course, not listening, dumping bars....

Now the handler and dog exit. They have completed their run. Of course every owner whose dog did fantastically well scoops the dog up and jumps for joy and runs to get him goodies galore. That is expected and easy. It is with the most interest that I observe the handler of the dog that let him down. That saga begins in the last few seconds of the run. Some handlers, obviously disgusted send the dog over the last jump, which he may or may not jump since he is clearly not doing his best that day, and then the handler snaps the leash on gruffly, and marches out without speaking to the dog. The dog invariably is looking hopefully at its master, its ears lowered because it knows it has not met expectations.

And then there is the other type of handler. As the dog has crashed into every jump, done the course in reverse, and lost hundreds of points, in the last few seconds of the run, the handler finds a jump or obstacle he knows the dog will succeed at. He sends the dog victoriously over that one jump, and as they cross the finish, he falls to his knees, kisses the dog and tells him he is the most wonderful creature on earth, and what a fantastic job he did! The dog is leaping for joy and all is right with the world, though he has just garnered the worst score in the history of Agility Trials. Dog and owner race off to get goodies with a bubble of love and joy casting iridescent rainbows around them. Those are the handlers that get the points from me. They may have lost the agility trial, but they won a prize much much more valuable.

1 Corinthians 14:25
and the secrets of his heart will be laid bare. So he will fall down and worship God, exclaiming, "God is really among you!"