What is Your Definition of Success?

by Deb Neufeld

I’ve been competing with my 20 month old puppy in Open A. Until we started Open, I could say Daisy had never NQed on anything. Well, I can’t say that anymore. There’s a reason Open A is referred to as the heart-break class. Arguably, it is the biggest jump in training your dog will ever make. Transitioning to Open from Novice is a much bigger leap than from Open to Utility. In Open the dog is learning to work away from you, and all off lead. Utility is an extension of those skills. Do I wish Daisy had qualified every time in Open? Of course I do, but if you ask me if I’m disappointed the answer would be absolutely NOT.

Daisy qualified in Open A her first two times in the ring. A few things didn’t go as I expected, but it helped me realize I had been doing things in practice that I couldn’t do in the ring. My puppy, my educator! The second day of two trials each day, her confidence issues intervened. She missed one small part of one exercise in each trial. It was enough to NQ in each one. Still, I am thrilled and encouraged by her performance. In general, her attitude was up, performance was good, she worked for praise alone and wasn’t looking for cookies, and we were both having a good time. How could I possibly be disappointed with all those positives?

Of 13 or 14 showing in Open A, four qualified Saturday morning, four qualified Saturday evening, 3 qualified Sunday morning, and by Sunday evening only one qualified. Those are actually good qualifying rates for Open A. Yet handler after handler leaving the ring expounded on their disappointment with the performance. It was evident that many handlers mentally “gave up” once the dog NQed, and for the rest of the class they were just going through the motions until they could get out of the ring. It’s as though handlers get embarrassed by the dog NQing. Honestly, the dog doesn’t know he NQed and the handlers at ringside have all been in the NQ category themselves. NQing in Obedience is almost a right-of-passage. I am reminded of a quote by Tom Hanks in the movie “A League of Their Own”, when Gina Davis plans to quit the team and tells him it just got too hard. Tom says “It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.” The “hard” is also what makes us so proud of our accomplishments when we succeed in obedience. Everyone has their own determination of success. Some of us are just as proud to qualify with any score as a more competitive handler would be to earn High In Trial. Sometimes success on an exercise that had been problematic is enough. No one defines success for you, except you.

So, let me share with you what success means to me. I try to stay focused on each exercise for my dog. I like showing my dog, and I want her to like it too. I want the ring to be a good place where she knows I’m happy to be there with her. If something doesn’t go as planned I allow myself a moment of disappointment, then I shake it off and get back into the game. I don’t communicate disappointment to my dog, other than possibly an extra command to assist her. I don’t go into training-mode after we NQ. More than anything, I want my dog to continue to see the ring as a positive place to play the game with me. In order to secure that ideal, I can’t quit on my dog. I must make every exercise after the mistake a positive experience for both of us. If we’re both feeling good about the performance when we leave the ring, despite any mistakes, that is the definition of success to me.

One of the handlers I have most admired over the years is a lady named Gera Blauu. Gera showed a Toy Manchester Terrier in Agility, Rally and Obedience. The small dog had only one eye from birth, but she worked as a team with Gera, and Gera kept her end of the bargain working as a team with Robin. Once they achieved the UD, Gera and Robin set about trying to earn the UDX. Trial after trial, Robin would make one small mistake in one class that would cost them a potential UDX leg. It was a different exercise every time. Gera was always smiling and positive for her little dog. Each time they left the ring after NQing, Gera would smile and hug Robin and say “That’s okay, Robin, we’ll get ‘em next time!” It took them about 76 trials over the course of several years to earn those 10 UDX legs. Robin was the first ever UDX Manchester Terrier, Toy or Standard. But it was Gera’s indomitable spirit, positivity and tenacity that we all admired. Gera is a template for the kind of handler I always want to be.

Good training, everyone!