Grab That Stick and Take a Break

That went by fast. Sabbatical, I mean. I am back on contract, although I do not start teaching until next week.

I had an official Sabbatical project and it did not get finished — but it will. Other opportunities presented and I took advantage of those; in addition, there was Berkeley’s health crisis. (Note: There is still no explanation for the continued need to watch her blood sugar).

One opportunity was to co-author a book chapter about loss and grief of people in prison who socialize/train — and then relinquish — shelter dogs. It is a way for people whose mistakes cost them freedom to give back and learn skills, but yes — it sets up a vulnerable population for loss. The book will be published soon.

Another opportunity was to join a team evaluating a large federal grant that seeks to improve behavioral health care of children and adolescents in Montana — so needed. This is a large and sparsely populated state; Montana has about the same population as Rhode Island, but is 147 times bigger. This means services people take for granted in other areas are simply not available, and our suicide rate is appalling and sad.

Related — a third opportunity was recording for a podcast. We recorded over twelve hours but who knows what the production team will decide to do with it; the topics — loss, grief, suicide, and schools.

There were other things interspersed, including maintaining my involvement on another federal grant related to behavioral health in primary health clinics — but the bottom line is that Sabbatical is over.

Sigh.

I know how lucky I am to have a job that permits such a thing, but as you can see from above it is definitely not a long work-free vacation by any means. Rather, a sabbatical is a way to change the mental channels to something different for a while, and I suspect we could all benefit from that — even dogs!

Claire with the stick, and Sparkle waiting her turn.

It occurs to me that every day presents sabbatical opportunities.

When we choose to do something in a different way — or to not do something we usually do — we are giving ourselves a mini-break from what is usual and routine.

A micro-sabbatical.

I love it.

As I end my year-long Sabbatical, I am going to look for ways to have micro-sabbaticals. It doesn’t have to be complicated or hard — just doing something different to cause a bit of a mental shift.

Use a different and special coffee cup, walk a new way to work, wear happy socks, drive to work in silence (or not), try a new sandwich, train the dog in a new behavior, avoid the news for a day, and so on.

Taking a break from what is ordinary is wonderful. And it makes going back to ordinary somehow new again.

So bring on the semester — I am ready! And I will do my best to use micro-sabbaticals on a regular basis to maintain my enthusiasm.

The best part of a micro-sabbatical? You don’t have to apply for one — you just do it. Perfect! Let’s all get busy.

#microsabbatical

History and Humility

This is the very first BMDCA award I ever received.

Top Novice A Obedience Dog in 1996 with Emma — my first BMDCA Award.

I have trained — and attempted to train — animals for as long as I can remember. Parakeets, dogs, goats, horses — and no, we did not live on a farm.

But I was active in 4-H and had friends who did have little farms and so aside from a baby goat who lived in my bedroom closet for a month or two, the farm-loving animals lived with friends and/or were boarded.

Alameda County Fair. The reason I so love the Pleasanton Dog Shows — it is at the same place I romped as a kid — with my kids (as in goats).

I was so excited to finally be getting a dog as an adult — one I could train and show in obedience. As I waited for Emma to be old enough to bring home, I interviewed the local dog trainers, mooned over puppy toys at the pet supply stores, studied dog food — you get the idea.

I was smitten by everything DOG.

My dream was coming true.

And then Emma arrived — and it was even more wonderful than I imagined. I got a dog — and an entire Berner community.

One thing I did when Emma was still young was drive to a dog show to watch obedience. I had never actually seen an obedience show and it seemed like a good thing to do before Emma and I started showing.

It was transformative and impacts my training even today.

I watched a Berner shown in Novice. That dog heeled slowly and sadly, as if it expected to be beaten at any moment. There was no joy, no fun, no engagement. It was painful to even watch.

I made a commitment to never show a dog that looked like that — ever.

I did that whole attitude thing right with Emma and continue to do it right with the dogs who have followed.

Attitude is everything.

When you begin training animals — or attempting to train — at a very young age, you make a lot of mistakes — I have absolutely made my share. I try not to beat myself up for the mistakes of the ill-equipped Young Me.

But a “young” trainer is not always a child — sometimes an adult is a “young” trainer in terms of experience, number of dogs trained, etc. That young trainer will also make mistakes.

There is no shame in being a “young” trainer or making mistakes — not at all. The shame is Hubris — in failing to acknowledge our relative training “youth” and the need to mature, develop, and grow in knowledge and skills.

At least children tend to know that they have more to learn before they are “expert” — well, until they are teenagers.

I wish more adults who fancy themselves as trainers of dogs and humans had the humility and openness of a child. But to do that — to have the openness of a child — takes a certain strength of character because humility can be so threatening to our sense of self.

But isn’t the reality for all of us that we are human, make mistakes, and need to learn stuff? Always and about everything?

I think so.

I am a better dog trainer than I was at ten or in 1996 when Emma got that first BMDCA award. And by staying open, humble and flexible I hope to be even better when I am 92 and receive my last BMDCA award.

Changing Season & Ponder This

In spite of a vigorous training schedule for the past four months, it is apparently not Claire’s year for a TDX.

She was first alternate at the specialty TDX test and she is third alternate at our local test, even with a Worker Certificate advantage.

Tracking Season is now closed for 2019. It is getting hot and the grass will dry up — time to shift gears.

I am a wee bit disappointed that we did not get in a test, but the Disappointment Channel is a real downer and so I switched my mental channel to a happier one. And yes, it is a choice where to park your brain just as much as it is a choice where to park your backside.

The Hope Channel is my favorite — it plays all the happy events and days ahead in an endless loop. One of the shows on the Hope Channel is that amazing day when Claire earns a TDX.

In the meantime, we are turning our attention to other events — and growing coat. No Hair Claire is definitely sporting her summer outfit these days.

Coming up in June — two days of obedience for Harper B, and a return to AGILITY — not Harper for Begone Agility (perish the thought says Harper) but for Daisy and Claire. How fun is that?!

Today’s Ponder This from my stewarding vantage point — who looks their very best when gagging and choking?