Start Lines

[singlepic id=326 w=320 h=240 float=right]Inspired by HippieDogs, of course, and somewhat by my previous musings on whether to get a collar for Kim’s starts.

I haven’t talked about my start lines in a long while. Kim has a running start, because she loves to race and run and waiting is boring and stressful for her. For some courses, having a running start doesn’t work, but there are always bits of every course that you don’t think will work but with a little imagination do. Sometimes, for us, that means setting up for the first jump at an unexpected angle, sometimes even facing the wrong way so I can get a fraction further in front to cross. This is highly confusing to most ring parties and judges, but Kim and I are creative and more often than not we pull it off.

Dylan has a naughty startline. He barks madly until I say “wait”, then he sits and crosses his ears at the back of his head and stares intently at the first obstacle. This is a pretence, because as soon as I move away he starts to slowly creep forward. Sometimes I tell him to down, for variety. It doesn’t make much of a difference. I always start worried, wondering how long I have until he goes. I know this is not a good way to start our runs. Maybe I should start doing running starts with Dylan too?

I have started trying to crack down in competition, but I admit I am too competitive and too anxious to keep Dylan happy to run the “move and lose” technique. We are practising, a lot. We play race-chase games with Mollie, where Dylan has to sit and wait with Mollie sitting and waiting around 15ft behind him. They both know as soon as they move that the chase is on! Mollie is very good at waiting, but Dylan is not. He shuffles and creeps and tries to get as much of a headstart as he can, because Mollie beats him up if he can’t run fast enough. I move him back. We are making headway. He is getting faster and better at waits.

Jet has the best startline. We go and we stand and I wrestle off her collar, because she has a martingale slip and it always gets stuck on her ears. I always apologise, and she always waits patiently for me to get going. I ruffle her ruff, because Jet has lots of spare skin and it’s fun to wriggle it about, and then I walk away confidently knowing Jet will be stood exactly where I left her. She always looks frozen on the spot when I stop and look at her. People think she is going to be slow and pottle around, because she looks so anxious, but we know the truth. I say ok-go, she launches into a madcap 30s of wild unpredictability and barking.

Jet and Mollie are a lot alike.