Pete's Promise

Yes, this a new post about Perennial Pete. If you are new around here and want to read more about Pete then just type the word "Pete" into the search over on the right side of my blog and you can read all about our adventures.

A couple weeks ago, Ace rang his "go outside bell" before my alarm went off.

The Hubby elbowed me awake.

He mumbled "Ace is ringing the bell"

and I automatically stumble out of bed.

There are two reasons The Hubby can get away with this.

One, because I don't hear anything when I sleep so he has to elbow me

and two, because I'm too confused when I first wake up to argue "it's you're turn".

Anyhoo, I noticed the sun was just beginning to rise when I opened the front door for Ace.

The sky was a pretty hue of oranges.

I was appreciating this through my one open eye and with my forehead plastered to the little window next to my front door while I waited for Ace to do his doo-doo.

As he trotted back up the sidewalk towards me, I opened the front door

that's when I heard it.

It was a rooster crowing.

Ace walked past me while I shook the sleepiness out of my head.

I was sure I must be hearing things.

I waited a few minutes but didn't hear anything else.

Figuring I was just sleepy or maybe loosing my mind, I went back to bed.

A couple of days later the same scene played out.

Bell, elbow, muttering, stumbling, doo-doo, door, rooster crowing.

But this time that old rooster crowed a few more times.

And I smiled.

It's always a good thing when you realize you're not crazy.

So later that day as I was driving out of the neighborhood, I looked over at Pete's property.

And there it was, just as Pete had threatened or promised or prophesied.

A chicken coop.

And a bunch of chickens running around his yard.

It's not a giant chicken coop (like the neighbor said he planned to build) and his property is fenced so I don't see anything wrong with some chickens.

I will admit, I'm a little scared of chickens.

The Hubby and I have friends, who used to have chickens.

This couple told us some stories of their crazy and aggressive rooster.

They were even afraid of their rooster who would chase them around (even on the lawn mower).

So I blame Dave and Juliane for my fear of chickens. :)

So imagine my surprise the other day when I found chickens wandering down the road towards my house.

Thank goodness I was in my car.

With the twins.

Because I had to resist the urge to run them over.

I didn't want to scar the twins.

And make them afraid of chickens for the rest of their lives.

And besides, I'm kinda enjoying that rooster crowing every morning.

"My dog is an agility class flunkie"

Yes, it's true.

And I've been in mourning for the past month.
Not really. Just taking another blogging break.

So yes, Agility Class Number 3 was our last.
Ace was officially kicked out, banished, expelled....
or as the trainer tried to put it nicely in her email "not welcome back".

Class number 3 started the same as the last two.
Even with 2 separate hours of Frisbee chasing, Ace was a hyper mess going into the building.
He jumped and twisted on his leash, growling randomly at the other dogs.

We did "crate training" again for 20 or 25 minutes.
Ace had made a little progress but not much.
He spent most of his time pacing and watching the other dogs.

We then moved onto "the tunnel".
The trainer held our dogs while the owners went to the other side of the tunnel and called them through.
Ace was at the end of the line watching all the other take their turns.
He would jump and spin on his leash and then look back at me as if to say "let me go! I want to try!"

It was finally Ace's turn.
I handed him off to the trainer and went to the end of the tunnel.
Before I could even finish calling his name, Ace shot through the tunnel.
I reached to grab his collar and he immediately dodged to the left, just out of my reach.

Ace ran straight over to the German Sheppard puppy.
Remember how I told you about the puppy that barked non-stop from the beginning of class to the end?
I've also mentioned before that Ace doesn't like it when dogs bark. He avoids them at parks and on walks. I've noticed he looks at them at times like he's puzzled by them. He sits there and tilts his head to the side and then looks to me as if asking "why is he making so much noise?"

Anyhoo, Ace bolted over and attacked the barking German Sheppard puppy.

I ran over and grabbed Ace as fast as I could, pulling him off the now yelping puppy.
The puppy's owner was knocked down in the process.
The trainer was there by my side in an instant.
"You never told me your dog was violent!" she blurted out accusingly.
"He never has been!" I said.

After apologizing profusely and inspecting both dogs (no injuries)
Ace was banished off to the corner of the room to calm down.

I was shocked (and extremely embarrassed)!
"Ace! What is wrong with you?!!" I wanted to grab him and give him a good shake so he would snap out of this crazed dog guise.
He just continued to jump and pull on his leash with what seemed like "let's do it again! let's do it again! that was fun!" attitude.

The trainer allowed us to give it another try at the end of the class.
"Are you sure?" I asked while I watched the other owners step defensively in front of their dogs or literally pick them up in their arms.

Ace tried again to cut quickly and slip past me.
But there was no way that was going to happen again.

After apologizing one more time to the German Sheppard puppy owner, I went home defeated and exhausted.

The Hubby and I talked that evening.
I told him I didn't want to do the class anymore.
I didn't like the way Ace behaved when we were there.
I didn't trust Ace while we were there.
I'm not sure I trust Ace at all anymore.

I got up the next morning and decided to email the trainer and let her know we wouldn't be coming back.
But there was already an email for me in my inbox when I logged on.

She was very nice. She explained their "no violence policy".

I totally agreed with everything she said.
But it still sucked.
It's hard to explain.

Have you ever been ready to break up with someone? You're actually on your way to "end it". And then suddenly, out of no where, they dump you.

And now, all you feel is how bad you want that person back?

That's kinda how it felt.

She offered a couple "private instructions" to make up the difference in the money I spent.
And we did those.
And Ace was his normal self.
Perfectly behaved.

I figure, at least she knows that I'm not some irresponsible dog owner. One that never bothered to train her dog.

Ace continues to learn new tricks.
When a dog walks by our house, Ace sits quietly in the yard and watches them walk by.
When we pass a barking dog on our walks, Ace still looks at them like they are crazy but other than that seems to ignore them.

I have had him off leash to play Frisbee at the park by our house.
We always have an audience of clapping kids and a maybe a couple of adults with dogs here and there.
Ace ignores them all. He is completely focused on his "job".

My reasoning for the classes in the first place, was to give Ace some physical and mental outlets.
I'll just have to do something different.

Just so this post isn't a complete "downer" I thought I'd share this video my cousin, Kristin sent me.

This will never be Ace.....and I'm okay with that.

what a dud

Well, I've been putting off writing this blog because there really isn't much to say.

I've looked at last Monday's class from every possible angle to find some kind of humor in it...

but I've got nothin!

Ace was still his hyper self.

The hot dogs and cheese helped him focus a little more on me and my commands but not much.

We spent the first HALF of the class focusing on "crate games" again, which Ace refused to participate in.

He still wouldn't go anywhere near his crate.

The trainer told us not to push him.

She suggested maybe we try to lure him with treats to sit next to the crate.

So we spent the next 15 minutes trying that.

With little success.

The trainer then asked if the person and dog next to us could borrow our crate because hers was a little to small for her dog.

So we let her.

I thought for a moment it might be like when my kids were little...

You know, when your kid has no interest in that one toy until you're in the middle of a play date with that friend who seems like "super mom"--she has the best behaved kids and always seems to say the right thing-- and her kid picks up that one toy and now your kid wants it like nothing he's ever wanted before and is throwing the temper tantrum of a life time just to embarrass you to high heaven...

But no.

Not Ace.

He didn't seem to care that much.

He actually jut sat there and watched the other dog sitting locked in his crate.

I swear Ace had a look on his face like he was thinking "SUCKER!"

So, after another 15 minutes of just sitting there, we finally moved on to our next exercise.

This one the trainer holds the dog and the owner runs off calling the dog.

The dog is supposed to chase after his owner and we grab them.

Something to do with safety.

I've never had issues with Ace not coming to me.

You can imagine his excitement after just spending 30 minutes "sitting" while having massive doggie stimulus coming at him the entire time.

The trainer held Ace and I think I took about five paces and Ace was on me.

He jumped up as I bent over to grab his collar and he hit me right in the upper lip.

So now I'm bleeding.

And I'm trying to hide it while I get back in line.

Luckily, the quick swelling stanched the bleeding.

Now I just have a big fat lip.

I'm thinking maybe smiling would make it less obvious.

So that's what I did.

The trainer probably thought I was having a great time because I stood there with a stupid smile on my face.

We did a few more exercises.

None of which Ace "wowed" at.

(excuse my grammar).

So that was about it.

Nothing exciting to report.

Sorry.

This is how I found Ace the next morning....

Agility class round 2...the plan of action

Ace has his second agility class tonight.

If you missed the horrible play by play of the first one click here.

I'm feeling a little better about tonight.

Mostly, thanks to all your supportive comments on here and facebook.

But also, because I have a plan of action.

I think it's a pretty good plan.

#1. Three rounds of Frisbee today followed by a long swim in the dog pond.

#2. Coating myself with many layers of bug spray (going extra strength with lots of Deet).

#3. Packing "extra special" treats for Ace which are...

*pieces of hot dog (He loves them but they usually upset his stomach...but I am willing to pay the price of disgusting doggie doo-doo duty the next couple of days to achieve complete attention from Ace).

*also piece of cheese (thinking it might counter act the hot dog laxative affect)

#4. Considering rubbing hot dog juice from the package all over my body.

#5. Bringing Tony with me to help. He will be in charge of treat handling and poo clean up (he just doesn't know this yet)

Wish me luck.

I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow!

Ace's first agility class

Ace had his first agility class on Monday.

I was super excited.

I was sure it was gonna be great.

It wasn't.

Actually, it was pretty awful.

Knowing Ace's level of "hyper-ness", I decided he would have his normal exercise, plus a little extra for the day. I hoped this would tire him out and he would be calm for instruction.

I underestimated the amount of exercise he should have to keep him from getting over excited when he entered a huge pole barn full of dog agility obstacles, 6 other puppies (one who constantly barked the entire time), and fine grey sand-gravel loaded with doggie smells.

I'm pretty sure I could have ran him for 12 hours straight and he still would have acted the same. Which was like he had never been on a leash before and had never heard a command in his life.

He pulled me around the building to investigate everything, jumping and twisting when I tried to correct him.

He seemed to forget that I even existed. This from a dog who stares at me constantly and won't leave my side, ever.

The instructor could obviously see me struggling.

"Let him smell around" she said.

Like I had a choice.

There were so many things in that building, not only set up, but hundreds of things leaning against the walls, it would have taken Ace days to smell them all.

He kept lifting his leg to mark and I kept yanking his leash and saying "no". I was pretty sure that wasn't allowed.

The trainer finally called us all in.

There was a collection of chairs set up at one end and some of the other dog owners were sitting there with their puppies sitting or laying quietly at their feet.

There was no way Ace would do that. He was still jumping and spinning trying to get away. I ended up standing next to the training while she addressed the class.

She talked (what little I remember of it) about rules and such.

Then Ace took a big poo in front of the whole class. (yes, I did take him potty before!)

"Perfect timing for me to talk about puppy clean up" she said. I still felt like an idiot while everyone watched me try to open a poo bag, bend over to pick it up, all the while Ace jumped and twisted like a crazy animal.

Then we went around the room and did introductions.

That's when I noticed that Ace was by far the oldest puppy there. Most of the puppies were 12-15 weeks old. The closest to Ace was 6 months (he was the one sitting perfectly at his owners feet).

For a quick moment thought "Ace is too old for this class". I had emailed with the trainer back and forth. Telling her Ace's age and the classes he had attended. I would realize how stupid that thought was by end of the first instruction.

It was my turn to introduce Ace.

"This is Ace. He's one year old and he's a Border Collie." I said while Ace continued to flop around on his leash like a fish on a hook.

"And you got him from a rescue?" the trainer seemed to be leading me somewhere.

"No....from a breeder...." I said a little confused.

My mind immediately thought "it's the 'Chicago thing'-- like I see at all the dog parks. Everyone seems to get their dogs from a rescue." I'm feeling like I'm being judged again because I paid money for a full breed dog.

Until she asks "how many weeks have you had him?"

"Since he was six weeks old" I answer.

"Did you realize what you were getting into when you decided on that breed?" she asks.

"yes...." I'm really confused now.

She didn't ask all these questions to everyone else....

And it hits me like a tons of bricks.

She thinks because Ace is acting like insane-crazy-never-been-on-a-leash-absolutely-no-training-dog, I must have just got him.

Or that I'm an idiot.

I'm leaning toward the later.

"Do you provide a channel for all that energy?" She asks.

Now I'm a little offended.

"Yes, if you call an average of two hours a day of exercise at either the dog park, playing Frisbee, or walking a channel." I say.

I want to tell the class that most days people compliment me on how well Ace is trained.

That he knows sit, stay, heel, wait, leave it, go left, go right, to name a few.

That he will walk off leash around my neighborhood and I don't worry about him running into the road because he will do what I say...even if a bike or a bunny goes by.

That he knows the names of tons of toys.

That he can operate the electric windows in my car.

That he knows which way I'm going to throw the ball by just the turn of my shoulders or by a small point.

That he can perfectly time and catch a Frisbee flying at all speeds and angles (which is my excuse for continuing to throw a Frisbee like I've never seen one before....it better training for Ace's catching skills).

But I don't say anything.

I'm sweating now, covered by doggie drool and a layer of that fine grey gravel dust.

And I notice that I am being attacked by mosquitoes.

There's probably only a dozen mosquitoes in this well kept barn but for some reason they always find me.

"Time for a potty break" the trainer announces.

Guess who won't go?

I'm pretty sure Ace is saving up.

He's already figured out what obstacles he plans on marking.

I'm losing patience at this point along with about a quart of blood to the mosquitoes.

"Go potty Ace!" I command.

He gives me that look.

You know the "make me" look.

And I would have if I didn't start worrying about my hemoglobin level.

Instead, I tell him "if you so much as lift a leg inside....so help me Ace!!"

And we head back inside.

The trainer tells us we will be watching a video on "crate games".

We are all supposed to sit in the chairs and watch the video.

Everyone settles in.

Except Ace.

He has decided he wants to play with the 6 month old super-well-behaved-I'm-perfect-puppy.

Ace crouches head down, rump up and gives him the Border Collie stare.

Nothing.

The puppy won't even acknowledge Ace.

Ace wags his tail a little and gives a playful little yip.

The puppy eyes are on his owner, sitting perfectly waiting for the next command.

Ace tries again this time he moves a little forward and puts a paw on the puppy's hind leg.

This time he gets a response.

Only it's not from the puppy, it's the owner giving me a dirty look.

I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her.

Mostly because Ace has decided to find other well behaved dogs to bother.

Needless to say, I have no idea what the video said.

We were directed over to our crates. The only time we use our crate at home is for when we leave Ace. He will go in his crate occasionally to take a nap on his own or to stow a toy. And just in the past couple weeks we have been leaving him out of the crate when we go somewhere.

The trainer tells us to put our dogs in their crates.

Ace immediately sits and refuses to budge. Nothing I can do will get him in there. He won't follow a treat in there. Not even his Frisbee.

I'm at the end of the line of crates and by the time the trainer gets to me all the other puppies are going in and out of their crates and playing their "crate games".

Ace has his heels dug in.

The trainer tries all the things that I have already tried. She then tells me to pick him up and put him in.

Imagine trying to put a cat in a bucket of water. Ace wiggled and arched his back. He flailed all four legs out. After a couple of failed attempts of trying to shove an insane shaped dog into a well behaved shaped dog sized hole, the trainer says "stop".

"What have you done to him? Have you been using his crate as punishment?" she says in an accusing tone.

"No! Never! The only time we use it is for when we leave him. He probably thinks I'm going to leave him here!" I say while wiping the grey muddy sweat off my face.

"Well, I've never seen a dog so upset!" she says in her I-don't-believe-you tone. "You'll have to work on this at home!"

Yeah sure. whatever.

We did a few more "exercises" that all made me look equally as horrible as a negligent dog owner.

I went home exhausted, dirty and defeated.

My only hope is that next week Ace adjusts to all the stimuli and "wow's" them all.

But I won't be holding my breath.