On people who compete with their dogs

<---- How my dogs compete

My fantasy used to be doing some competitive activity with my dogs, showing the world their skill and strength and agility. They would win ribbons upon ribbons; I would have an entire room devoted to their winnings. Visitors would hear their escapades, riveting tales of weekend trips to anywhere but here and great heroic feats performed by Mina and, later, Celeste. It would be Epic.

Then I learned this was all a lot of hard work. You had to take a lot of classes. I mean, a lot. Like three or four times a week, I would be dragging my dog(s) to training and rally and agility classes. There would be classes on hand signals and clickers and classes on how to move left and move right appropriately. After a hard day at work, I would spend another four hours working on weaves and stands and other such important stuff. Um. No thanks.

Even taking my dogs to training classes proved, how do I put this without sounding whiney, boring. I liked them, especially the pit ed classes for Mina (because she was a hit and was sassy). The one for Celeste proved far below her skills, considering I had already ingrained in her stuff like sit, watch, down, stay, stand, shake, come, heel.

I admire folks who spend any amount of time getting their dogs to compete. Mina is anti-competitions because she believes she is #1 so why bother with all the hoop-la? Celeste would probably excel at something or other but mostly she just wants to chase things (I have yet to find a lure coursing club who accepts nondescript mixed breeds with blue eyes). When I have more money, I am going to be the person on the block with her own continuous loop lure system. It will be a big hit and I will have children see if they can keep up with Celeste.

And that will be the extent of my dogs' competitive streak - a $1,200 pulley system.

Wait. $1,200? Perhaps Celeste will just continue on her love affair with the flirt pole.

On charging the clicker and red nose pit bulls

First, the clicker. Celeste will be starting the much-anticipated OBEDIENCE class next Tuesday. The teacher likes clickers. I'm ambivalent about the devices; they *are* great for marking wanted behaviors, but they're also one extra thing that I don't need to be toting around.

I have a few lying around the apartment from my days of clicker training rats and dogs and making a valiant attempt at clicker training a mouse. Mina, the pit bull, is firm in her belief that clickers are for losers, hence why she feels the clicker is perfectly acceptable for Celeste.

These past few days I've been charging the clicker. I click, drop a treat for Celeste. Click, hand her a treat. Rinse, wash, repeat. Now I click and she comes a running, her stomach telling her brain TREATS NOW! We're already at the point where she does a watch before I click and treat. She's very food motivated, which makes clicker training easier....at the same time, she's a little TOO in to the food. Her movements are more reminiscent of a chicken being clicker-trained, all jerky and instantaneous. I can only hope I'm clicking for the right thing. Celeste doesn't care so long as something she does garners her a cookie. That's why I love her alright. :)

Okay, now on to dem red-nose pit bulls. I call the apartments where I live the halfway house. It's a big 'old victorian house separated into individual apartments. To be honest, I love the place; it's across from the park and downtown, it's affordable for the area, and it gets a lot of light, staying extra warm during the winter (I hate cold). Plus it allows dogs, including pit bulls. That it also seems to attract some sketchy characters is, I suppose, to be tolerated.

Anyway, I had the dogs out for a potty break. One of my neighbor's approached me and this conversation ensued.

Neighbor (N): Is that a red nose?!?
Me (Me): Huh?
N: A red nose.
Me: Oh, she's a pit bull, if that's what you mean.
N: No, no, no, I mean a red nose. You know, RED nose. I have one, with a red nose.
Me: *gazes fondly at Mina* Well, to be honest, it's actually pink.
N: What?
Me: Her nose. It's pink.
N: I haven't heard of a pink nose.
Me: *shrug*

I used to just say yes to the "is she a red nose" question, because I get it so frequently and "yes" is less taxing on my nerves than a discourse on nose coloration not being an indicator of a separate breed. I feel like I should have Mina wear a sign, "Why yes, my nose *IS* red, do you want a cookie for that observation?" Mina is a pit bull. With a rose-pigmented nose.

It's pink, really.