Clean Run - May 2012 - 5

Editorializing…
Our Best Agility Moment
By Diane Pellowe

One of the best agility moments of my life happened last night. It didn’t take place in the ring. It wasn’t a clean run. My dog dropped a bar. I gave late cues. We had to approach the weave poles twice. But, it was one of the most satisfying agility moments ever. It was a rainy Wisconsin night. The last of our snow was being washed away by a spring storm. We parked our cars in the muddy driveway of a barn secured by a wonderful coach, friend, and mentor for use as a winter training facility. As our small group of agility friends made our way with flashlights through the dark, damp night into the horse barn, we joked that it was like a bad camping trip; muddy, wet, and cold. Inside, we cleaned up a bit of left over horse manure, hauled out PVC agility equipment stored behind a horse carriage, and started to set up the night’s course. As the pouring rain hit the metal roof, it caused a deafening roar. We could hardly hear ourselves think. I turned to a friend and said, “If my husband could see this, he’d think we were crazy.” She laughed, as I knew she would. We walked the course in the dimly lit barn, exchanging humorous banter about the tricky pathway our fearless leader set out for us. We laughed when she said, “This is to help you prepare for the trial this weekend. Lots of tight little pieces coupled with wide open stretches of nothing.” The course included a triple. This was my request, and the course was set so the dog would take the triple last. Elliot is my first agility dog. He’s from Wisconsin Sheltie Rescue, and according to the world of agility, we started training late. We took our first class when he was four. He’s going on nine now, and the last nine months have been a struggle for us. After doing reasonably well for a late blooming team, he started developing ring stress last summer. For the first time, he looked anxious and unhappy in the ring. He ran away from me, jumped off the side of the dogwalk, and barked at the judge. My anxiety spiked, and after it happened a second and third time, my heart was broken. The next few months were a roller coaster ride for us. I pulled him out of trials, backed off on my training, and tried to focus on what might be wrong. A chronic GI problem he suffered from worsened. Several trips to the Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital at the University of Wisconsin led to a diagnosis of protein intolerance. He started on a very strict diet. He gained weight, and seemed thrilled to get back to training. We trialed in some low stress venues with moderate success. But, I continued to have a nagging feeling something wasn’t quite right.

Then, one day last fall, after attending an agility seminar, he came up lame. There was just a slight limp. It came and went and I put him on R and R. As the weeks went by, the limp disappeared, but friends observed, on occasion, he was holding his legs up when he was jumping, and at other times, he was no longer making tight turns. I decided it was time for radiographs. Before the vet took the films, she thoroughly examined Elliot and told me one rear leg was less muscled than the other. The x-ray told the rest of the story. The vet showed me the images on her laptop computer. I was looking at bilateral arthritis in Elliot’s hocks. It was worse in the left hock than the right. Dr. Collins patiently explained to me that he probably developed the limp from over-compensating with the leg less affected. Naturally, my first question was, “What does this mean about agility?” Her reply, “His peak agility days are probably over.” I knew that this day would eventually come. It will come in the life of any agility dog. The day I got the news, I was filled with an incredible sadness. I felt lost. I spent the next several weeks letting go of all the things I thought Elliot and I were to accomplish in the agility ring. Supportive friends lent their ears and hearts. My husband patiently put up with me muttering on about “maybe this and maybe that.” People on the agility message boards offered advice. As recommended by our vet, Elliot started on a glucosamine supplement. Several months have passed. Since learning of Elliot’s arthritis, I made a decision to keep him off the A-frame for the rest of his career. I now believe that his problems in the ring were related to pain. We’ve returned to training on a less rigorous schedule. We started back at lower jump heights and have worked our way up to his regular height. We will run in our first trial this weekend since his diagnosis, only in the Jumpers class. I expect by later this year, I will drop him into Preferred. We’ve taken up Rally in anticipation of our eventual retirement from agility. So, this brings me back to last night. After walking and talking through the course, I went to retrieve Elliot from the car. We slopped through the mud and into the barn. As usual, he barked his fool head off inside and someone called, “Elliot’s here!” We set up on the start line, and he promptly broke his stay, something he almost never does. Our coach yelled, “He’s so happy!” After resetting we took off and ran. A couple bars flew down, we missed our weave entry, and I was late on a critical front cross, sending him to an off-course. But, there was that matter of the triple. It was the last obstacle in the course, following a
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May 12 | Clean Run

Clean Run - May 2012

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