On becoming a champion

Happy Mac became a USDAA Agility Dog Champion this weekend. With all of his wiggles and smiles and dorkiness, he achieved that title in just under 3 years from our first training session together--the fastest I have ever put a masters level championship on any of my dogs. This is undoubtedly an achievement. As I stood biting my nails and pacing back and forth to the RV while I waited for our height class in Snooker to be finished… confirming or denying his final “Super Q” that would earn us the coveted acronym ADCH, I was pretty much beside myself with nerves.

On the drive home--after our celebration lap, and his photo proudly posted to Facebook--I thought a lot about those nerves, and reflected on our journey to this milestone. Through the rainy blur of my windshield (ok, some of the water was behind my glasses) there was an incredible gift of clarity, and my own answer to the question about what it truly means to be an agility dog champion.

I thought about the first time I let him run full out with Chloe in the back pasture, and realized he could match her speed stride for stride.

I thought about the before and after photos I took of him on our first day of class, and how his face lit up from learning to play this new game with me.

I thought about our brilliant practices that made me dream of a bright future together.

And then I thought about our struggles with ring nerves when we began to show.

...Slow, careful, distracted runs. My sadness at his lack of drive. Would we ever be as fast at a show as we are at practice? I didn’t want to force a dog to run that didn’t love it … did he love it? Having to re-think our goals. Would he ever be a Champion?

And then I thought about the adjustments I made to build his confidence.

….The events we entered or didn’t enter based on his preparedness. Waiting to play Gamblers and Snooker until he told me he was ready. Changing heights, changing from Championship, to Performance, and back again. Monitor, adjust, monitor, adjust. Training and checking for understanding. Adding more cues and expanding his vocabulary so he could have more information. Patience, time, practice--more patience, more time, more practice.

And the corner we turned. Slowly. And now faster.

… Letting agility be a game instead of a job. Figuring out what makes him happiest, even away from agility--things like simply following me around the house to do laundry, get my papers from another room, or put my shoes on make him happy. Telling him he’s brilliant every day. Loving him.

And then the dog who wasn’t happy showing got happy, and as a result he got faster.  Leg after leg, Q after Q, we are becoming a true team.

And here we are now, ADCH. Happy Mac is an Agility Dog Champion.

As I pulled into the driveway, it was suddenly clear to me that Happy Mac’s title isn’t just an acronym for what he is, it’s a reminder of what I needed to become in order for us to be successful as a team.  

I am the guardian of his journey in this sport, and I promise to protect and guide that journey with all of my heart. For him, for us.

I will forever be HIS champion.