The Battle of the Dumbbell by Deb Kidwell (Retrieve Class 2019)

The Battle of the Dumbbell Red passed Retriever class. He started as a scared and stubborn puppy and ended as an enthusiastic retriever dog. I started with a willingness to learn, but much skepticism that I could pull it off. We weren’t a team, nor was I the pack leader and Red was not the pack. As Red’s breeder, his behavior and personality led me to believe that he showed promise. For example, he used his nose to follow a scent along a line of cover; he retrieved a dokken mallard at eight weeks with unbridled enthusiasm, although it was a big job for such a young puppy. He needed his own space; he didn’t “go with the flow” of the other puppies in the litter. His mother, who loves to play, seemed impressed with his physical bravery and love of the water as he grew. Here was a dog that might be worth the struggle! I didn’t know then how intense the struggle would become or how much it would challenge me and my dog. When you enroll in a class, you start with a conviction that is much like faith—in your dog, yourself and your teacher—and the belief that you will learn. My faith was shaky at best. So much so that I only told one person that I was taking the class, and that was because she kept inviting over on Sunday and I wanted her to know I had a good reason for the rain check. Each coming week challenged my weak faith. I didn’t think we could demonstrate the skills required by the tests. We fell behind. I became discouraged and doubted my dog and myself. But I honored my conviction and commitment to see it through to the end, wherever that led. If we failed, somehow I would have to reconcile my experience—was I wrong about the dog? Did I not have what “it” takes? I never dared to think about what would happen if we succeeded. I was pretty upset when the class ended and we didn’t graduate, but for some reason, I kept going. I guess the little seed of faith was bigger than I knew. It seemed as though my prospects for success were bleak, but I didn’t give up. We had come too far. After a few weeks, I became unfocused and let Red play with bumpers and even an actual dead duck. When I mentioned this to Roxanne, she asked me: what are you doing Deb, if you don’t win the dumbbell battle, you will never be the dominant party in the relationship. (This was her version of the ear pinch, applied to me.) So, we went back to the dumbbell and it was a battle. I determined to work every day; I’m not really sure why because, at this point, I was very doubtful. Each day for about two or three weeks our training protocol was the same. I’d throw the dumbbell, he’d fail to launch, I’d pinch his ear and lead him to the dumbbell. Red really laid it on; he was the perfect victim. He howled and cried and I felt terrible. Slowly, however, another conviction grew out of the struggle. It occurred to me that if I don’t win, Red won’t reach what I thought was his potential. As this fact settled in my mind, the ear pinch continued. Some days are better than others, and eventually one such day rolled around. Red launched! He went out and picked up the dumbbell, not too fast, but still on his own, and I could tell he thought about not bringing it back to me, so I pulled the line, and he bounced towards me with the dumbbell in his mouth. As I reeled him in, he looked me in the eye, and I believe we had a meeting of the minds. Because we didn’t give up on each other, we had reached an understanding. The battle of the dumbbell had ended with a glance. Those of you who know I am a military historian, understand how relevant it was for me to think of this as a battle. You win or you lose and it changes you forever. Maybe you learn something. It could be what you should do, and sometimes it’s about what not to do. I learned that faith is worth acting upon, challenges are worth accepting, and my instincts were sound. Giving up is the worst thing you can do, because you will never know what could have been. While it’s normal to be discouraged and skeptical, what you do about it is up to you. In short, don’t limit your convictions; do overcome challenges and believe in success. Each of you had an initial conviction that your dog was capable of learning this skill set, and that you were capable of being the pack leader. I saw many positive changes in all the dogs and owners as we progressed through the course. You did what it took—ear pinch is no fun for anyone—to reach the goal, or maybe you are still fighting the battle. As “they” say, the struggle is real, but so are the possibilities. It might be a little farther to the top than you think. But keep the faith, fight your battles, and that day of achievement will come. Thanks Roxanne, for believing in me. Now on to the battle of handling! Deb and Red