Bobbie Wayne's Blog
THE BLUE BLUR
Liberty was born on Valentine’s Day seven years ago. She is a blue merle (black, white and grey markings) and has a distinct black heart on her left hip. She was the smallest of her litter and the last to be taken. Our breeder said she would be a “moderately active” Border Collie, which is an oxymoron. For the first year, she was the puppy from Hell; more like a Tasmanian Devil than a dog. She chewed everything she could get to: crate pads, leashes, seatbelts, furniture, the zipper of her crate cover, the linoleum in the kitchen and our 1895 pine floor boards. She demanded constant attention and tore our clothes, nipping us with her razor-sharp baby teeth when we tried to leave her screened in the kitchen.
In puppy classes and with trainers she learned each behavior on the first try, becoming bored while the other puppies struggled to understand what was required of them. When she was old enough to start Beginning Agility classes, we hoped it would settle her down. In these early classes, both puppy and the handler (me) were taught the basic commands and moves. Liberty learned everything immediately and nipped me whenever I messed up. Our trainer, Nick, kept a box of Band-aids just for me.
In past blogs, I may have mentioned that I have a learning disability which makes it difficult to learn math, understand patterns, read maps, or tell time. When I type, I reverse letters very often and I mix up lefts and rights a lot. Having to race around a gymnasium filled with hurdles, tunnels and elevated walkways in a specific order using signals to cue my dog was a nightmare. At first, not only was I unable to remember what to do, I actually fell backwards over hurdles, forgot which direction to run and confused my front crosses with rear crosses. Both Nick and Liberty were disgusted with my inabilities. Liberty was not only the smartest dog in class; she was the fastest, which earned her the nickname, “The Blue Blur.”
After several years of weekly classes, private lessons, practice in our yard and, finally, competitions, Liberty advanced to the Master’s Level in AKC Agility. I have improve slightly, at least enough for Liberty to quit nipping me. Had she had a younger handler than I who wasn’t constantly getting injured or having surgeries, she would have made it to the top. But we live an hour and a half away from our training center. A day competing often means sitting around for six hours, waiting to do our two runs.
Liberty is now seven and I am seventy-seven. Both of our remaining lifespans are shorter than I would like. Dan, Liberty and I take long walks every day. Liberty needs about four hours of active play and training every day. We continue going to Agility Class each week (where she is still the fastest dog). Dan and I both adore her. She sleeps in-between us every morning, pressed up against my back or curled against my stomach. Although she may not be competing any more, she is champion enough for us. She has taught Dan and me more than we ever taught her.
Happy birthday, my little Valentine!
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