The following appeared as part of the "Northern Lights and Prairie Stars" column in the August 2004 issue of Front & Finish. After reporting on some new titles in the Minnesota area, Kathie Galotti wrote about her Berners, past and present...

Glory Dogs and Underdogs

by Kathie Galotti

I'll add a more modest brag to those above—I've brought my new dog, Tackle, out in Novice this spring, and he finished his CD with some very nice scores (for us, 197.5 is a VERY nice score, though I know it's only mediocre for some of you!).  Showing Tackle has been something of a blast-he's a (very) big, flashy dog who heels like a dream most of the time and just looks like he's having a fabulous time in the ring.  He often reminds me of Bussey, my first male Berner, who did very well in both Novice and Open, and also a little bit of my beloved Eskie (pictured right), who didn't heel very well (well, she did maintain a consistent heel position, about a foot behind me), but friends who watched tell me she always looked up at me in adoration.

Bussey, Eskie, and Tackle are what I call "Glory dogs."  They make me look good  in the ring.  (Eskie did in Open and Utility, once we got past heeling).  They are and were good ambassadors of the breed in obedience-they were/are fun to watch, they put on a good show, and they (at least occasionally) get/got nice scores (i.e., over a 195).

On the other hand I am now also showing Flit, my third female Berner, in Utility A.  We've shown about 7 times, earning one leg and had five "near misses."  And I can't begin to describe for you how THRILLED I am.  For those of you who had the unfortunate experience of seeing Flit in the Open ring, she's the one who, when she falls apart, slinks around the ring, looking fearful that at any moment I will whip out the BIG STICK that I so obviously use in training and beat her senseless with it.

Flitty is sometimes a real embarrassment to show (as was Tandy, my Novice A Berner, although in Tandy's case it was that she was a clown who deliberately plotted against me, I'm sure.)  I swore a few shows ago that I am going to get a "showing Flit" shirt.  On the front, it  will say, in big letters:  "NO.  I DO NOT BEAT THIS DOG."  On the back it will say, in even bigger letters:  "YES, I DO TOO TRAIN THIS DOG, THANKS FOR ASKING."  I've considered paying friends and acquaintances to circulate ringside, letting all spectators  know that I really am as kind to Flit as I am to Tackle, that I love her and feed her and train her kindly and fairly.  Because on her off days, it sure doesn't look like it.

So WHY, you may wonder, was Flitty's pitiful 182 in Utility A such a cause of delight to me, whereas Tackle's placements were not quite as glorious?  Well, perhaps it IS masochism, but I have in mind something else.

Flitty (and Tandy before her) is my "Underdog."  She is not easy to train.  She has issues.  She doesn't take to this obedience thing naturally.  She isn't fun to show, in fact, sometimes I dread it.  At the show in which she made her utility debut, one spectator asked a friend of mine who was in the ring with me, and when she heard it was Flit, retorted, "Never thought Kathie would show THAT dog again."

But, in all honesty, the underdogs are the ones who have forced me to really sharpen my training skills.  They are the ones that have taught me a lot about patience, about perseverance, and about perspective.  Although I've wanted to wring their necks, they are also the ones whose achievements have  brought me the most joy.  Because those achievements are hard-earned, because those achievements couldn't have, wouldn't have, been earned by a lot of other trainers (including the big name trainers) who would have given up long before, and gotten a different "obedience" breed, hoping for a glory dog.

Ok, older readers of F & F will recall that I'm a college prof in psychology, and therefore might forgive me for sneaking in part of a lecture here.  Psychologist Carol Dweck has studied achievement motivation in kids and adults—that means she's studied the goals they set for themselves, especially in a school-like setting.  Some people have what she calls "performance goals."  They essentially want to show off.  Thus, when they have a choice between a hard task where they might fail but also are very likely to learn something, and a task where they won't learn anything, but have a good chance to excel, they choose the latter. 

People with "learning goals," on the other hand,  approach challenges in a different way.  Given the same choice, they choose the task where they might learn something.  Now, what's  interesting from a psychological point of view is that the latter group of people—the ones with learning goals—are much more resilient against stress and setbacks.  That is, they handle "failure" a lot more maturely than the performance goal crowd, who are devastated and fall apart.  The learning goal folk are better able to remember that "tomorrow is  another day" and to learn from mistakes.  The learning goal folk are a lot more healthy.

My underdogs, God bless them, are helping me with something that  doesn't come naturally to me—to adopt  learning, instead of performance goals.  They are teaching me that even spectacular failures in the ring really don't matter very much in the larger scope of things.  Tomorrow is another show.  Things can change.  When I diagnose the mistakes I've made in my training, and address them honestly, I usually do get a better performance.

So, dammit, I will get those other two UD legs.  And when I do, I will be on cloud 9.  And I will have learned more tricks and techniques and "fixes" for problems, especially in Utility, than I know now, or than I ever got from training Buss or Eskie.  

But, being a natural "performance goal" gal, I think I'll keep showing Tackle too!

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Kathie's web site for her dogs

added December 7, 2004