A Day in the Life of a Flyball Dog
This is Part 2 of a multi-part series on the game of Flyball.
A good friend of mine recently wrote a blog post on the merits of training an appropriate retrieve in relation to learning flyball. You can read about it here.
Part 1 – What is this thing you call “Flyball?”
Now that you all know a little about flyball, I’d like to give you a run-down of what a typical tournament looks like. I should mention that our team might not be a typical flyball team. Beltway Bandits prides themselves on our camaraderie as well as our canine talent. I feel very lucky to call my team members friends on and off the racing lanes.
Preparing for a Tournament
Traveling with dog athletes is a lot like traveling with babies; there is endless amounts of stuff that you have to take with you. Most of the tournaments we attend are “away” and require a bit of planning. I have heard tale of an agility person once arriving at an agility tournament, getting out of the car, and then realizing that the one thing she had left behind was her dog.
Because organization and lists are really my thing I created a little check list for away tournaments.
Yes, I realize my handy list includes everything and the kitchen sink, except the dog.
Here’s how things usually go at our house when we’re leaving for a tournament:
1700 – I arrive home, search house frantically to find tournament attire which may or may not have been washed the previous night. Get frustrated, throw clothes into spotted suitcase, shoo cat away. (I should take a moment to mention that the spotted suitcase is essential because my DH forgot my entire bag on the very first tournament that Magnolia was running in… forgot.)
1745 – Count cats. (I mention this because they have been inadvertently locked into a closet during the fray of packing)
1800 – Pack car, double checking that we really have everything since DH usually gets home before me and packs most of the dog stuff.
1830 – Drive away, one of us usually asks, “Do we have the dogs?” (I usually recount the cats in my head as we’re driving away)
Day of the Tournament
If packing for the tournament was crazy, getting to the tournament site at oh-dark-30 is usually worse. Flyball tournaments are much like SCUBA expeditions; they start extraordinarily early in the morning for no particular reason.
0500 - iPhone alarm goes off. If it’s been a late night I might have accidentally hit the snooze button and gone back to sleep for another 9 minutes. Otherwise, it’s up up up and feed the dogs.
0545 – Double check that there’s nothing additional that needs to go down to the car, pack up folding crate, double check that you’re dressed since it’s possible that your jammie bottoms could be hanging out your athletic pants with the early morning that you haven’t shaken off and no coffee / tea to wake you up.
0600 – Car is packed again and ready to go to tournament site. You beg your dog to potty (especially if it’s cold or there’s inclement weather). Then it’s off on the adventure of finding the tournament site. We rarely allow ourselves more than 45 minutes to navigate through unfamiliar territory and get breakfast. Usually this backfires.
0659 – Arrive at the tournament site after much bickering with DH and threats. (Tournament mornings are über stressful for me).
0700-0800 – Wait. Our captain likes us to get to the site early so we can all chill, regroup, and receive any instructions that he might have gotten at the captain’s meeting. This is also the time when we gear-up our dogs (harnesses, boots, vet-wrap, etc) and then beg them to potty again. Now-a-days I require a bit of “gearing” myself to include a very fashionable pair of knee pads. (I thank God every day that none of my ex-boyfriends have ever seen me in my flyball getup. I am definitely not the picture of sexy. And I’m very lucky that my DH is so in love with me that he can excuse my extreme lack of fashion on these tournament weekends.)
0800-lunchish time – Racing starts. There’s a lot of up and down in racing. You’ve got to really stay on top of the racing schedule and when you’re slated to go so that you’ll have enough time to take your dog out, make last minute gear adjustments, have a potty break (for you and the dog), do some stretching and warm-up, and then make it to the racing lane with enough time to help set jump heights and begin the warm-up run on time.
lunchish time – after lunchish time – Yes, I realize that was vague. However, that’s kind of how we all feel about lunch during a flyball tournament. You take it when you can get it, and where you can get it. Sometimes if the racing schedule and racing venue allow we’ll go out to some place like Panera. Other times, we’re grabbing junk food at the onsite vendor and shoving in our faces as we streak off to the racing lanes with our dogs in tow.
after lunchish time – 1700/1800 (if we’re lucky) – If we’ve entered an unlimited tournament chances are racing is gonna last until about dinner time. That’s more of the up and down, up and down, up and down, potty your dog, play some “Oh, Hell!”, etc. I think it’s very important to note that while you’re racing the adreneline is really pumping so you don’t realize exactly how tired you really are.
post racing – Our team likes to go out to dinner after racing. Some days we’re more adventurous than others, but that also depends on the venue. There are some venues (*cough*Franklin*cough*) that have a somewhat limited selection. At those locations the team has found tried and true locations that we go back to over and over again. Sometimes, going to dinner at one of these good ole stand-bys is the most exciting and looked-forward to part of the trip. Our flyball club is steeped heavily in tradition.
post dinner – As with the “post racing” there is no time on this particular event. When racing ends ultimately determines when you’re actually able to get into bed. During dinner, often the effects of a full day of racing begin to take hold. However, since you’re eating and having fun with your team mates you hardly realize it. The fully realization comes when you return to your hotel room (or your van if you’re van-camping), and you start to unwind for the night. Suddently every muscle in your whole body seizes up, your brain gets fuzzy, and you think, “If I have to get up and go play flyball tomorrow I might kill myself.” All of this is further complicated by attempting sleep in a hotel room with dogs who may or may not be tired from a day of racing, depending on their energy level.
Bottom line, get the sleep because you do still have to get up and do it all over again the next day!
The Games Begin!
To be sure that my last post didn’t fall on deaf ears, I have a few videos to illustrate my points. These were taken at the flyball tournament that our club hosted. Unfortunately we don’t often have enough hands to film at every tournament, so we’re not always as up to date as we could be with the videos!
This first video is what can go wrong in flyball; not bad wrong, just messy. In it you’ll see our start dog Porter go out for her ball, then turn wide and miss the jumps on the way down. My dog, Magnolia (the Dalmatian) drops the ball on the line when returning (which you actually can’t see in this video, but the judge surely did!) because Maddie (the Cock-a-poo) has a bad pass — which means that she crossed the start finish line going out to the box before Magnolia crossed the start/finish line returning from the box. Then Sienna (the Australian Shepherd) also had a bad pass; it’s a little difficult to see. When Porter (Australian Cattle Dog) goes out for her rerun, she misses the jumps going out. Maddie attempts to rerun to clear the fault for her bad pass, but goes out of turn. The heat was called a “no finish,” which means that we didn’t clear all our flags and we get no points for that heat.
What can go wrong in flyball from Whitney McKim on Vimeo.
This second video is a close up of Porter and Magnolia doing their swimmer’s turn on the box:
Swimmer’s Turn (sort of) from Whitney McKim on Vimeo.
Finally, the next two videos show a basic flyball race. One is of Speeders our Regular Division team and the other is of Rush Hour our Multibreed team (look for the Dalmatian on this one!):
Beltway Bandits – Speeders (Feb 2009) from Whitney McKim on Vimeo.
Beltway Bandit – Rush Hour (Feb 2009) from Whitney McKim on Vimeo.
I think you should mention after lunch til evening more racing and then walking and then eating and then walking and then finally collapsing and trying to sleep with dogs in hotel rooms and then doing it all again the next day and then racing home to beat the snow storm and or go to work the next morning when completely exhausted. That’s the beauty/insanity of it to me. Spending a whole weekend that could be relaxing driving, schlepping, walking etc…All for a few ribbons and a fuzzy toy (maybe).
Cecelia Spitznas’s last blog post..Do Not Sniff Interesting Smells: Do not Watch Dora The Explorer: Retrieve Directly To Hand: