Thursday 28 August 2008

the Project is half done

It's an old project manager's trick, to make Earned Value look good early in a project - the 50% rule.

In a nutshell, the moment a task on a project schedule is started you get credit for 50% of the work being done. So if lots of tasks are started, the to-date EV is great. You can be only 5 days into a 3 week task and the % done is still half. Sounds great, right? Well it is - right up until the moment that you're actually 90% complete and the vendor is now projecting a 1 month delay... and your % complete is still at 50%. And it stays at 50% until it's 100% - period.

So when I say I've got a project that's 50% complete, take that with a grain of salt. I may in fact be half done, I may not... didn't really do a formal project schedule on this one. I do have a set of requirements and a plan, and so far execution is going great. But as for when it will all be done, beats me. The critical stuff will be done before winter hits, the rest has to be completed before 8 months have passed.

What's the project? Converting a shed to a kennel. Yes, that's right, a kennel. Me. Kennel. Yep.

Years ago I thought people that had dogs that lived outside were people that shouldn't have dogs. And there's a substantial number of people that shouldn't have dogs, at all, no matter where they would live. But I've gotten over the notion that dogs must live inside if they are to live with us at all.

The first step of this realization was border collies; the real ones are called working sheepdogs. Emphasis on WORKING - the energizer bunny on speed wouldn't keep up with them. These are TOUGH dogs to live with, they make crappy pets, and require very dedicated and talented owners to direct all that intelligence, intensity, and boundless energy. A working sheepdog can run - not trot, RUN - up and down steep hills 10 hours a day (or more), working a flock of hundreds, covering the better part of a hundred miles. And get up the next day and do it again. And the next. Think a daily 1/2 hour walk or a game of fetch is going to be enough for one of these dogs? Think again. No wonder most shepherds keep the dogs housed away from both stock and humans - an arrangement that has worked just fine for hundreds of years and is well figured out. My border collies (ranging in age from 7-1/2 to nearly 13) live in the house, but there are days...

Then I met some people with sled dogs. Holy smokes, these are amazing dogs. Impossible to live with for most people, the are glorious in their element. And that element is OUTSIDE in the COLD running and running and running - very fast, very far, in a straight line. I know a couple of people that compete in Obedience with Siberian Huskeys - gluttons for punishment. Kudos to all the UDs and OTCHs out there, you're better trainers than I am. Luckily the Iditarod is on TV every year: pretty incredible stuff. If you want to read an interesting book that will make you laugh your hair off, check out Winterdance. I learned a lot and enjoyed the hell out of it.

The next step in my re-education was Livestock Guarding Dogs. There are countless breeds of dog all over the planet that never set foot inside a house, but live their entire lives with their flocks. These are true working dogs, and other than some early imprinting and training guidance, have virtually no need for humans - their flocks are all they require. I know several ranchers with LGDs who wouldn't have livestock without the dogs. And the data on their effectiveness against predation is longstanding and should be made note of by ranchers and our beloved elected officials negotiating grazing rights. Want to graze your stock on state or federal land? Shut up about wolves and get some LGD's... but I digress.

And then came the realization that - shocker - my dogs already were living in a kennel. Now it looked an awful lot like my master bedroom, and that's where I sleep, but the reality was pretty clear. I already had a kennel, and I lived in it. The dog "stuff" had taken over - taken over the bedroom the mudroom, the garage, the family room, the kitchen, food dishes in every room, stuff in the shed, the barn, the agility field... leashes, crates, toys, dog beds, and of course the dogs themselves strewn everywhere - not to mention endless doghair.

At some point in the middle of all this I started getting "extra" dogs, ones that belonged to friends, a foster or rescue of some variety, but dogs that weren't technically mine but that were going to live with us for a while. And we have a cat. So dogs that come in our home MUST be cat-safe, and with some dogs that's a deal-breaker. Not to mention there's a quantity issue: our house isn't particularly large and we own only so many crates. (At one point recently we had 14 dogs here, one with severe aggression issues. It was a real managment headache to move that many dogs safely.)

And the last straw of reality was raising my new puppy. A dear friend got a scottish deerhound puppy a couple of weeks before I brought home a borzoi puppy; we instantly decided to raise them together. Sighthounds play best with "one of their own" and unlimited free exercise helps ensure proper growth and development. So I converted one stall in our barn to a dog "palace" (and she converted half their lean-to) so the girls could have access to shelter and shade as well as a large outdoor space (now over 2 acres of their own). The result so far is a pair of puppies with great structure and muscle, well versed in play and dog manners, not to mention quite tired at night. I think it's the only way to fly.

So, I made a deal with my husband: he got half the barn, I got the shed. It's 144 square feet, one window, built in shelving, already has power. Should be pretty great one of these days. The conversion from shed to kennel is 50% complete; pictures will be added soonish. A majority of "stuff" has been consolidated on the shelves, permanent sleeping bunks are nearly finished, insulation is being analyzed, the doggie door in process. I'll never get the dog stuff out of the kitchen, and dog hair is just part of my reality, and that's just fine.

And hubby doesn't know it yet, but I have my sights set on the hay shed next...

Saturday 23 August 2008

Breakthrough

The other day a puppy changed somebody's life. I know this absolutely, down to the cells in my bone marrow - because I saw a boy kiss a dog.

Not just any boy, but a juvenile offender convicted of a violent crime. We'll call him Billy - obviously, not his real name. Billy had told us, his teachers, that his previous experience with dogs involved pit fighting. He had said that to him, dogs were "valuable" because of the money he could earn when his dogs won their fights.

These kids - called kids even though some of them are over 18 - have seen and done some pretty awful stuff. For the most part, we don't know and we don't want to know why they are incarcerated. We (the instructors) are there (at the jail) to teach these kids dog training skills. This is most effective if we work with the kids in front of us - who they are now, not who they were or what they did.

Of course, they learn much more than "just" dog training skills. They learn how to be creative and to experiment - and fail - safely. They learn how to hold their bodies and use equipment
properly. They learn successive approximation ("baby steps" to shaping a finished behavior), reward strategies, and positive reinforcement. They learn, through application, the value of bonding, consistency and fairness. They learn trust, and patience. And, they learn non-violent problem solving - how cool is that? All while on one end of a leash, developing a relationship with a member of another species.

So how does someone go from betting on dogfighting to kissing a dog? I have no clue. It was a private moment observed by chance, I doubt Billy even knows I saw it. I would ask the dogs to tell me their secrets, but I have a feeling it's dog magic, and we humans couldn't do it anyway.
Sometimes, that magic leaves me profoundly moved.

Tuesday 19 August 2008

Fallen Idols

I suppose it's part of the natural order, but I'm still finding it a bit of a shocker: two instructors I've learned so much from, aren't living up to expectations.

This isn't an uncommon experience - finding a single individual who is both a great instructor (of people) and a great trainer (of dogs) is hard. Finding one that is also a great handler is even more rare. My son's first agility instructor, Donna D'Amico, spoiled us for life - she is all three: superior instructor, trainer, and handler. Little did I appreciate what a tough act to follow she would be.

Upon our move back to New Mexico, we first trained with a world-famous agility handler. Unfortunately, she can't teach her way out of a paper bag, so that was short-lived. I've since observed she's a pretty one-dimensional trainer, so I'm glad we moved on. Even worse, this is pretty common with a lot of agility instructors; many are good at either training or handling, few are good at instructing.

Recently I have had two particularly disappointing experiences. Instructors I deeply respect - for going on eight years - have turned out to either mediocre trainers or very limited as handlers. One has been my mentor for many years now, and I'm finding her shortcomings particularly difficult to accept.

As instructors, we all long for the student that surpasses us - but I'm finding that an uncomfortable place to be. I don't know why, but it is. Great instructors are so terribly rare, I guess I hoped (without realizing it) that these two, at least, would always be more knowledgeable, more skilled, than I am.

What that means, I suppose, is that I now have the opportunity to go looking for a new mentor.

Wednesday 13 August 2008

a perfect storm of stupid

NOTE: On 8/20 I received an e-mail from the mother referred to in the following post. She was, to put it mildly, upset with my perspective. In the interest of not antagonizing her further, the following post had been edited to further obfuscate the identify of the family.

It is not my habit to "revise" posts, as I believe they reflect my feeling and opinions at a given point in time.
I stand by my feelings - they are mine, after all, but can appreciate that hers were hurt. Interestingly, the breeder's post on a public list presented different facts; the following is my perspective on what I was told at the time it happened.

--------------------

Must be the season for group stupidity. No point in making a bad decision by yourself, I suppose...

A perfectly nice family from the midwest
who hasn't had borzoi in many years, finds a breeder in another part of the country (known for not socializing his puppies), flies to said breeder, gets a rental van, picks up a puppy, and starts driving home. They get to Albuquerque, NM and spend the night. The next morning they load the van, take the dog out to potty - and the puppy bolts.

A few good things happen next... the mother calls this breeder, who calls NBRF, who alerts the New Mexico rescue person, who notifies all NM borzoi people, who in turn set the entire NM sighthound community on fire with the news. So far, so good.

Now, however, it starts to fall apart. The mother is paralyzed with shock, unable to direct the many volunteers how to help. Turns out the puppy (whom I shall refer to as "Rover") is NOT microchipped, and on a nylon slip collar with NO TAGS. Idiot breeder - how dare you release a puppy that isn't chipped, much less to somebody that shows up without a tag in hand?!? AND the puppy was on a flexi, not a regular leash. I HATE flexis, the handles make a ton of noise when they hit the ground, no wonder this puppy bolted in terror. Clearly, this is an inexperienced borzoi owner - the breeder should have screened and counseled more carefully.

Good news - flyers get made up and a reward is offered. The neighborhood where the puppy was headed is covered on foot, but nobody sees anything. Media outlets are asked to cover the story, plans made for a "lost dog" newspaper ad, etc. But - wait for it - the family is still planning to leave the next morning! How on earth do you leave town with the puppy still out there?? I do NOT get this?!?!? Turn in the rental car and buy a plane ticket for later in the week - it just isn't that hard to suck it up. Well, apparently it is too hard for some people.

So here we are, nearly four days later, and there have been NO sightings of this puppy. How exactly a 29", 70# puppy vanishes into thin air in broad daylight in the middle of a metropolitan area is beyond me, but he has. Volunteers continue to comb the area (and expand the area), check shelters, and pester local businesses. My fingers are crossed that somebody found Rover already, and took him in. Now we need to make sure that person finds out Rover has owners that want him back and will pay a reward to get him. But that could be a tough sell... no chip, no tags...

UPDATE: at 10:30 this morning, Rover was found - alive! Terrified and exhausted, but now wearing a collar with proper tags. WHEW.

Tuesday 5 August 2008

You can't be serious, can you?

Oy. Yesterday was Monday, and it was a Monday with a vengeance. It began and ended with phone calls, which seems innocuous enough - but no, oh no.

First, every service dog I worked with last week is down with something that looks like bordetella, one is so ill he was at the emergency vet at 11:30 at night. There's a remote possibility I carried it home on my clothes - yikes. Commonly called "kennel cough" this category of disease is easy to diagnose and easy to treat - if caught early. There is a vaccine, but like the common cold in humans, there are so many strains the vaccine is not particularly effective. It went through our house last year, and I for one don't *ever* want to repeat the honking geese sound coming out of my dogs - or the string of sleepless nights. I'm now a big fan of the scorched earth policy when it comes to bordetalla: one sick dog gets everybody on Doxycycline. Not cheap, but smart.

Latest news from the office: could be an outbreak of canine influenza. Oh joy. Lab results due tomorrow. We remain in lock-down until a diagnosis is confirmed.

Update: three service dogs in hospital, one dead. Not bordatella, not canine influenza, positive for parainfluenza - obviously not one covered by the vaccine. I stop going to work for a week and put my entire ranch under 10-day quarantine. Luckily, none of my dogs (nor the guest bitch) take ill.

Next, a family that wants to donate a six month old puppy to the service dog organization (I'm a contract instructor/trainer) for training. While this sounds very nice, I'm always leery of dogs people don't want to keep. The owner's wife's uncle brought the dog to me for evaluation, and upon reviewing the limited paperwork, I discovered the dog never got her last puppy shots, and has never been vaccinated against rabies! In addition, she is fed Old Yeller brand food (oh, the irony), lives outside 7x24, is intact, no microchip, no health clearances on her or her parents. The breeder sold this puppy without a contract, a sure sign of a backyard breeder (at best) or puppy mill (at worst) - no ethical breeder would ever do that. And somebody seriously thinks this is a good service dog candidate?!?! No, but thanks for calling. God only knows what will happen to this puppy, they can't afford to keep her - which is saying something since she gets no veterinary care and is eating garbage.

Let's see... next up was a GREAT training class with some convicted offenders - seriously, we had a blast. These kids are working hard and will make great trainers, not to mention what they are learning about non-violent problem solving.

But - then I get back to my car and check voice mail; new clients I met last week had to break up a bitch-fight with a gun, one of the bitches is now dead. They had strict instructions to keep the bitches separated (crated in different rooms) but something happened, they got together, and it went straight to hell. This is the problem with management: at some point, it fails. Always. Management is a decent stop-gap until training is complete, but never ever works long term.

Today is pouring rain, mud up to our ankles; I've canceled all my classes for today. I think I'll turn off the phone, make some popcorn, and pop in a movie. And keep my ears open for sounds of coughing, honking, and gagging.