Books by Ian Rogers
Books by Ian Rogers
One day Heather took her own dogs and Jilly for a run in the local community wood. The dogs were racing about when Jilly suddenly collapsed and couldn’t get up. Heather had to phone a nearby house and the husband brought a wheel barrow. Between them they lifted Jilly in and got her home. The vet diagnosed spondylosis - little out growths of bone between the vertebrae of the spine. These can bridge across and fuse one vertebra to another, initially making the spine stiff and then giving pain if they are snapped by sudden movement. Jilly was given anti-inflammatories, kept quiet for several weeks and then had hydrotherapy. She recovered remarkably well but we discouraged jumping, fast running and turning.
The annual Carnival in my home village usually has an ‘exemption’ dog show. That’s one that is not run according to kennel Club rules; anyone can have a go with any dog. There are classes like ‘cutest puppy’, ‘most handsome dog’ and ‘best obedience’. I always wanted to take our last dog, Shana, to the Carnival but she was a very skitty, almost panicky dog and I knew she couldn’t do it. This year when I was at the Carnival I thought of Jilly, now aged thirteen. On the spur of the moment I walked to Jane’s house and asked if I could take Jilly to try the agility course. Jane was willing but sceptical. With some trepidation I walked Jilly, on her lead, onto the Carnival field. There was a band playing just inside the entrance. There were loads of people about and quite a few dogs, both on and off their leads. She took it all in her stride, as calm as if we did it every day. In the dog area we watched a mastiff doing the simple agility circuit. At least, I watched.
I thought Jilly would be fascinated but, despite my encouragement to look, she stared off into mid field! We were next up. I told Marion, the young lady organiser, that Jilly was thirteen, had been a failure at agility as a young dog due to all the distractions that she had a bad back and that she was a borrowed dog that I walked a bit. Marion lowered the bars of the jumps til they were lying on the grass and we were off. Through one ‘jump’ - I doubt if Jilly even noticed it, she just walked through. On to the ‘wiggle posts’ (I am sure they’ve got a proper name). Pause for a breath to steady ourselves and ‘go’ again. I nudged Jilly left between the first two wiggle poles, then pulled her gently right between the next two. I walked alongside the poles and commanded ‘through’ for left turns and gave her a knee-nudged and said ‘back’ for right turns and gave a little tug on the lead. Jilly weaved through the poles like an experienced competitor rather than a total novice, following the nudges and tugs as if she’d done it all her life. She walked through another jump and on to the tunnel.
“If you give me the lead,” Marion said, “you can go the other end and call her through.”
“She’ll OK,” I said, with rash confidence. I dropped the lead and said “Through” with a hand gesture. Jilly took off so fast I had to run round the outside and scoop up her lead at the other end before she wondered off aimlessly round the arena! Another ‘jump’, then a pyramid for Jilly to walk up one side and down the other. Many dogs leap off the top but not Jilly. She ambled over and down as if her mind was somewhere else. Two more jumps, then we came to a ramp to a raised walkway with a down ramp on the far side. We nearly missed that one. Jilly started to walk past the ‘up’ ramp.
“No,” I said, gently pulling to slow her and a little bit sideways. “Up, up.” She hopped onto the and up ramp and strolled up it to the aerial runway. With the confidence of a tightrope walker she trotted along it and then kept a slow, steady pace down the ‘off’ ramp all the way to the ground. She started to head for the exit, clearly thinking she had finished so I had guided her through the last jump. When she did trot out of the exit, having finished with a clear round, she stood wagging amiably as if to say “OK, what’s next?” Next was lots of praise and a handful of treats.
“Well done, dog,” I said. “I’m proud of you” and I was. Marion was very impressed, too. I don’t think Jilly knew what she’d achieved but she enjoyed the treats and got a ‘Well done’ rosette. But there was more to come!
As we left the agility area, I heard Meryl’s mum Tracy call for entries for ‘Dogs over seven’.
“What do we have to do?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just take a place over there and I’ll come round and talk to you and assess the dog.” We paid £2 and took our place in the semicircle of hopeful dogs and owners.
Tracy walked round spending a few minutes with each dog and its owner. None of the dogs did anything other than sit quietly. Then it was our turn. I went through Jilly’s story.
“She’s thirteen and I walk her about once a week for an elderly lady. She failed as a young agility dog because she couldn’t focus but she’s just done a clear round in the arena next door. Would you like to see her tricks?” Yes, Tracy would. Jilly sat, lay, rolled over, stood up and shook hands with Tracy. Jilly got a stroke and a pat and Tracy said she had a well cared-for coat (which hadn’t been brushed for weeks!) Then Tracy was off round the remaining exhibitors.
There was a short delay while Tracy consulted a watching lady with a clip board and then - surprise - we were called out and asked to stand on a spot. Two other dogs were called out as well. Jilly had won first prize for ‘best old dog’. She got a fleece dog blanket, a red ‘1st’ rosette and a carrier bag full of treats. I actually felt a bit guilty when I looked at the dog who was second. He was a short-haired Golden Retriever with one front leg missing.
Walking round the Carnival later Jilly and I met Anna, the eldest Churchman daughter, who was delighted to hear of Jilly’s success. When I got Jilly home, the news had preceded us. Jane was delighted but amazed that Jilly had won anything. This was the dog who, as an unfocused youngster, had been nicknamed ‘the dizzy blonde’!
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