A page from my journal - digging out of a bad headspace.

Prologue: This is longer than usual because I'm sharing my very real struggle of getting myself back in a good headspace after a disappointing day. On Friday, Moxie and I had Rally, and it didn't go well. As I write this on Saturday morning, we are entered in Open Obedience today and Sunday. Based on yesterday's performance, I'm in a REALLY negative headspace. Thankfully, we run "after noon" (IYKYK) so I have some time. I entered her in this trial specifically because it takes place where we train, and I thought that would help us. Here is my unfiltered process, a "page" out of my journal.

This morning, I'm struggling. I'm trying to get into the right headspace for Mox. So I'm thinking good thoughts and positive visualizations and reminding myself that she knows all-the-things. As I'm embracing this energy, the dogs take off toward the back gate and Mox does a nasty takedown of the puppy, and I'm instantly yelling. And now I'm mad at her, me, and the whole situation, and I start over.

Now we're walking, and I'm thinking about my process goals and what I truly want to happen today. As I run through the process goals that I would typically choose - connection, fun, confidence - I have to ask if I'm in 100% control of any of these, and I'm not. Ugh. Maybe my strong connection pushes her away? So I need to be aloof?? And I certainly can't "make" her have fun, so what steps can I take to create fun? Or to improve her confidence? Because connection, fun, and confidence feel like outcome goals (at least in this moment).

I think back to other times when I have successfully created the right "vibe" for Moxie to be successful. What those times have in common is that I really, truly, for-really-real let go of any expectations and didn't "care." I approached the runs not in a defeated way but with a mindset that reflected that I was running a dog who didn't have the skills to do what I was asking - that they were in progress, much like a baby dog in the novice ring for the first time. Sort of like when we choose to run dogs in a class just to see where they are. Okay, I can do that.

And then it comes back to me, all the literal years of training and the evidence (in training) that she has the skills in spades! That we have both done our jobs in practice and we know how to do this! Frustration floods back in instead of the visualizations of us doing it right. I admit to myself that I'm angry at her; I'm holding a grudge. She's 8.5 yo and *should* have finished this title years ago. She's literally the smartest and most gifted dog I've ever had, and she refuses to do it. I admit that I ruined her.

I let myself have this tantrum for only a minute or two before I remind myself that she is a dog and probably doesn't have it out for me, that this is not some master plan of torture. (Probably) I breathe and return to what I know and can control. Regarding the growth model, our run is not in the comfort zone or even in the growth zone - this is high risk. That is, there is a high risk of things going wrong because I am pushing her beyond her capabilities. (Because the skill she lacks is "competing.") Come to think of it, it's beyond our capabilities as a team, too. Whoa, that realization stings a bit. It's horribly sad to think that in 8.5 years, I have not developed a relationship with Mox that I am proud of. Ugh. {Don't spiral, don't spiral, don't spiral, there's no time for spiraling.}

Back to what I can do. I can be more compassionate. After all, I'm asking a dog to do something she doesn't love doing. Just thinking that fills me with guilt. Should I pull? Efff! If it were up to Mox, she would work all day but never compete. Meanwhile, I would compete every day that ends in "y." Mismatch. More guilt. But this is also good feedback and information. Do I run so we can work on our issues? If so, what's my compassionate frame of mind to support my dog, who doesn't want to be there? Am I giving up if I don't run? Avoiding doing the hard thing? GAH!

The journaling has helped (as it magically does!). I am going to run her, and I am going to embrace compassion for the fact that she's doing something for me that she'd prefer not to do, AND that she doesn't have the skill of competing. (Gawd, we need a communicator session!) I will have zero expectations and get my intensity level to as close to zero as I can. Ah, this isn't about having process goals for her! It's about having process goals for me! {Palm to face.} Duh. Okay, this is a plan. I will practice being a better human ONLY, and then whatever she does, she does. No disappointed energy. Visualize us practicing in that. I want THAT vibe in myself. In my visualization, I couldn't care less about the exercise; I just want to be that relaxed. Okay.

So now I move to defining what success looks like. Success is NOT about the exercises, or connection, or confidence. Success will be if I keep my laid-back-chill-it's-only-practice vibe. Success will be not caring. Raging celebration will happen for anything WE do right together as a team. Yes, YES! This I feel I can do. I now have a clearly defined set of process goals as well as a "vibe" to visualize. THIS is what I will repeat for the next two hours.

Getting to this point has taken me three hours and a good night's sleep. Normally, I would have done this all in my head, but I'm proud of myself for going from a walk in the field to journaling. No matter what happens today, I'm counting this as a win.

Epilogue: Often, on bad days, I ask, "But was it an investment in future performance?" For instance, Kelsea's Novice run was a mess and reflected a 14-month-old who sat in a crate 5.5 hours before running (use your imagination). Yet, I consider it a successful investment since she just needs "miles" right now.

The question is, was Moxie's run an investment in her future? Did I make progress by releasing all outcomes and being supportive and compassionate, or did she rehearse the same behaviors? Honestly, I'm not sure. From the outside watching, it looked like a hot mess with some glimmers. I got some wonderful advice from a friend whose dogs are a joy to watch, for which I'm grateful and motivated. I don't give up easily, but I also don't like not knowing the solution. I'm sad instead of frustrated, and I also feel like I need a better plan before entering her again. Hmmm. To be continued ...