Iron Dog

It has been a while since I last blogged, which is largely due to the fact that Brian came home on leave from his deployment to Afghanistan and we’ve had two lovely weeks together, filled with hanging out around the house, exploring the local area, getting some shopping done, and traveling to Pennsylvania for a long weekend to meet with two of our friends from southern Virginia, who are now providing our Abby with her well-deserved warm-climate retirement home.

Brian left to return to Afghanistan on Friday morning, which means he’s probably stuck in Kuwait as I type this, hoping for a flight to Afghanistan to materialize in the very near future, which may or may not happen as planned. Military travel is always fun. When he came home on leave, he left on Saturday and arrived on Wednesday – and he called me at 2am on Monday to tell me he’d call me again once he knew when and where he’d be arriving. The fun just never ends.

After Brian left on Friday morning, I returned back home, packed, and left for Vermont with Ronja where we competed in the 2010 Green Mountain Iron Dog Competition, which is an annual competition for police working dogs and civilians in Vermont. Jess and her pup, Max, joined us and we made our way across New York and down to Colchester, Vermont, as a mini-convoy – stopping along the way, of course, to regain feeling in our feet and let the dogs out to potty.

We had a really wonderful time at the event. Although it has been raining and cold for the past two weeks (of course – just in time for Brian’s leave!), the weather suddenly cleared up on Friday morning and we had a sunny day with temperatures in the upper 80′s for our drive to Vermont and our first evening at Camp Dudley where the event was held. During the summer, Camp Dudley is a YMCA camp for girls and has a number of bungalows with real toilets, hot showers, and, of course, bunk beds. Being the first competitors there, we were able to check out the bungalow and claim the best bunks. Well, maybe not the “best” bunks, but it did allow us to go in and “claim” the one room that had just two beds (and a door!) so we were able to leave the puppies loose in the room over night instead of having to crate them.

After hanging out at the registration building, which is the cafeteria when camp is in session, and meeting a couple of the officers and K-9 Casko, we decided to turn in early and get a good night’s sleep. As far as I’m concerned, that was a good thing – I’d been up since 4:30 that morning, having had to drop Brian off at the airport by 6am. Ronja curled up on the bed with me, and Max slept “between” the two beds, which meant that he was half under the beds and half between them.

Iz in ur bedz, stealing ur comfies.

For the most part, we had a good night’s sleep. Of course, the beds are wooden bunks with thin, saggy mattresses – although each of our bunks had 2 mattresses on them! – and they creak something fierce, so we would wake ourselves up rolling over in bed or shifting positions during the night. The dogs were quiet for the most part, except when people came in late at night and then got up early in the morning, at which times both dogs barked and woke us up.

By the time the pups woke us up on Saturday morning, it was 6:30 and we’d set our alarm for 7 since people would begin arriving for the event by about 7:30 to 8, with registration starting at 8:30, and we needed to move our vehicles from the side of the road to the field behind the building before things got started. So we rolled out of bed, took the dogs out for a walk, and then showered and got dressed. Thankfully, the camp has nice showers with hot water, and real bathrooms!

After getting dressed, we headed up to registration, signed our final waivers (which said that it was “very likely” that either our dogs or we would get injured and that we were aware of the risks), and got our goody bags, containing a brochure for the event, the event rules, a tin of dog treats, a coupon for a free event T-shirt, and various fliers and brochures, including one for Lacey’s Fund, which provides funds to cover health care costs for retired police dogs in Vermont.

Not too long thereafter, people started arriving in droves – over 50 teams competed in the main event – vendors set up, and things started rolling. By 9am, the event officially started at the registration building when the participants were greeted, the event schedule was read, and the walk-through of the main course – a 1.5 mile obstacle course for dogs and handlers – began, led by officer Dave Dewey and his Malinois, Tazor. Dave walked us all the way through the course, explaining what we needed to do where, and demonstrating some of the obstacles with Tazor. It was pretty obvious right away that this was going to be one long mile and a half!

Dave and Tazor demonstrate the first obstacle.

After the walk-through, we returned to the registration building where a large butcher block of paper was now posted, listing all the runners, their dogs’ names, and their starting times, with a column at the end of each category for the runner’s time. As luck would have it, I was chosen to be the first runner to enter the course – I have a long and proud history of having to go first, so this was not much of a surprise.

Unfortunately, this also meant that I had just walked the entire course at a very fast pace and now had to run to my vehicle to get both my dog (the walk-through was done without dogs) and my ballistic vest (did I mention all runners had to wear either a ballistic vest or a flotation vest used to simulate wearing a ballistic vest?), then rush back to the starting line. If I had to change anything about the event, I would insert about 20 minutes or so between the walk-through and the start of the run. But that’s just me. And I’m just saying that because I had to go first…

So I rushed back to the starting line, throwing my ballistic vest on as I went, and had my number (“1″) affixed to the front of me, and off we went. The course first began on a gravel trail, which wound around the corner and then tilted steeply downward to the beach alongside Lake Champlain, which the camp overlooks. Ronja and I jogged our way down the lane until we saw orange bio-hazard tape, which was used to mark the trail and obstacles. As instructed, we kept to the left of the tape and jogged through a patch of trees, then found ourselves on the beach, which is every bit as muddy and silty as it looks in the photo above. Since it is also slick as all hell, we slowed down to a walk until we reached the pier, then bravely set out into the water, taking care to ensure my shoes didn’t come right off my feet in the mud. (It seemed likely.) Fortunately for me, the water was not very high since Ronja does not appreciate swimming and deep water would have resulted in a definite DO NOT WANT moment.

Having reached the end of the pier with very cold, wet feet and lower legs, I grabbed my first piece of “evidence” – a pencil from the two pencil boxes perched on the far end of the pier. We sloshed back to the beach and made our way through the woods, following little orange flags, which led us to the Most Ridiculous Hill Ever(tm). The hill in question is  labeled officially as a “sand slide” on the camp’s path markers, but in reality it’s a narrow, very steep, and very long hill. It’s the hill that keeps on going. Urgh. (Actually, hearing and reading comments from previous participants, the hill appears to have been the major complaint, as last year’s hill was much shorter.)

I tried to convince Ronja that she would really want to pull me up the hill but, alas, that was not going to happen, so we crawled our way to the top and continued on the path at a brisk walk, trying to catch our breath. (Well, okay … my breath. Ronja was ready to sprint the entire course.) After what appeared to be a very long time in the woods, we reached horse fencing and followed the orange tape to the spot where we were to go through the fence (through meaning between the horizontal beams, rather than over), and then continued on toward the barn. We’d been warned during the walk-through to be on the look-out for a large, burgundy truck that was “wanted” in connection with a crime, and instructed to remember the license plate number as we had to give it to one of the course judges after crossing the finish line. Being right out in the open, the truck was easy to find – but being halfway down the course, there were plenty of opportunities to forget the plate number.

After going through the barn, we crossed the gravel road into the camp and then came to the next obstacle, a set of two wires that were designed to simulate barbed wire. Again, we had to cross between the two wires just like we’d crossed between the boards of the fence prior to getting to the barn.

I’ve found that it’s easiest to get my dog to follow me through such obstacles if I am halfway through, so that she can see how to get through and where I am at, so I put one foot on the other side, pulled my body through, and then called her to jump. Somehow, I managed to trip myself on the wire and nearly face-planted right into the adjacent tree. It was not very graceful. It was also, fortunately, not captured on film or digits, though it was observed by a judge.

After the wire obstacle, our next obstacle was the smoke house, which was one of the bungalows in which several smoke grenades had been set off. The particular smoke used was a kind of vegetable oil smoke, which smelled very much like French fries and wasn’t overly thick, nor did it make it difficult to breathe. Although we’d been warned to make sure none of us would plow into the bunk beds if we couldn’t see our way, it turned out to be relatively good visibility and we had no trouble crossing to the back door and getting out of the building.

Our next obstacle was a low-crawl underneath a camouflage net, which was positioned next to a tetherball set. When we arrived, one of the children attending the event as a spectator was playing with the tetherball while her mom stood nearby to watch the teams running the course. That was, of course, a bad thing, since Ronja is utterly obsessed with tetherball. I asked the girl to stop until we had passed and pulled Ronja through the low-crawl after me, then focused her attention on the upcoming culvert, a long “pipe” of polymer plastic that both Ronja and I had to crawl through. She, of course, could stand up in it and gallop right through. Or at least she could have, were it not for the fact that she was leashed. She wound up going through it backwards with me coming toward her, much to the amusement of everyone who saw us. (Again – thankfully, no pictures!)

The next obstacle was for the handler – a shooting challenge. After putting Ronja in a sit/stay, I took the pistol that was handed to me by one of the two observers, and took my place in “the magic box”, a square on the ground from where I had to shoot. (Walking fire into the target was not allowed.) The pistols used were CO2 powered Airsoft pistols, something along the lines of a Glock 17 design, and the targets were children’s drawings of “good guys” and “bad guys” mounted on a metal back stop. I had to identify the “bad guys” and shoot each of them twice. Although I’ve not shot pistols in more than a year (due to the fact we now live in the wonderful state of New York, which has some really ridiculous gun laws), I actually did quite well. I shot both my bad guys in under 10 seconds. All I can say is, “Hooray for muscle memory.”

After shooting, we both had to cross two road barriers, then enter the dog-only obstacle course were all dogs would have to do the obstacles but the handlers only had to direct them. (As opposed to all the other obstacles on the course, which were done by both dog and handler.) These began at an L-shaped tunnel, which seems to have an absolutely irresistible smell right at the bend that Ronja needed to stop and check out. Then it goes on to a narrow dog walk (seen in this photo) where the dog walks up a ramp and across a narrow board, then jumps off at the end. The next obstacle is a very tall A-frame (in the background of this photo), a window jump (in the background of this photo), a regular jump (as seen in this picture, but with additional boards), and a jump over a blue plastic barrel.

Ronja cleared all of the obstacles wonderfully. I knew she would have a hard time with the dog walk since she doesn’t always know where all of her little paws are at, especially those attached to hind legs, so I took her by the collar and cautioned her with the command “slow” to make sure she would take it slow and not take any bad steps. That did the trick. She had no trouble with the A-frame or the window jump. The regular jump had given her a hard time when we had a chance to try it out the night before, as she wasn’t able to clear it easily – her front half would make it over, but her back half would not. Today, she took a big leap, pushed off on the top with her hind feet, which is allowed, and made it. I was so proud of her!

After the obstacles, we followed the orange flags through some very thick, black mud and brambles to another long culvert, this one slanted slightly downward. At this point, another runner and her dog overtook us because they had skipped the obstacles section since they were there primarily for the run, and I let them go through the culvert first since it wouldn’t be possible to do it at the same time and she would probably have overtaken me, anyway.

After making it out of that tube and the yucky mud – Ronja managed to pull me forward while I was getting over a log laying across the trail and I wound up right in the mud! – we were back along the gravel road and up for the tactical obedience portion. This required me to place her in a sit/stay behind a barrel while I advanced to a tree in front of me, then call her to heel and have her sit/stay again while I went to the next tree, and so on, until I reached a tree with my second piece of “evidence”, which was my choice of either a slip leash or a Frisbee.

From there, we went down the gravel road, through one more culvert and over one more road block, and then the finish line was within sight – except I now had to pick my dog up and carry her over the line. Yikes. After staggering across the line, I was asked for the license plate number of the truck and showed my two pieces of evidence, and I got our time – 20 minutes, 07 seconds. We did pretty well, all things considered.

We spent some time winding down after our run and saw Jess and Max off as their starting time came around, then Ronja had a free massage from Vermont’s only licensed canine massage therapist, which she very much enjoyed. She also sampled some dog treats made from baked liver that she could have cared less about, and we went back to our room to drop off the ballistic vest and grab my money so I could buy a long-sleeve event shirt and lunch (hot dogs) for the two of us.

We also competed in the 100 yard dash and we were allowed to compete in the law-enforcement-only building search, which were both a ton of fun for Ronja. For the 100 yard dash, the rules said that the handler could do anything he wanted to make the dog go to the finish line faster – the handler could be at the finish line, calling the dog, or waving a toy, or even send someone else down there for the dog to run to. We were even allowed to have someone with a bite sleeve on the other end, which is what I chose to do for Ronja since she loves to do her bite work. Needless to say, once she saw the sleeve, she flew across the field – 100 yards in 6.78 seconds! At the time she ran, she had the second-fastest time, after a Greyhound who ran it in 6.4 seconds. The final winner ended up doing it in 6.3 seconds (if memory serves).

She very much surprised me with the building search since I expected her to be uncomfortable being placed in that situation. From what we know about her history, she was shot during a building search, so I did not expect her to do well but I figured as soon as she would see the bite sleeve, she would want it so badly that she would be just fine.

The rules for the building search required that you walked your dog to the threshold, which was the end of the “hallway” leading into the bungalow, then announce to the “bad guy” you are about to send the dog in, then send the dog. At this point, no other commands can be given to the dog until after the dog finds the bad guy and bites the sleeve. The “bad guy” was hidden in a large room with bunk beds, four sets of bunk beds on each side, perpendicular to the walls, so it was not immediately obvious where he was at. I sent Ronja down with “Go get ‘em!” and she ran down and to the right, sniffed the top mattress, then spun around, saw the “bad guy” on the opposite aisle between the beds and got her bite.

Of course, time was still running – according to the rules, the dog had to be called off the bite by the handler, and called back to the handler. Time did not stop until the dog crossed the threshold again, coming toward the handler. Ronja doesn’t particularly have a good “out” on the sleeve unless the person she is biting is “not resisting the dog” – meaning, they’re laying on the ground and aren’t moving – so I was not surprised that, when I called her to out (she did) and then to come, she went back for a second bite before coming. She still did it in just over 20 seconds, though – 20:21, to be exact. As most of the K-9 teams averaged between 15 and 19 seconds, we weren’t doing so bad. We even beat one dog/handler team who took 27 seconds because the dog wouldn’t out, which made me feel pretty darn good about Ronja’s performance!

After Jess came back from her run – they also did well, Max even let her carry him! – we checked out the fire department’s demo, which included spraying water from several hoses on their fire truck, which was pretty cool. Ronja didn’t like it very much because she was afraid she would get a bath, and stood behind me, where the evil water couldn’t see her. They also ran the sirens on the fire truck, and Jess got Max to talk-howl along with them. It was very cute – unfortunately, I didn’t get any video of him doing it. (But there’s video of Max talk-howling on Jess’s YouTube!)

It wasn’t before long that everyone finished their runs and we all found ourselves in front of the reception building once more for the awards ceremony. First up were the kids, who had their own, smaller course, and were awarded ribbons for competing. I think all the kids who competed got a ribbon so that everyone received a reward and nobody was left out, but they were awarded in order from fastest time to slowest time. Then the awards were given for the 100 yard dash, the building search, and the drug search. The fastest time for the drug search was just over 5 (five!) seconds, which is pretty darn cool.

And then it was on to the main awards.

An award is being awarded.

The awards for the main course were given in categories sorted by gender and age. Each first-place winner received a medal, a stainless steel dog bowl engraved with the Vermont Police Canine Association logo and the place awarded, and a 2011 Cops & Dogs calendar. Each second-place winner received a medal and a bowl. The four overall fastest runners received additional awards and gift certificates.

The overall fastest time was 11:27 seconds, which is pretty amazing for a run of this type, considering all of the different types of obstacles and the varied terrain. It was followed closely by 11:46 and 11:14. Naturally, these were all male police officers. The slowest time was 31 minutes and some change, with most runs falling somewhere between 17 and 25 minutes, regardless of gender or age group.

I’d checked out the score board a few times throughout the day and, when I checked it just before awards, my time put me in third place in my division (women ages 30-39), which was more than okay with me. I have a proud history of taking third place in dog competitions, and considering I tripped myself, my dog had me land face-first in the mud, and we walked more of the course than we ran, it was better than I could have ever asked for.

Since they were giving awards only for first and second place in each category, except for the overall winners where it was first through forth, I wasn’t expecting to win anything since I was in third, and I was snapping pictures of a very cute dog from their puppy program when mine and Ronja’s names were announced as the second place winners. Huh? Apparently, the person with the next fastest time was disqualified, either because she didn’t remember the license plate number, or didn’t pick up all the evidence, or didn’t complete all the obstacles, which put Ronja and me squarely in second place, which was pretty awesome.

Ronja wants nothing to do with a bowl that has no food.

After the awards were given out, all runners who completed the course – including those who were disqualified for skipping obstacles or whose dogs simply wouldn’t do them – received a medal for participating in the Iron Dog and coming out to support the event, proceeds from which go to a good cause, and which was an absolute blast to do.

I had originally planned to also stay the night until Sunday and then take a leisurely drive home on Sunday morning, but Jess was planning to return home that day, since she had some things to get done on Sunday. After mulling it over a bit, I saw that nearly everyone but the crew running the event had left, and since it was still pretty early in the day (just before 3pm), I decided to also head home, so we packed up our gear, loaded up the dogs, and headed back to New York in the afternoon.

All in all, fun was had. Friends were made. The dogs had a blast. Ronja even got to play tetherball.

I has a BALL!