I’ve been wanting to write a post inspired by one of Susan Cain’s beautiful books, Quiet, and Bittersweet for a long time now. Fresh off of a two day judging assignment for Elite and NW2 I’m being pulled towards Bittersweet. So, here we go.
Heating Up and Really Cooking
One of the searches I judged on the Elite day was in a horse arena. It was a large space, mostly empty, with one wall almost completely void of “stuff COs put hides on” from the perspective of a competitor, and one wall full of good hiding objects like trailers, paddock gates, benches, a scissor lift, etc. The other two walls were lightly populated with stuff – but one of those walls was reduced to a few short sections due to two large roll up doors opened for airflow and exiting the search. Finally, there was an aluminum flatbed trailer all by its lonesome across the arena from the start line, just begging to be searched.
Competitors had 5:30 or 6:00 minutes (not really relevant here) and an unknown number of (there were 6) hides. It was an on-leash search. This was a morning search, but temps were already rising into the 80s, humidity was high and the wind was on vacation. – and, thankfully, so were the gnats.
Keep in mind that I’m sharing my perspective on these searches – I know where the hides are, I am not the one who placed them, I get to watch lots of dogs & people search the area. Anything I share here must be taken with skepticism as it is not from the perspective of the dog or the human who are searching blind.
The teams who searched this area with an emphasis on dog-led searching tended to experience a period of time with no finding and lots of soft arcing or circling, slow heavy steps, nose to ground or nose nuzzling a pile of leaves, before breaking through and connecting on a find.
From my perspective, the dog was “heating up” like a pot of water on the stove. I could more easily see this because I’m aware of hide locations and could see the dog’s movements building towards something. A human searching blind knows there’s a pot of water on the stove (dog in search area), but for a good while, the human looks at the water and it’s not boiling or steaming so it’s hard to tell if anything has been happening.
For those humans who patiently watched their pots of water – their dogs – suddenly they’d see little bubbles forming at the base of the pot and up the walls of the pot, and maybe some of those bubbles would take a short journey towards the surface, fizzling out before they made it into the kitchen air. Now the humans were certain their dogs were on to something and they supported them and discovered a hide together!
For the humans who felt the need to fiddle with the knobs on the stove (or poke at the touch screen if you got a fancy electric stove) there was some random success or lack thereof as the dog was controlled and directed and convinced to interact with the search environment. The flatbed trailer was a great example of this. Yes, there was a hide on this sucker. And, yes, a human could feel pretty confident about gambling time on the trailer vs the vast middle of the arena or the long wall with no stuff. Still, some humans fiddled with the environment by parading the dog around that trailer and ended up turning off the burner on the stove – extinguishing the fires of odor – as far as the dog was concerned. The dog couldn’t heat up behaviorally and the human eventually moved on from the trailer.
Some humans felt the need to mess with the water in the pot at times, making it hard to know if heat from the stove was causing changes in the water or not. There was a hide on an orange trailer against the wall to the right of the start line that would produce some behavior changes in most dogs, but progress to source was a little touch & go. Some humans really started dancing back & forth and testing the dog’s honesty, like taking the pot of water off the burner to see if it’s somehow faking the physics of phase change. This made it difficult for the dog to reach a boiling point and confidently display sourcing behavior.
A few times humans messed with the pot of water by taking a straw and blowing bubbles in the pot and calling it boiling water. This led to a couple mistaken alert calls. A human sees possible interest from the dog between the scissor lift hide and the table hide and starts hovering over the dog like a bee at a bbq. Or the dog gets excited about a support post near the folded up portable stairs hide and the human turns into Tony Robbins selling CDs on a late night informational, “hey dog act now, limited supply of treats, special offer for the next alerter…” Of course the dog is gonna take that “where is it?” “show me” “find it find it find it” deal where odor collects on the post. Some humans are great sales people.
Some dogs were really cooking in this 6 hide search. The water was boiling and ready for the pasta! The humans observing these dogs had all sorts of clues to tell them the boiling water was real. Alert calls were made confidently. The dog’s chosen path for problem-solving was followed with care – just like one takes care around boiling water so as not to get burned. When these dogs found 5 or all 6 hides, they began to simmer and then cool, and their humans recognized it was time to take the pot off the stove and get out of the kitchen. Finish was called in a satisfying way as if to wipe the crumbs of desert from the corners of one’s mouth, toss one’s napkin onto one’s empty plate and push away from the table with a full belly and a smile.
Defeat Is Only Possible In Battle
As night passed between the Elite day and the NW2 day, so passed stormy weather throughout the greater twin cities metro. The morning of the NW2 a cloudy sky kept the sun pleasantly filtered, and a bold wind helped to cool the humid air. The fresh rain from the night before seemed to re-animate the gnats and set them dancing upon the air as if encapsulated in an enormous translucent jell-o mold. Just as my right eye swallowed 3 gnats and my left ear housed another 42, the judge’s steward announced the first dog for the day’s only container search.
The setting was a well-worn asphalt driveway leading up to a large outbuilding. On one side of the driveway was a wooden utility pole just a couple feet away from the containers.
The containers were plastic tubs stuffed with colored tissue paper capped off with gray lids. The containers were in two rows. There were two hides – but ya know, it doesn’t really matter for our purposes. The Battle waged by humans wasn’t about the location of hides, it wasn’t about searching for hides. It was about SEARCHING THE CONTAINERS.
Some battles went like this: dog has not interest to go forward towards containers, instead wanting to veer away and catch the odor on the breeze, human restrains dog and redirects to first container in the right row, dog assumes it’s very important and regards it as important with a display of behavior prompting the human to call alert and receive a ‘no, sorry’ from me.
Some battles went like this: human gets out ahead of dog and holds a short tight leash rushing the dog along each row, pausing briefly when the dog has a change in odor, but immediately testing the dog by walking away, causing the dog to move on. As time ticks on, human moves faster and leash gets shorter. Slight variation: human adds a battle cry: find it find it find it find it; and human mobilizes the finger sword, jabbing it past the dog’s face to the containers like a bayonet being thrust into bodies left behind on the field of battle.
Some battles went like this: dog keeps attempting to work odor off of utility post or to loop away from containers but handler yanks dog back to containers and says, “it’s not there, it’s in the containers.” or something similar. Dog keeps trying to complete the mission only to have his commanding officer keep yelling at him to complete the mission. It’s like an odor Catch-22.
Some container searches weren’t battles at all. They were ballads. They were lovely expressions of partnership and mutual agreement. They were quests for meaning. They were all about communication.
One search began with the dog having the freedom to choose her path and she chose not to engage the containers, but to circle the space between the building and the containers. This gave her directional information which she used to close in on the first find. She used a similar approach for the second hide, enjoying the freedom afforded her by her human.
It seems many of us wage war on our dogs when we’re told by other humans, “this is your container search, you have 2 hides and 2 minutes 30 seconds, the start line is here.” Why? Perhaps it is revealing a fundamental mis-framing of the problem at hand. The problem is not “how do I get the dog to search the boxes?” The problem is more like, “how do I afford my dog the opportunity to share with me what he knows about the presence of odor and the location of hides?” Even more specifically, the problem is “how do I wonder about, know and understand my dog’s perspective right now?”
How do some people end up having searches that flow like poetry, where there can be no defeat? Susan Cain suggests letting your “brokenness give way to transcendence”.
The Bittersweet Experience of Transgression Into Transcendence
In Susan Cain’s book, Bittersweet, she quotes an Arab proverb: “Days of honey, days of onion.” She then writes, “The tragedy of life is linked inescapably with its splendor…”
On the Elite day I judged a competitor in 2 of her 4 searches. I’d seen this competitor at other trials, workshops and events over the years. I had a history to draw from as I watched the dog and human search. The arena search was a beautifully balanced conversation between dog and human, a joy to watch – something was different for these two today. There was a calm – a peace – flowing between them, like each step taken was a gift and nothing mattered more than the two of them being together in the arena.
This team’s afternoon search really captivated me. I knew the conditions were challenging and the odor picture was complex. As I watched the dog search and the human support the dog, I witnessed the dog as the center of the universe, and the human closely bound to the dog as if by a law of physics.
Gone were the moments of tension and urgency between human and dog. Gone were the gestures and words of disbelief from human to dog. Gone were the expressions of frustration and disappointment. What was present was pure unconditional love and appreciation, and a desire to share a connection.
At the conclusion of the vehicle search, I stopped the human and conveyed my awe and wonder at the transformation of their partnership. The human thanked me and shared with me that the dog has heart failure and precious little time left.
Such news is bittersweet. Tragedy linked with splendor. My heart aches for this dog and human. But, for two searches on Friday, my heart soared and sang by way of this dog and human. To know such depths of connection – even for a moment – is to touch the divine.
On the NW2 day, I judged 2 searches and observed a 3rd for a team I knew had suffered a tragic loss in the week leading up to the trial. This dog and human were floating through these searches. They were two beings moving as one.
Susan Cain uses the music of Leonard Cohen as an example of “transforming pain into beauty.” She notes that Cohen’s music is “technically sad, but what I feel, really, is love: a great tidal outpouring of it. A deep kinship with all the other souls in the world who know the sorrow the music strains to express.” This is what I observed between the dog and human before, during and after their searches: love and kinship.
Must we suffer tragedy to transcend our typical or previous partnership with our dogs? No! Transcendence is available to us always. I witnessed a number of teams in deep resonance with one another on both trial days – some teams I know well enough to know they had not suffered a great tragedy in the immediate past or present.
What is true of the humans who have suffered real transgression and loss is that they just want to BE with their dogs in the searches. They are not reaching for the perfect search or the fastest time or the top placement. Those things are all possible, but they are not the guiding light of the team. BEING with the dog is the way.
Being with the dog is not the same as giving up on performance. It is not. How do I know this? Because I just shared with you two instances of humans who focused on just being with their dogs and who also experienced efficient and effective searches. I also shared with you instances of humans focused on having an efficient and effective search and in their effort to do so they were not being with their dogs and they were not searching well or finding hides.
Searching for and finding hides isn’t the main focus!
A human who drags her dog across the containers for 2 minutes, pulling the dog’s nose to the containers and jabbing a finger at the containers can still end up finding the hides. Sometimes this human can find the hides fast. A human who is in mutual agreement with the dog and who makes a great effort to be with the dog and understand the dog can still have a search with struggles, confusion, and missed hides or mistaken calls.
What our fellow humans who have suffered loss and experienced transcendence are here to show us is: BEING with your dog is more important than having ‘yes’ calls, fast finds, perfect searches, top placements, titles, ribbons, and accolades. Being with your dog is not a matter of saying, “I don’t care about titles, I just want to have fun.” Being with your dog isn’t the carefree option. It is a commitment. It is a skill. It is a practice. It is the way.
The Bittersweet Of Being With Defeat In The Heat
I want to be careful about addressing the weather conditions – especially on Friday – as related to the searches I observed. My perspective on the heat and what role it played in challenging the teams in their searches is not as relevant as the perspective of the humans and dogs doing the searches.
On Friday, the vehicle search I judged with 3 tractors and a large trailer with grandstand bleachers on it ended up being in the full midday sun. Whatever else was going on for humans and dogs before and after searching, the conditions were most certainly adding to the complexity of the search. The sun and heat coupled with wind, surface changes (tractors on gravel road parallel to mowed grasses and weeds, parallel to a grove of trees), sun & shade, the less typical shapes and contours of the tractors, etc., did not afford many of the dogs a clear and direct path to source. The dogs were making attempts to push past the tractors, to range out beyond the tractors, to push into the un-mowed grasses and weeds at the front of the bleacher trailer. Quite possibly, the heat on the tractors and the road was agitating that odor and creating diffusion and loft that rose up, traveled towards the shade and the tree line, then dropped down with no clear path back to the hides.
I watched numerous humans repeatedly direct the dogs back to the tractors – or away from the tripod holding one of the video service’s cameras as if the dog was not working. I don’t have to guess at that either, several humans exclaimed, “you’re not searching, you must be hot.” It is possible for a dog to be both hot and searching. I’ve seen complex odor problems on a 60 degree fall day producing the same kind of behaviors in dogs, and humans say, “you’re not searching, quit being silly and find it.” But, they don’t attribute the non-searching behavior to heat.
From my perspective many dogs were in deep thought trying to figure out the direction odor was coming from in the vehicle search, but they needed their humans to be all in and to provide patient, open-minded support for as long as it took to reveal the picture.
From my perspective, many humans were expecting the dogs to act normal, search the tractors, and find hides. I saw only one or two humans do anything different with their search routine to show the dog they understood the complexity of the challenge and the added burden of the heat. Most humans just kept acting like this was a typical search and one of the damn tractors should produce a behavior change in the dog because they’ve got the dog physically close to the tractors.
From my perspective there were some very successful searches and some magnificent searches. Humans showed their dedication to understanding the search through their dogs. Teams were in partnership and subtle conversation. Dogs and humans were creating new pathways for problem-solving in concert as the time ticked by. Songs of odor were being written and re-written before my eyes.
In Susan Cain’s Bittersweet, she writes, “The bittersweet is about the desire for communication, the wish to go home.” I think some humans literally wanted to get out of the heat and go home as they were in this search! From my perspective, I watched dogs communicate complexity and humans request/plead for/demand simplicity. It was a bittersweet experience for all of us.
Susan also writes, “The place you suffer, in other words, is the same place you care profoundly – care enough to act.” Depending on the dog and human, profound caring during a time of perceived suffering is a really foreign concept. Most of us fight to avoid suffering, we fight to free ourselves from suffering and we often see suffering as failing, or as increasing the likelihood of future failing.
Suffering doesn’t have to be a battle. Susan’s book references Tara Brach, author of Radical Acceptance. On her website, Tara talks about the story of the night before Siddhartha Guatama became enlightened, and henceforth called the Buddha. According to Tara, Guatama was visited in his sleep by the Demon God Mara, attacking him with lust, greed, anger doubt, etc. Guatama prevailed and resisted Mara, causing him to flee on the morning of Buddha’s enlightenment.
Mara did not disappear for good. He kept at the Buddha, which prompted the Buddha to develop a way of being with Mara: he invited Mara to tea. This practice of inviting “troubling emotions and fearsome stories” to tea is a powerful way to maintain kindness and compassion towards ourselves so we can act compassionately towards our dogs.
In this way, we are not battling or arguing or competing with our dogs in times of challenge, confusion, or frustration, we are wondering with our dogs, conversing with our dogs, and preserving our relationship above all else.
Susan quotes the poet Rumi in Bittersweet. Tara Brach also quotes Rumi on her website. I think the poem Tara chooses has relevance for scent work partnerships:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.Welcome and entertain them all!…
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Rumi
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
If you had the choice, would you battle with your dog for a hide you can’t understand he’s showing you, pulling him away from the place he’s indicating? Or would you be grateful for what your dog is showing you even though you can’t understand it, knowing that acceptance and compassion – while not magical decoder rings – are the way towards understanding?
Turning Bitter And Heat Into Sweet
When I judge I look for magic in every team’s searches. It’s pretty hard to find evidence of magic in a 10 second search. It’s pretty hard to have an entirely magical 6 minute search. I don’t have expectations for a team, I have appreciation. A search can turn from awful to awesome or from wonderful to horrible. I most enjoy being there to go on the journey with the dog & human.
On the Elite day, there was a vehicle search where a human was pushing pretty hard for her dog to search the vehicles and it was feeling like a battle. As the search went on, I saw the human relent a little and let the dog in on the conversation, and the dog accepted the invitation and described a new hide that the human called alert to. It was a magical moment. I pronounced the team for that moment. Hopefully there will be more moments like that for this team.
On the NW2 day I judged a team on the container search where the dog and human were at odds about the route to take to solve the 2 odor puzzles. The dog wanted to expand beyond the containers and the human didn’t. When they called a false alert, the human walked away with an understanding that she’d made an error in how she conversed with her dog.
Later in the day I judged this team at a vehicle search with two vehicles and one hide. She had a dog who was eager to get her to the hide on the far side of the second vehicle away from the start line. He got there and he told her he’d found source. She didn’t want to commit – and she later admitted this – because I, the judge, was nowhere in sight. When she finally took a chance on her partner and called alert and heard the yes, she realized she’d made an error in how she conversed with her dog.
On the last search of the day – the 1 hide exterior – I was not a judge, but I was observing this same team’s effort. Let me tell you, the conversation was flowing between dog and human! How magical that this human could sense her way of being with her dog in the earlier searches and then shift her way of being by the end of the day. What a gift!
This exterior search wasn’t fast, but it was fantastic. It was a human and a dog together in the search for odor. It was a dog confidently and joyfully communicating his experience of the search. It was a human reverently in conversation at boundaries and edges of odor. It was a human all in for the possibility of understanding why her dog was doing what he was doing. And, boy did it become clear to her! After sweeping the edges of the search area for directional info, the dog utilized the front porch and corner of the small building near the start line, circling, arcing and swirling with the odor on the wind, using the corner of the building until he discovered the way forward! His sourcing and indicating was as joyful as the rest of his search. The human was participating in her dog’s way of knowing.
I’ll close with some quotes from Bittersweet, the first, another Rumi poem. Susan Cain chooses Love Dogs, and this passage in particular:
One night a man was crying Allah! Allah!
His lips grew sweet with praising,
until a cynic said, “So!
I’ve heard you calling out, but have you ever
gotten any response?”The man had no answer to that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.
He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick, green foliage.“Why did you stop praising?” “Because
I’ve never heard anything back.”“This longing you express
is the return message.”The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.Your pure sadness
Rumi
that wants help
is the secret cup.
I take this to mean that you may choose to BE with your dog in searches, but it may not seem to bring you answers or bring you ribbons, and you may despair and give up. Do not give up. You are drawing towards your dog, but also feeling a drifting apart. This is the way. To BE with your dog in times of joyful understanding and in times of confusion and despair.
Susan describes the bittersweet as “a tendency towards states of longing, poignancy, and sorrow.” She also suggests that “longing is momentum in disguise: It’s active, not passive; touched with the creative, the tender, and the divine.”
Let yourself focus on your dog and how you are being with your dog, especially on trial days. If you have a rough search or a rough day, sit with those feelings and let them pull you into your dog and guide you towards the partnership that you long for. The majority of teams do not need some kind of training overhaul – they need some finesse and understanding. Susan quotes Dr. Steven Hayes, “In your pain you find your values, and in your values, you find your pain.”
I’ll pair the Hayes quote with one of Susan’s own quotes, “The place you suffer is the place you care. You hurt because you care. Therefore, the best response to pain is to dive deeper into your caring. Which is exactly the opposite of what most of us want to do. We want to avoid pain: to ward off the bitter by not caring quite so much about the sweet. But, “to open your heart to pain is to open your heart to joy,” as the University of Nevada clinical psychologist Dr. Steven Hayes put it…”
From my perspective as a judge I know people have come to the trial because they care about their dogs. I know it. Yet, I see people hurting in some of these searches, and I see them do the opposite of what I know their caring self wants to do.
The hot weather at these trial days brought challenges that were painful for some humans. The next trial may bring different yet equally painful challenges.
Consider diving deeper into your caring the next time you think your dog isn’t searching, the next time you wish your dog would put his nose on all of the containers, the next time you don’t want to call it because you can’t see the judge, the next time you feel the need to say find it find it find it. You may not relieve your suffering this way, but you’ll leave the search having moved towards the dog you care for, and feeling him move towards you.
Consider supporting the blog by picking up one or both of Susan Cain’s books, Bittersweet, and Quiet.
Happy Sniffing!
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I’m stuck on the part about Tony Robbins selling CDs!! I recognize that person!🤣 (Stash does too)
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