When our current vocabulary doesn’t
quite cut it...
 Sally
Jones wrote this article in the halcyon days of 2003 when a handler who could
work their dog equally well on their right as well as their left was seen as an
over-achiever and, quite frankly, a show-off. A life-long agility enthusiast,
she used to write under the pseudonym 'Perennial Starter' for Agility Eye
magazine where her irreverent take on our beloved sport was a reality check to
many. She attracted an international following of like-minded daft sods and had
the pleasure of travelling to South Africa to meet with Sally Adam - the first
person to achieve the Agility Champion status with her dog in that country - and
her friend Susan Smith who owned Dobermans famed for what they could find to
roll in. Enjoy.
Agility
is now a worldwide phenomenon and although it may vary in flavour from country
to country, there is no doubt that the agility experience is universal. This was
brought home to me during the recent visit of my South African friends after the
World Champs. It was irrelevant that we live in different hemispheres, once we
got onto agility as a topic, we might as well have belonged to the same club.
Dogs are dogs, humans are humans, and competition brings out the best and worst
in both the world over.
Something
that we both agree on is that the language of agility is very much in its
infancy and there are many common objects or experiences for which no word or
phrase yet exist. We are both fans of the Douglas Adams' book, The
Meaning of Liff in which he lists hundreds of these objects and experiences
and gives them a name. Unashamedly stealing Adams' idea of using British place
names as the words or phrases, Sally Adam spent most of the long flight back to
Cape Town coming up with the lion's share of what follows.
Wigginton
The awkward, hopping
dance performed by a handler in the superstitious belief that it actually
assists their dog through the weave poles.
Grinlow
The silent whoop of delight you make when the only dog who could
still beat you takes down the first pole.
Sutton Coldfield
The glare you receive from the competitor lying in 1st place when
they realise that you have yet to run.
Chirk
The least popular person at an agility show, whom no-one ever
applauds.
Grimsby
An indoor show held in unconscionably cramped conditions.
Clutton
A handler who enters with the sole purpose of winning prizes.
Ousden
The signal a judge makes when eliminating a dog.
Burton
Agnes
The
sinking feeling a judge gets when they realise that they are not going to make
it to the end of the dog walk in time.
Cuddington
A handler who kisses their dog before starting a round.
Worksop
The sort of person who, without fail, will always manage to avoid
doing any sort of work at a show, but will always be the person most likely to
complain about anything.
Enniscaven
The sort
of rickety equipment that gives a distinct home-ground advantage to the host
club's dogs.
Polgooth
The sort of competitor who annoys everyone by messing around on
the start line with an elaborate and time-consuming set-up routine.
Talskiddy
The course a judge sets up when they want to go home early.
Suckley
Green
The
feeling of panic you experience at a 12-ring show as you walk the fourth course
of the morning and realise you have completely forgotten the first one.
Chipping Norton
The irritation felt by the scorer when competitors continuously
hang over their shoulder trying to see their results.
Lostwithiel
A handler who is perpetually disoriented on a course.
Stour
The type
of judge who loves eliminating dogs.
Sible
Hedingham
The lady in charge of judges' lunches.
Watford Gap
The often infinitesimal difference between a clear round and
disaster.
Summerfield
An outdoor
show held in unseasonably fine weather.
Foulsham
An outdoor
show held in unseasonably horrid weather.
Lossiemouth
The
tendency of certain competitors to wildly praise a dog which has clearly missed
the contact, in a vain attempt to influence the judge into thinking that the dog
did not, in fact, fault the obstacle.
Chatteris
The drivel that some handlers use to drag their dogs around the course by the
sheer force of their own personalities.
Falmouth
An
expletive audible to both judge and crowd.
Cockermouth
That
person at ringside who knows exactly what everyone should have done... and not
done.
Crawley
The slow
creep down the contact of a Border Collie trying to work out exactly where the
handler wants him.
Kilwinning
Knocking
down the last pole on an otherwise perfect round.
Ambleside
A slow
handler accompanied by a Velcro dog.
Sowerby
The handler who comes off the course making a face, while his dog hops around
him waiting for a word... and waiting... and waiting.
Bootle
The reward
for a dog who has tried to nip his handler in the ring.
Skipsea
The little
dance done after a perfect round.
Meysey
Hampton
The type of man who competes with a Bichon Frise.
Stragglethorpe
The small crowd of handlers who wait for five hours after their
run to pick up a clear round rosette.
With
thanks to both Sally Adam and Susan Smith
© Copyright Sally Jones
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