05/07/2026
THIS!!!
Ok, keeping it real here folks: We need to normalize failure. I’m not talking about poor stockmanship. I’m talking about mistakes, failures, errors on your part or your dog’s.
An acquaintance, someone I see as accomplished but who I don’t know very well personally, said to me the other day: “I go to trials and if I don’t have a good run, people say to me, “Man, I thought you were better than that…. You’re slipping.” And it was crushing to this person and produced the kind of anxiety state that their competitors really wanted them in.
Failure is normal - for everybody, whether you’re at the top or whether you’re like me and just watch the people at the top a lot (trust me, it may not seem like it, but failure for them is normal - I see everything).
It shouldn’t cripple you or even embarrass you. It should motivate you. Most of those people at the top barely bat an eye after a failure - they’re onto the next thing and not worrying about what other people think. They have trials to win and good dogs to make.
Mistakes are normal.
The learning process (for both you and your dog) isn’t meant to be linear. It’s all over the place, a beautiful mess of big and little errors that get smoothed out over time. As long as the sheep are being treated well by you and your dog, you are on your way.
Somewhere along the way, due to social media, or maybe just because people talk, it’s become as if every trial you go to is a life or death situation for your dog’s reputation or your reputation as a “good” or “bad” handler. It used to be that people understood that dogs need miles. Miles means experience and experience means you’re going to do a lot of losing.
People say to me all the time: “I bet you’re sad you put so much time into (insert all the misbehaving inexperienced young dogs) now, aren’t you? Were you embarrassed by (insert “what the heck were you thinking” moment at trial XYZ)?”
Well, should it be embarrassing?
I’ll leave that up to you, because, honestly, I can’t be bothered with it. Luckily I don’t have anything I feel like I have to protect, and attempts at sabotage are comedic relief to me.
So let’s normalize a different way of thinking and give the dogs and their handlers some room to breath and do the same for ourselves.
One bad trial doesn’t make a bad handler or a bad dog.
Two bad trials don’t make a bad handler or bad dog.
So where’s the cut off?
There isn’t one: your enjoyment of the process is the cut off. If you’re not enjoying working (or trialing) that dog then, for me, that is the point where you may need to make a change.
Otherwise, carry on learning and being a better trainer and let the buggers ring their bells.
End of soapbox.