Extract from the diary of an agility dog
Ever wonder what agility looks like from the dog’s perspective? Handlers do their best, but let’s be honest—sometimes their flailing arms and last-minute decisions make our jobs a lot harder than they need to be.
As an elite agility athlete (yes, that’s me), I’ve decided it’s time to share the real story—the one handlers won’t admit. So, welcome to my Diary of an Agility Dog, where I tell it like it is. Buckle up, because the truth isn’t always pretty.
📅 Day 1: The Pre-Run Pep Talk
Handler: “You got this, buddy! We’ve trained for this!”
Me: We? Oh, you mean how I practiced my timing while you spent half the session overthinking that front cross?
I love the enthusiasm, but let’s be real—I follow your cues. If I go off-course, that’s just me being an excellent teammate—because I believed you.
You handle, I run. That’s the deal. Just try not to hesitate, flail, or yell my name mid-run like I’m lost in the supermarket, and we’ll be fine. Probably.
📅 Day 2: When the Course Walk is Useless
Ah yes, the majestic handler course walk. A sacred ritual where humans shuffle around, doing their best interpretive dance routine while staring at the ground like it’s revealing agility secrets.
Me? I sit there, patiently waiting, because here’s the truth: I don’t read numbers. I don’t memorize obstacle order. I just follow whatever your wildly inconsistent body language tells me.
So when you start running, panic, and suddenly fling your arm in a totally new direction—guess what? I’m going there. That’s just good teamwork on my part.
Enjoy your course walk. But remember: I’m following you, not your whispered numbers. No pressure. 😉
📅 Day 3: The Weave Pole Conspiracy
Weave poles: the ultimate trust exercise. One day, I’m flying through them like a pro, and the next? I pretend I’ve never seen one before in my life.
Handler: “Why did you miss that entry?!”
Me: “Because your shoulder said ‘go left’ and your voice said ‘weaves’—and I trust your body more than your words”
Handler: “That’s ridiculous.”
Me: “So is dedicating your entire weekend to a sport where we both get judged on fractions of a second, but here we are.”
To be fair, weave poles are like dog Sudoku—everything has to line up perfectly, or it all falls apart. But just so we’re clear: I followed your cues. So if I went wide, missed my entry, or skipped a pole, maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t just me who messed up. 😏
📅 Day 4: The Border Collie Agenda
Every agility trial has the same lineup:
🐕 Border Collies: “This is my life’s purpose. I will execute perfectly or die trying.”
🐕 Golden Retrievers: “This is so fun! But what’s the point?”
🐕 Poodles: “I demand a better footing surface.”
🐕 Chihuahuas: “I have the spirit of a Malinois. Fear me.”
🐕 Labs: “I’m just here for the post-run snacks.”
And then there’s me. Just trying to read my handler’s late cues, compensate for their confusion, and do my job while looking amazing. It’s a lot, but someone’s gotta do it.
📅 Day 5: The Human Delusion in dog agility
Handler: “We just need to tighten our turns.”
Me: “We? Interesting choice of words.”
Like, sure, I’ll work on my turns—right after you stop looking like you’re battling invisible ninjas every time we run.
Maybe if you stopped waving your arms like you’re guiding an airplane, we wouldn’t have a problem. 🤷♂️ Just a thought.
I read everything you do. If you hesitate, I hesitate. If you flail, well… I might just take a tunnel for fun. Tighter turns start with clearer cues, my friend.
📅 Day 6: The Tunnel Scam
Me: OMG a tunnel!! I LOVE tunnels!!
Handler: “NO NOT THAT ONE!”
Me: Then why is it there? That’s on you, my friend.
You know I love tunnels. You know I will take a tunnel if it’s anywhere near me. If you put a tunnel entry on my line, I’m going for it, no regrets!
Maybe—just maybe—you should show me what line you actually want me to take before I commit. Or, hear me out… don’t put my favorite obstacle right in front of me and expect me to ignore it. Your call.
📅 Day 7: The Real Athlete
Handler after one run: gasping for air “I think I’m dying.”
Me after twelve runs, a warm-up session, and some celebratory zoomies: “So… when do we start?”
Agility humans are adorable. They run for 30 seconds, immediately need a water break, and then want to “talk about strategy” while I’m ready for another round.
Look, I get it. You’ve got two legs, I’ve got four. But maybe—just maybe—if you planned your handling better, you wouldn’t have to sprint like a lunatic to keep up.
I’m just saying, distance handling exists for a reason. Work smarter, not harder, buddy.
Final Thoughts from an Agility Dog
At the end of the day, I love this sport—even if my handler occasionally looks like they’re directing an invisible orchestra mid-run. But let’s be honest: I’m not the problem.
So, dear handlers, next time something goes wrong, ask yourself:
✔️ Was my cue clear?
✔️ Did I give information in time?
✔️ Was my handling consistent?
Because I will always trust you. Even if that means launching into an off-course tunnel for the thrill of it.
🔥 Stay tuned and check out OneMind Dogs socials for more #diaryofanagilitydog posts—because someone needs to tell the truth about this sport! 😆🐾
Seeing Agility Through Your Dog’s Eyes
The truth is, agility is much easier when you train from your dog’s perspective. Dogs aren’t memorizing numbers or planning handling strategies—they’re just reading your body language and doing their best to follow your cues. When you learn to communicate clearly and give timely, natural information, everything feels effortless—for both of you.
That’s exactly what we teach at OneMind Dogs—how to handle in a way that actually makes sense to your dog. Want to see the difference?
Start learning today at www.oneminddogs.com
