Dogs On The Run To Represent U.S.

The world-class athletes in Barb Davis’ Newman Lake house bark at strangers, chase their tails and perform for treats.

They also whip over walls, burrow through tunnels and tear across narrow bridges so swiftly that they’ll represent the United States at the Dog Agility World Championships in Helsinki, Finland, next month.

“It’s like the Olympics for dogs,” Barb says as her four furry shelties dance at her feet. “Thirty countries compete. People bring airhorns and cowbells. We bought hats and pins to trade.”

Two of Barb’s shelties, Shimmer and Aspen, earned slots on the national small-dog team. Small dogs jump 16 inches high. There are four and an alternate on the team. Shelties - Shetland sheepdogs - are the most common competitors.

The United States also fields a large-dog team. Big dogs jump 26 inches high and are most often border collies.

Barb is a math instructor at North Idaho College and the first American to send two dogs to the world championships in the same year.

“I hope to make it onto the (awards) podium,” she says. “But if we blow it, we blow it.”

Agility competitions began in England 20 years ago. Dogs leap through tire swings and over hurdles, weave through a series of poles, climb bridges and crawl through tunnels of collapsed fabric. They win points for speed and style.

Trainers clap, yell and even run with their dogs. But they can’t touch them.

Barb began training wire fox terriers at 15. By 21, she’d switched to shelties.

“Shelties are such a responsive breed,” she says.

She bred dogs for a short time, but training pleased her more.

“Training builds relationships with the dogs,” she says. “We reach higher communication skills.”

Agility caught her eye because dogs enjoy it so much. Four years ago, Barb decided to give it a try.

“Dogs really do think it’s cool,” she says. “You get a fast dog, it’s a mental game. You only have a moment to tell the dog what to do.”

The strategy game fit Barb’s mathematical mind. She studied how her shelties learned and taught them names for each obstacle - tunnel, bridge, A-frame. Then she taught them to understand her body language.

“Dogs pick up on the body motions innately,” she says. “If you’ve ever watched wolves hunt, they know when their prey is going to turn.”

She raised Shimmer, 5, and Aspen, 3, from pups. They’re about 20 pounds each with pointed ears and eager eyes. Their coats and tails are soft and bushy.

Shimmer’s shoulders and chest are white and his back is a silvery mix of grays and black. Aspen is a rich blend of deep brown and black.

Barb’s husband, Jeff, built an agility practice course on their woodsy property. He began building training equipment to sell after Kaiser Aluminum locked him out along with other Steelworkers nearly two years ago. He drove an overhead crane for Kaiser.

“I tried training, but I got lost on the course,” he says, chuckling. “I thought I could do more supporting them on this end.”

Barb’s conditioning is as important as the dogs’ to good racing. She runs along with Shimmer and Aspen, yelling commands and directing them with her body. She works out with her shelties for about an hour every day to prepare for competitions.

The equipment stays the same from race to race, but judges change the order in which dogs tackle each piece. Trainers learn the order 10 minutes before the race, which is why they need good communication with their dogs.

Barb’s relationship with Shimmer and Aspen impressed judges at the first regional races she entered. They encouraged her to try national competitions.

In 1998, she raced Shimmer at national championships in Atlanta, Ga.

“We bombed,” she says. “He ran off-course in the third round.”

But Barb saw that her dog’s race times were competitive at that level. A clean race would have won them medals.

Last year on the Davises’ anniversary, Barb raced Shimmer at the U.S. Dog Agility Championships in Cleveland, Ohio. He won. She was ecstatic.

“I said, `There’s your anniversary present because I can’t beat that,”’ Jeff says.

True to her analytic nature, Barb is rational about her victory.

“Luck happens,” she says. “It’s a blink-of-the-eye sport. But it was the summer of a lifetime for me.”

Animal Planet broadcast the race and won Barb attention and invitations from all over the nation.

The American Kennel Club invited her to its competition in St. Paul, Minn., last June. Shimmer won and secured his spot on the national team. The team offered Aspen a spot two weeks later.

Last week, Barb and her shelties flew to New York for ESPN’s Great Outdoor Games. Shimmer and Aspen joined 11 other small dogs. It cost Barb $1,000 to participate.

Cameras threw a new element into the race.

“I’m trying to lead Shimmer and there’s a cameraman right behind him,” Barb says. “But I don’t think it really affected the dogs.”

Shimmer streaked through the course in a silver blur with Barb at his side yelling, “Go, go, go,” and dipping her shoulders toward the next piece of equipment. They took second, good for $2,500. That money will enable Jeff to join Barb and the shelties in Finland next month.

Barb is off to San Jose, Calif., with Shimmer and Aspen this month to train with Nancy Gyes, an expert in the agility field.

Her return to teaching later this month will cut into training time, but she’s not fretting. Two years ago, the American small-dog team won gold at Worlds.

“I know the gal who got fourth last year,” Barb says. “We’ve beaten her before.”