One Dog Away From Greatness

On "luck", excuses and the myths we tell ourselves that hold us back

"I am a great believer in luck. The harder I work, the more of it I seem to have."

~Coleman Cox

Since I first got into training, handling and competing with stock dogs there's one phrase I've heard more times than I can count that always jumps out to me: "You're lucky that ______".

What fits in that blank can run the gamut. But over the years it's included:

"You're lucky you got a great dog for your first."

"You're lucky training that way didn't ruin your dog"

"You're lucky you qualified for that final"

"You're lucky you got a good set of sheep/cattle etc."

"You're lucky your dog didn't get hurt."

"You're lucky your stock broke that way at that obstacle"

I've heard some of these at trials. I've seen others on social media. I've heard some said at clinics, during training sessions and of course under the dreaded handlers tent. Often directed at other people, but sometimes my way as well.

But of all the different times in my herding career that I've ever someone start a sentence with "You're lucky...", I've noticed one thing ALWAYS seems to remain consistent...I never seem to hear it said by a top trainer. Someone who not only seems to often come to town with the best dogs, but also consistently wins big when it matters most. Surprisingly, the folks who seem to continuously train up phenomenal dogs year after year, do the most impressive work with those dogs, and/or compete at the highest level from trial to trial... seem to rarely if ever chalk up someone else's positive results to "luck".

Coincidence? I sure doubt it. Instead, I think it's more likely that the trainers and handlers at the top know that it's work, technique and process that delivers the best dogs and the consistently high trial scores. Not luck.

But why then does calling success "luck" seem so appealing to some? And why, so often, to those who almost never seem to show up with the best dogs and the most competitive scores?

I think because sometimes explaining away the results of hard work as "luck" can feel better than facing reality. It's an easy out to let some mystical outside force rob the one who succeeds of credit for their hard work, and grant the one who doesn't with immunity from asking themselves some tough questions. Especially when the person who succeeded that draws the comparison maybe started around the same time as they did, or (even worse)... afterward. After all, if it was just random chance that put that great pup in the hands of someone else, or which netted them that "easier" set of sheep at the trial leading to the good score... that sure is a much easier pill to swallow then "I simply didn't work hard enough" or "I need to figure out what x/y/z person is doing to up my training/handling so I can get closer to their level."

No, for some it definitely seems easier to just attribute to random fortune what in reality was, almost certainly, the result of someone just outworking them.

And so I call these folks the "One Dog Away From Greatness" people.

They're those who have convinced themselves that they're just one great dog away from being where their "competition" is. They might have multiple dogs already, maybe even achieved the odd success here or there with one (on or off the trial field)... but are just waiting for that one super genius to arrive that will take them to herding valhalla to sit among the greats for at least its lifespan. So they'll keep buying more dogs, adopting more pups and scouring auctions for their next ticket to the champions circle convinced that it's their tools, not their process or grit, that are lacking.

When, in reality, it's not the dog the universe hasn't yet dropped in their lap that's holding them back but rather the myth of "luck" they've sold themselves on that's wrapped around their legs like a boat anchor.

Me? I say "burn the boats" altogether.

Because, odds are, the dogs that are good enough to take us where we want to go (if only we were willing to look inward at ourselves verus grasping for scapegoats)... are probably already on our property.