Guess what, it's not very easy to put sheep into a small pen in the middle of a field. I imagine that's the reason it's a common test at stockdog trials. It is also a reason some people call it a "trick obstacle", meaning it is just meant to show off a dog's training and handler's ability to elicit that training, in the service of a job that one would rarely encounter in the real world of livestock management.

In the real world, it is so difficult to ease suspicious sheep or cattle into anything that looks like a trap — such as a small pen with no exit — that people tend to go to some lengths to avoid it, such as using a fenceline, or building a funneling device out of panels. But even in the real world one may at some time have to, for example, load a flock of sheep into a stock trailer in the middle of open range land, and then all those hours you spent flailing at trying to figure out just where to stand and just when to flank your dog will pay off for you. Supposedly.

My first Novice Sheep class will be this coming Saturday. Just as I floss most religiously when I know my dental hygienist will be looking into my mouth the following week, I have been practicing my center penning with a fervour only the prospect of imminent public embarrassment can call up. Poor Bonnie has endured a lot of yelling recently. I always promise myself I am not going to raise my voice this time, but when that damn red ewe makes a dash for it just when all the others had decided to mosey in, and draws them all with her — for the third time in a row — unladylike remarks are passed.

Conversely, it is so very satisfying to get them in, that as soon as I've succeeded I want to do it all over again.

I am at about the same stage in center-penning skill as I was in Started class when I sometimes was be able to see the sheep and the dog and the panels at the same time. I definitely don't have the hang yet, but I can see that if I keep doing it, I will get the hang. That's more than I could say last week, when I ran the sheep around without success so long that I suddenly just screamed in frustration a la Rumplestiltskin, causing my dog to quit work to run over and jump on me, thinking I needed canine first-aid.

Penning is all about finesse, patience, and strategy. All of which I long for, but they don't come by wishing. Still, I have advanced to the point that I usually can get the sheep to settle in the mouth of the gate first time around. That's when I can't figure out what to do next. I wonder if Bonnie and I will figure that part out in the next three days. Probably not, is my guess. Doggy sheep that stick to your leg like glue I find rather hard to pen, since they have to make the decision to leave me if they're to go in. They don't like making that decision, and often when they are forced to, they panic, since you are their safety zone. Panicky sheep are always difficult sheep, unless they're impossible.

The ASCA Novice class is for people who have never yet acquired an Open title. It is meant to be a stepping stone class to the Open level, in which your dog doesn't need to have a drive yet, and you are judged on your handling and stockmanship, as opposed to your dog being judged on its control of the stock. It is rarely entered, even by those for whom, based on their performance in Open, it was designed. That's no doubt because it doesn't lead to a title, and titles, sad to say, have come to be all-important in ASCA. It's clearly seen to be better to spend your money on the Open class and have a chance at a leg. I know I feel that pull myself.

If Novice class didn't exist, though, I wouldn't have entered an ASCA trial at all. Bonnie has her Started duck and sheep titles already, and Open is the next titling step. But I don't believe in lucky chances. I am that ideal Novice class entrant who is not yet capable of Open work. So even if I am the only entrant, which wouldn't surprise me, I still am in the correct class for me, if not for Bonnie.

I'm trying to avoid thinking about the Ranch class I also entered. What was in my mind when I filled out the entry form? That's always the question. I console myself with the motto of Little Hats, the website for novice Border Collie trialers: "When Ordinary Humiliation Just Isn't Enough." I guess that must be mine too.