
Training with Coach Elizabeth
A few thoughts on learning...
As an agility instructor for 20+ years, it’s important for me to remember what it feels like to be totally new at something. So every few years, I pick a new skill to learn from the ground up. It helps me to think like a beginner and experience those insecurities of not completely “getting” it, feeling foolish and uncoordinated. And to work through until things start to make sense and I gain confidence. It allows me to empathize with my beginner agility students who are being brave and stepping out of their comfort zone to try something new.
This feeling of not being good enough happened as I created my first wood routed signs. I watched YouTube videos and actually read the paper instructions that came with the lettering template.

The artwork for Best Friends Fun Farm (a dog agility school I owned in Texas) was one of the first signs that I made. It is far from perfect. I hadn’t tightened down the template rails well enough so the letter “S” popped out of the guides as I pressed down and my router messed it up. I was disappointed after doing all of those other letters and contemplated trashing the whole thing and starting over with a fresh piece of wood.
But, then I thought about it. Mistakes are nothing to be ashamed of. They mean that you tried, you didn’t just sit home and do nothing. You learned something new, made mistakes, improved because of the mistakes and got better. And kept on trying.
So, I am embracing this imperfect sign and hung it up at the entrance to the dog school, messed up "S" and all. I hope when folks drive by, they’ll remember to be proud of themselves that they are making the effort. Doing *something*, even with mistakes, is better than doing nothing at all.
A few months later, I took my new camera out to the training field and photographed some agility students. As I reviewed the images, I was moved by the emotional celebration between a novice dog and handler as they had just completed the weaves, one of the hardest obstacles to master in agility.

But then I noticed that the dog must’ve skipped a weave pole because she is exiting incorrectly. I fretted about how I could use Photoshop to fix their mistake, to somehow digitally scoot the dog over to make it “right”.
In reflecting, I realized that this moment is honest and shows their incredible connection. You can see how proud the handler is, and how joyful they both feel about trying this new thing together. It’s that time spent together in the journey of learning that matters. Not whether or not they had perfect weaves.
Imperfect people (and dogs!) are welcome here. We'll make sure you feel right at home. - Elizabeth