The road to Crufts

On Saturday the 7th of March 2026, the day had finally come! San and I got to compete in the Agility International Invitation at the legendary Crufts in England!

It’s taken me a while to write this recap. An obvious reason would be that Areté Agility has really snowballed in the best possible way, keeping me very busy. Even so, running at Crufts was such a unique experience that it really took a while for me to digest it all. At the time, I was so focused on the game, doing my job as an agility handler. It was only in the days, weeks, even months after, that I’ve started to realise just how proud I am of what we’ve achieved.

Not just on that Saturday in Birmingham. No, more importantly, what San and I have achieved together in the past 7 years. Which ultimately led to that amazing final round on that magical green carpet.

A few years ago, when San was still young and starting to show some promising potential, I used to joke “I’ll fake it until I make it”. San was my first fast dog and we still had so much to learn. But I, being the hopeless maverick that I am, figured I’d simply act as if I knew exactly what I was doing, and we’d just see where the chips would fall.

Of course, as these stories go, it wasn’t just a smooth ride. We’ve worked through our own particular struggles and challenges, like growing San’s confidence and dealing with injuries. And probably the toughest one: lifting my own mental game to a level where it was going to help me, rather than limit and hinder me.

I do firmly believe that obstacles make us stronger. We find ourselves faced with a challenge, and we’re given two options: turn around or work through it. The latter is rarely fun, but the experience usually shapes us in such a way that we gain something from it, even if it may not feel that way in the moment.

In my case, I’ve worked through a ton of frustration as my hip pain prevented me from running and handling the way I wanted to. Rather than giving in, or giving up, I focused on strengthening San’s understanding of his verbal cues. If I couldn’t run, perhaps I could find a way to still do agility through distance handling.

Fortunately for me, I was on this journey with the best dog I could have hoped for. San always has, and still continues to, give me his all. He loves the game and he loves working with me, whether I run with him or not. He’s been a brilliant student, eager to follow my directions at whatever distance I was away. I was lucky to have him as my partner during these challenging times.

It took a while, but eventually we figured out a way to handle even the trickiest of sequences. And about a year ago, I was able to start running again. (The pain is not completely gone, but that’s a different story.) This created a new dynamic between me and San, one we had to adjust to a little, but that was to be expected.

After a few months, we started to run more and more consistently, and also faster. As an Australian Shepherd, it’s obvious San’s at a physical disadvantage compared to the lightning-fast, athletically built Border Collies and Kelpies in his class. We’ve worked hard on getting the absolute best out of him though, and being able to run along with him has definitely improved his speed.

Still, we’d often end up missing the podium by just a bit, or having just a bit too much misfortune during important runs. It took a while, but I’ve learnt to deal with such disappointments. We were at the point where we were just enjoying the ride and not focusing too much on the end result. Placements are determined by how others perform and I have no control over that. It’s a very stoic approach, but it helps me to not be upset about things I can’t influence.

I wasn’t really expecting much when we drove up to Leeuwarden for the Crufts Qualifier at the Dutch Winner Show last November, but we were consistent, we were fast and with that, we ended up winning the one Crufts ticket.

And then, just like that, you’re suddenly representing the Netherlands with your Aussie at the biggest dog show in the world. Well shit! I’d secretly wished to experience an international tournament or two with San, but even in my boldest dreams I’d never considered we might set foot on that magical green carpet.

I know it sounds cliché, but it really was a truly special experience. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that comes even close to participating at Crufts. Just the sheer size of it all. Even parking your car feels more like you’re at a big airport.

We’d travelled to England a few days early by ferry, to allow for some social visits and relaxing. Friday was all about logistics and nerves setting in, including nightmares about oversleeping — first dog on the line at 8:15 was cutting it close for someone who needs plenty of prep time! Unfortunately for my husband Jamie, who loves a good lie-in, the alarm went off on Saturday at 5:00 AM.

D-Day!

By 6:45 we were settled in behind the main arena, in a sectioned-off area just for competitors. I’d found a spot to set up San’s crate, tucked away at the back, away from the entrance… nice and quiet, I thought. When checking in, I was asked whether I wouldn’t prefer a spot near the entrance, otherwise I might miss the announcements. No no, I’d keep an eye on it, it’ll be fine… or so I thought.

I had about an hour until the handler briefing. The course maps had already been released, so I was able to study them over a coffee (or two). They were fair courses with a few traps, but nothing we couldn’t handle.

From that point on, I was able to relax again. The nerves weren’t gone, but they were on a par with important trials like a Dutch Championship or qualifier. The fact that the whole world was watching was something I was able to switch off in my head. There was a healthy dose of tension: enough to stay sharp and focused, but not so much that I’d risk choking.

Of course, the whole thing would stand or fall with San’s state of mind. At normal competitions he listens beautifully and handles distance work well. But this was no ordinary competition. The lights, the noise of the commentary and literally thousands of spectators. And we were running on astroturf. San had long struggled to perform well on astroturf. As a heavier dog, it messes with his grip, and the acoustics of an indoor venue used to hit him extra hard. He would shoot up in excitement and become unreachable. As a young dog, PA systems made him nervous too — music was already worrying, but people talking over the speakers used to scare him.

We’ve worked hard on this over the years, and commentary through speakers has long since been no more than background noise. On astroturf, I now have the San I know. But what would this extreme environment do to him? I didn’t know. What I did know, is that I run best when I fully trust him. The moment I don’t — when I start helping him too much, by overhandling — that’s when things go wrong. He’s not used to it, and every time I do it because I don’t trust his skills, he rightfully shows me that it’s a mistake not to trust him!

San was by now an extremely reliable, highly experienced 6-year-old agility dog, who knew the game and was not easily fazed by things. So I decided to assume the best, trust my dog, and if he behaved differently than usual, well… that would be something outside of my control, so we’d cross that bridge if and when we came to it.

At 7:45 we were briefed on how things work at Crufts. It runs quite differently from a regular competition. For example, we were asked not to throw our dog’s lead on the ground — it doesn’t look great on live TV! We also had to bear in mind that in the afternoon we might only have 3-4 minutes to walk the course, as they operate on a tight schedule. And a nice bonus: this year we were allowed to wear our national team shirts, instead of the (hideous…) bright red shirt of their main sponsor.

The Jumping: Bright-eyed and Bushy-Tailed

After the briefing, I went to warm up myself and San, until we were called to walk the first course. The third obstacle was the wall jump. San had run past the wall jump a few times in recent competitions, so I knew I couldn’t take it for granted and had to indicate it clearly to him. At a few points there was the option to layer obstacles, though if you could run with your dog, it wasn’t really necessary. One of those points was right after the wall jump. San, of course, is used to working away from me. It’s not that I couldn’t run, but as I wasn’t sure how San would respond to this setting, I decided to stick to what we’re used to. If he were affected by the environment, he’d likely stress upwards, making his “bubble” bigger — and with it the chance that handling him close would push him towards the wrong obstacle. Especially in the second half of the course, there were a few situations where not layering actually increased the risk of an off-course obstacle.

I made my handling decisions, collected San after the course walk, and then it was just a matter of waiting. In the queue, I visualised the course a few more times with my chosen handling, memorising all those silly verbal cues that San understands so well.

I was called as the next to go and took my place at the start gate. From that moment, you’re visible to the audience and the livestream.

As we walked to the start line, I could feel that San was thinking exactly the same thing: yes, we’re going to do agility! He looked bright and eager as I set him up at the start, and that meant the world to me in that moment. How was it possible that this once so soft, sensitive little boy was now sitting at the start line at Crufts, quite literally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? I was already proud, and we hadn’t even taken the first hurdle yet!

We set off and ultimately got through that first course really well. San unfortunately knocked the pole of the double jump, which was set on a bit of a curve and genuinely a technically tricky jump for the dogs. We finished with one fault and a good time — no elimination, solid handling from me, and above all: a fantastic San who ran no differently than usual.

Since I had one fault, I wasn’t really thinking about our placing anymore. There are always dogs who go clear and usually there are only 1 to 3 prizes. So I happily took San for a cool-down walk and headed back to his crate, tucked away so nicely in that quiet corner (remember?). Which meant I completely missed that there was a prize ceremony for the top 8 — and we had finished 7th. It wouldn’t be Evelien if she didn’t manage to forget to collect her prize at her very first Crufts appearance! Sigh.

After that, there was a long wait before our second run, so I went up to the stands to find some of my Areté Agility students who had been incredibly sweet — flying to Birmingham so they could cheer me on in person! They’d even brought a Dutch flag! It kept appearing over the edge of the stands, until the Crufts staff came to complain that the sponsor’s name couldn’t be covered up. So away it went… briefly. That re-appearing flag was such a laugh!

I’d also made the conscious decision not to go shopping in between. For one, I’m not really a shopper… and secondly, I’m a bit like an Aussie myself: I get overstimulated easily! With hours between runs, it was important for me to keep my energy levels up. When I’m tired, I lose focus and get sloppy with my handling. A little boring perhaps, but I think it was ultimately the right call.

The Agility: Improvising on Instinct

At 1:40 PM it was time for the agility course. Just as the briefing had suggested it might, we had very little time to walk this one. As it happened, I’d recently been practising short course walks in training, preparing to perform under time pressure. Piece of cake! I made my handling choices and decided to stay to the right of the dog walk, which would keep me calm and allow me to send San to the jump after the dog walk on verbal cue. In hindsight, I still think the plan itself was sound. The execution, however…

I took San to the start line again. There had been only a handful of spectators during our first run at 8:15 in the morning. That was very different now — the arena was packed! That crowd… wow.

A good story always has a moment of adversity — and how you rise from it is what defines you. For me, the second round captured that perfectly, starting at the very beginning of that run.

I put San in position and started leading out. Looking over my shoulder, I couldn’t actually see San through the enormous solid wings of the start jump. I’d never experienced this before, as the FCI jumps we see here at competitions are smaller and easy to look over. The sponsored jumps at Crufts had large, solid wings. I had to lean forward just to see him — was he still there? Ok, let’s go!

It’s these silly little things that catch you off-guard and mess with your focus. With that weird start, I drifted a little too far towards obstacle 4, the tunnel, which meant I then had to run wide along the dog walk. San, who normally exits tunnels so reliably straight, curved towards me and ran past the dog walk he was supposed to take. This was entirely my fault and the one I’m still most annoyed about — the refusal we received was absolutely correct, and wholly unnecessary. I sent San back onto the dog walk, expecting him to miss the contact too, as he had no momentum. But San being San, he managed to hit his contact anyway. Golden boy!

Having had to correct San at the entry of the dog walk, I was now so far behind that I was already expecting an elimination at the jump after it — but again he saved me, showing he truly understands my verbal cues, taking the right jump from the back side. He turned the wrong way after that, so I had to pull him to the inside of the next jump and then we could finally continue our run as I’d intended. The rest of the course we ran clean and according to plan.

Not the run I’d hoped for, but with ultimately just the one refusal I was very pleased with how I managed to recover. I only heard afterwards that this was actually commented on during the livestream — how difficult it is to keep a cool head when things go wrong, and how remarkable it was that we managed to do just that at such a challenging venue. As much as we want every run to be clear and flawless, this is real agility: where improvisation becomes instinct, and instinct becomes almost a reflex.

With two runs of one fault each we sat 6th overall and made it through to the final. How amazing was that? Beforehand I hadn’t dared hope we’d get that far. Going clear would have been lovely, but with a fast dog like San a wrong obstacle is easily taken and an elimination can happen in a heartbeat. I’d mainly hoped not to make a complete fool of myself and to show a little of what we can do, regardless of the result. The fact that we’d completed both runs and qualified for the final already exceeded my wildest dreams.

The Final: A San run

When I saw the final course, my heart lit up. Sometimes you see a course and you just think: this is it. We can do this. This is a San run. And we’ve shone in finals before. Okay, this time the whole world is watching — but still! This is it!

As I set San up at the start line for the third time that day, it felt like an inner voice guided me through that run.

Re-connect with him after the first jump, ensuring he commits to the backside of jump two. Maintain connection at the first tunnel, a quick check to make sure he doesn’t fly into the second tunnel behind it. Call him immediately after, cuing him to turn towards me slightly out of the tunnel so he will come in on the right side of the jump. A gentle curve towards the weave poles. Trust him to find and complete them on his own, so I can already move out and get to the end of the dog walk. Calmly but firmly ask him to backside wrap the jump after the dog walk and send him to the tunnel while I make a beeline for the wall jump, past the long jump so that it is no longer an option for him. Get him lined up well for the jump before the spread — not too tight, not too wide — and move away in time to switch sides and pick him up after the long jump. At this point he’s overtaking me, as expected; perfect. Trust his send-and-go to the backside wrap on the next jump. Towards the A-frame and over the final jump.

And so we ran clear in the final at Crufts. The first to go clear. The roar of a packed stadium carrying you over the A-frame and that last jump.

I’m usually quite reserved at the finish line, even when I’m happy and satisfied — but this time my hands went straight up in the air.

We’d made it.

We ended up ranking 4th in the final. Me and San. At our Crufts debut. Evelien Tewes with her Australian Shepherd. With True to the Bone Bold and Brave.

I always joked that his registered name didn’t suit him at all. As a young dog he was anything but bold and brave. San is sensitive, cautious and gentle by nature. Always was, always will be. But I can only say that on this world stage, San proved himself to be the boldest and bravest of them all.

People mentioned afterwards it was such a shame we’d just missed the podium by placing fourth. I genuinely don’t feel that way at all. I gave it my all, and so did San. We did the absolute best we could on that round. Why on earth would I be disappointed with this end result? As I already mentioned before, I have no control over what the others do. We fought and we ran clear and that is worthy of celebration, regardless of the end result.

Looking back at how we started, what we’ve worked through, and how we’ve grown, I’d be doing us a disservice feeling anything less than pure, unadulterated pride.

So I’ll say it again: I am so incredibly proud of San! He has exceeded every expectation I ever had. And not just mine, but those of everyone in the Netherlands, I think — my phone exploded with messages afterwards. It was so special; the support from friends, acquaintances, and even people I’ve never met was overwhelming.

From the Australian Shepherd Club Netherlands I received a beautiful keepsake: a plaque engraved with an image of me and San.

I feel so grateful. For this once-in-a-lifetime experience with this once-in-a-lifetime dog. So many firsts with him! In 2024 we got to run the World Agility Open together, and this year we added an incredible Crufts appearance to that.

And that’s not all. In July, we’re going to our first European Open together in France! 🇫🇷 I can’t wait for another unforgettable experience with my favourite Aussie boy, the one-and-only San 🤎