Gustavo, the saga continues.

Hmm...do you think a scrawny little street dog from Mexico with big ears and a long tail wants to do agility? I think we are going to find out soon because Gary took it upon himself to call up the Gustavo dog rescue lady, arrange an appointment to meet with him, and met with him and said he was just the friendliest and cutest little dog for a scrawny and tiny little dog he'd ever seen.

Of course it helped that the dog rescue lady lives up on land bordering Gray Whale Ranch, the most beautiful land in all the land and where we both want to live but will certainly not without a winning lottery ticket. A thing on which we have been spending way too money. Lottery tickets, not land. It is a plan not working for real estate buying at the moment.

So I just need to arrange a meeting to figure out if it is going to work and have my own home evaluated by the dog rescue lady on it's suitablity for Gustavo. Hopefully she isn't worried about the dog pen I mentioned at work for the dogs. At least they get to go to a ranch and hang out all day is how I think, even if it's from a pen. They do come out of the pen to lay in the sun, eat horse hooves, attack gophers, bark at Jacinto, and sit on people's laps on the deck.

Last night I quizzed a lady that has some teensy little dogs, hers are 8lbs, Gustavo weighs 10lbs. That is one half of Timmy and 2/3 of Otterpop or Ruby. That is little-purse dog size. Hers can still tip the teeter and go around, althought they are slow. That was Gary's only hesitation, that Gustavo might not be, um, intense enough (in real life, MEAN) to do agility. He is too cute and just more like playful than obsessed with attacking the ball or owning the frisbee or chasing things. Doesn't have that competitive edge. The things that make my dogs excell at agility are personality flaws in the real world. But it might be cool to have a nice little friendly dog and see what I can do to get him to go. A new challenge! How to turn a friendly dog mean!

When I mentioned this to my agility colleagues, they were aghast that I was considering another tiny dog. They all thought I was getting a big dog. The kelpie of my dreams. Which I will, but I can't see having a high drive, intense (perhaps, MEAN) big dog in my tiny house, living in a pen all day, with nowhere to practice at home. I can just imagine the problems of evil that come in via kelpie rescue. And potentially losing our beach and field in November. Actually, not potentially-we are losing it in November, but will be figuring out other illegal options such as getting up at 5am to walk the dogs and run them on the bach. I do want a big dog, I love running Hobbes. But it's going to have to hold on a little til one of those lottery tickets wins or I don't know what.

Also because when Gary came back from the dog rescue lady's, he decided for sure he has to stay on the Western Edge of Santa Cruz, where land is at a premium fit for only millionaires. It has been about exactly ONE YEAR since the horrible outbidding of the Perfect Ranch, up the hill from the university in the perfect spot with the perfect parcel and the perfect house. One year since we almost bought the most dream of dream house/ranch potential (ok, it was just 2 giant fields on less than 3 acres but still, it was going to be a ranch for real someday) and we're still stuck here. And Gary is pretty certain there are no dairy farms in Watsonville on his horizon. So I guess all I can do is keep filling the house with the tiny dogs!