Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
16 November 2008
History, if you can call it that, just keeps repeating itself.
Off to Turlock. Cows and fog and that whole deal. You remember? You look back, this same time last year, you can click on those dates over on the side. Over there? You see? And it's the same old story. Dog agility just keeps recycling itself like socks going back through the dryer. Over and Over again. Turlock. November. Get up early and drive and drive and drive and try to get there earlier this time. Although I don't quite remember it being global warming Hot and in the 80's last November. A little creepy and fire weather and earthquake weather and if we were up in a plane over LA right now we'd see the bottom of the state all on fire, burning up under giant billowing blankets of smoke.
A year ago, Gustavo was a screaming puppy locked in a plastic crate at dog shows so as not to escape and to try and keep him quiet. Black Beauty lived in a dog pen with hot wire around the sides to keep the dogs in and quiet, up by the laborer's trailer. Otterpop lived a quiet, stress free life, guarding Timmy on slow, shuffling walks around the block. Ruby had just started her weird erratic trialing behavior. We had no roof.
This year, Gustavo competing in the USDAA and so far so good. Black Beauty goes everywhere with Team Small Dog and has her own tiny horse blanket to keep her warm and sleeps in a dog bed. Otterpop is working on regaining her quiet stress free life without her Timmy and trying to keep her cool. Ruby just enjoys chilling and practicing agility and running here and there at trials. Roof is done and painted and whole new house projects needing saws and guys in tool belts and timberlands and surfboards to start and maybe not finish.
Horses still get ridden. Lessons still get taught. Pens still scribble stuff down and lots of pictures get taken. There's a new washer dryer and I have to go to court in a couple days. Washer is a front loader and I try to get excited about this fancy thing that cost a lot of money and best I can do is a tight little fake smile, like Yay. Washer Dryer. A guy said I looked like I was 35, 36 and that's a compliment now, not an insult. And back in the car and back to Turlock.
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Gustavo already has a fan club. By that I mean that serious agility people actually come all the way over (psychological distance in this case) from the important Masters ring to cuddle him before his run and watch him run in the Starters ring. Eye witness reports verify that in Gamblers his running A-frame was amazing, the third time was the charm for the weave poles in Gamblers, and THE GAMBLE ITSELF WAS NOTHING SHORT OF FANTASTIC! In Jumpers he was so blazingly fast at the finish that Laura blinked her eye and though he missed a jump. We made her go check the score sheet. Q-mungous!
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