When Team Small Dog gets to go back to agility because succulent growing totally sucks.

Yesterday, Team Small Dog was going to switch from agility to succulent farming. My blog friends, always ready to accommodate, offer some nice succulent advice. Readers don't seem surprised or worried that they will have to start reading daily stories about cactus plants.

Uh, because you already knew that this was a Lame Idea? My black clouds didn't look DARK enough? You all like succulents THAT MUCH?

Totally over the succulents already. This happens every time I start landscaping something. Likely they'll be dead in their pots by June. I dunno. What was I thinking?

In the spirit of Train, Don't Complain, (aha-isn't using little sayings a weird sign of agility creepiness?) I went out to practice yesterday morning with a mission. Begin dog training boring blah blah blah here. You already guessed the blah blah blah. Because I used a little saying. Yep. Probably had on a fanny pack while I wrote it too. We are going to practice nothing but fun and fast starts that also have teeters in them, and by god, is it going to be fun. Actually, so fun that I think I threw my back out. And we all had a swell time and got tired and it was best agility day we've had in a while.

All we did was work on everyone's personal, preferred method of fun having, and a startline leadout of a couple jumps to the teeter. That was it. Since everyone got to have their own personal fun having thing be the entire focus of practice, you can imagine the mayhem that ensued. I like mayhem, I must confess.

Gustavo's involved his chicken, tied to his leash, and a lot of him hanging onto that teeter with banging and bouncing and flipping and flopping. And some ham. No ham flu here. The stuffed chicken tied to his leash thing is a new development, hoping to teach him to run to HIS leash and not SOMEONE ELSE'S leash after a run. Cookie stealer. A chicken on a leash. Sorry, my non agility friends. I'll say it again. Fanny pack. It's not that bad, but I do have a stuffed chicken on a leash.

Otterpop's idea of hellafun obviously involves the frisbee, but trying to make that the LAST fun and the first fun just playing with me and no toy and just fun fun startline with the frisbee at the end. My sore back and grass stained pants are proof of the Ottepop startline joy. You know how most people teach their dogs not to jump on them? Welcome to dog agility. I am teaching my dog to jump all over me and then chase me in order to jump all over me. It's a sick, twisted world here at dog agility.

Ruby got to chase the frisbee solo with no Otterpop to worry about and the secret Ruby weapon at the end of each startline sequence-the Chewy. She goes crazy for her chewy and tugs and growls and gets to be MEAN. Ruby's never mean, so that's her idea of fun. Pretend she's an Otterpop. And, guys. Her chewy is made of a bull penis. I have a whole bag of those. I am a vegetarian, yet I own a whole ziploc bag of bull penis.

So practice was just like this. Fun fun fun fun startline fun fun fun fun teeter fun fun fun fun fun. Everyone had to just have fun with me until the very end when the fun was causing me to walkrun like a hunchy little troll and then, and only then, did frisbee mayhem for everyone happen. This sounding fun to you? See above re. bull penis. I have a weird life now, is all I can say.

This is how the week is going to go. Every day, just about fun and startline leadouts with one piece of contact equipment each day and poles one day. Today is a-frame. Tomorow poles. Friday dogwalk. Our little experiment this week, and see what kind of difference it makes, or doesn't make, this coming weekend. Hell. If nothing else, we have a super fun week that beats watching cactus plants grow. And if we're lucky, I notice a difference Saturday. Not that years of ring weirdness should vanish in a week, but I just want a little sign here, dog. Just a sign. And maybe some more advil.