What it looks like on my couch in the hours after Dirt Nite.

1-Ruby, 2-Otterpop, 3-Gustavo

After Dirt Nite, the dogs go home and there is about 20 minutes of running and running and running through the house. Not by me. I've had enough of that running crap and am foraging for food. Not by Ruby, she's foraging, too. Not by Otterpop, she's collecting toys and making weird sounds and just taking care of business.

Gustavo though, gets, shall we say, somewhat wired? Dirt Nite, with the close proximity of border collies and running so fast over his little courses, over and over til I get them right, makes him crazy. As soon as he's back in the door at home, his dirty feet go 100mph through the house, running around with his little plastic bone. Back and forth, bedroom to living room, bedroom to living room, banking off the couch, just running in his own little world. The other dogs barely notice this anymore. Sometimes they might join in, but if they're busy with more important projects, it's just him running to the beat of whatever drummer it is that he's listening to.


When the running is over though, and as soon as I hit the couch, he's right there. The other dogs grab a spot on the couch. Ruby and Otterpop have to be touching. Otterpop brings some already shredded toy up to shred some more, and Gustavo finds the spot on my lap and crashes. Out like a light. The barking and screaming, a distant memory, unless that's what he dreams about, motionless, until 5:30am when the running starts again.