Just a plain, old, agility video.

Does this prove or teach or show you anything? Just that all my dogs are small. All of them feel like they run way faster than it looks like on video. I edited out the parts where I sweat and breathe heavy. And all of them have various degrees of success in bringing back the frisbee. You know where Ruby goes during the frisbee part? Far, far away from Otterpop, snarky little wootch. Gustavo? Never going to be a superstar of fetching. Also somehow didn't end up with any of the sequences where I brought out his red stuffed sausage animal. So too bad. Don't get to watch me and Gustavo do agility with a shredded up terry cloth sausage. Nothin' fancy here, nothin' dramatic, just a couple shorty sequences on a sunny day with the whole team. Stuff like this, pretty much how everyone learns everything.

Some poetry, inspired by true life, which makes you realize, Laura so not a poet.

German shepherd lady, near the sea.
Tiny lady, like a flea
German shepherd, great big teeth
Shows them to us, like we're to eat

Today she holds him, on her drive
Lunging at us, we're near his hive
Little lady, so very sweet
Doesn't get it, small dogs for eat

According to Mr. Shepherd
Good for desert, with Dr. Pepper
She's hanging on, for dear life
Walking there, like death by knife

Some fine day, if she ever lets go
End result of this, don't you know
German shepherd will be winner
My small dogs, tonight for dinner

----------------

Clueless man, on the beach
Giant akita, within reach
Of my small dogs, tiny and fast
Not really sure, how long they would last

If I didn't make like a quick run
Back up the stairs, no more fun
For the little dogs who are like, wow
How come we had to go just now?

Because akita man, kinda stoned
Clueless that akita wants the bones
Of little dogs, to chew then swallow
Would be no small dogs, left tomorow

----------------

Mean dog on a flexi leash
Trying to get down to the beach
Wants to eat an Otterpop
Oh my god, this has to stop

So I holler, My Dog's Not Friendly
Lady back atcha, My dog's name is Eddy!
Eddy loves all Your dogs
Yeah gonna smash em flat, like mummy frogs

Hey just shorten up your flexi cord
Please stupid lady, take my word
Eddy has one thing on his mind
A little dog he wants to find

Grab ahold with big dog teeth
Smoke that dog like nice fine spleef
He's just playing, he loves small dogs!
Lady never seen, smashed mummified frogs

----------------

In the dark last night, we go for our walk
At the top of the driveway, my dogs start to talk
To the pittbull in the shadows, in front of us
Backwards we creep, except they make a fuss

Bark and scream and carry on
Big black pittbull, they want him gone
Plus they think we're taking a stroll
But that dog not budging, like a bridge guarding troll

Later on, we try again to get out
Black dog is gone, my dogs don't have to shout
Down the block we see a lady
Doesn't look at all shady

Good thing we had a chance to meet
She's lost her dog somewhere on my street
I say, oh yeah, he was just there
But now has vanished into thin air

A moment later who shall appear
But fatty pittbull, not looking so dear
Buster she calls, happy to find
He's coming at my dogs, one thing in mind

Hackles up, head is low
I could take all of them, is what he show
Lady says, oh he is nice
Yeah, I think, like a cat on mice

Grabs his collar, tells me thanks
Off they shuffle to the outer banks
Onward we go, to the sea in the dark
Compared to all this, who cares about shark

It's not the VonTrapp Family, either.

So did the impulse control work at Dirt Nite? Yes and no.

Yes, I did have quieter dogs, more well behaved dogs, no over the top dogs. Sort of like an Osmonds Christmas special. Otterpop quietly laying on her bed. Gustavo sitting in a foldup crate with the door open. Even when border collies running around. A thing of amazement! Had their Auntie Nancy throw treats at them when I ran Hobbes, and was just so, quiet!

A good thing, right?

Well, Otterpop, still ran around just fine. Actually ran around super great. And I was less stressed out when I ran Hobbes because wasn't worrying about my over the top little monkey losing it, tied up to the fence. But well behaved Gustavo? His runs, sort of like an Osmonds Christmas special. Dull. Crewneck sweaters. Slacks. Barbershop quartet songs about Jesus and pampers. Kind of like dialing the whole thing in.

Yes, there were weave poles. There were contacts. There was running. But there was none of that wacky, fast craziness that makes it so fun. Almost made me want to cry.

Got home afterwards, found my little monkey dog again, playing with a toy upside down on the couch, biting my arm and driving me crazy. Didn't want me to watch Top Chef. Didn't want anyone to watch Top Chef. Just irritated us all until Otterpop launches on top of him and smashes him and then there are just crazy monkeyscream sounds again. Boy did I miss that. Wanted that whole thing about FUN! A little on the edge. Unpredictable. Crazy. Osbornes, not Osmonds. Black Sabbath, but in a good way. Not washed up, dialed in, woozy and shuffly. Maybe Beverly HIlls Osbornes actually not that different than Christmas special Osmonds. Neither of them how I want my speedy little dog to run.

So why? From rewarding him for so much quiet and calm? Created a monster, albeit a well behaved one? Asking too much of one little dog? Isn't impulse control supposed to build drive, not vanish it? What's the balance? Not Osmonds. Not Osbornes. Not Jacksons. Not Waltons. None of these, the right model for Team Small Dog.

Impulse Control-A dog training primer.

I know. Gustavo barks and carries on. Otterpop barks and is a butthead in general because she is such a stress machine. Ruby, actually is a perfect best dog, but she's in on it too. Everyone is working on impulse control at home and at agility. Because I am sick of irritating dogs. Irritating dogs are stressful dogs and stressful dogs are stressful to me, and what the hell. We all need a project.

So the deal is, everyone has to be on their own bed or towel or in a crate with door open and not making a peep. And releasing only to YOUR OWN name. Not leaving your bed or place or tuffett or space pod or mat under any circumstances until YOUR OWN NAME is called. Imagine the perfect storm of Crate Games meets Control Unleashed. So far, I've learned that Otterpop thinks her name is also Ruby. But not Gustavo. And Gustavo doesn't know his name. Ruby knows her name is Ruby but also likes you to say Bubba. At home, everyone either has their Space Pod, Tuffet or Bed that they have to sit in quietly while someone else comes out and gets to play with a toy or learn a new trick. Sometimes, everyone comes out together and plays and sometimes one or two dogs have to sit behind a baby gate in the bedroom and watch someone else doing tricks and no one barks. A key concept here. NO ONE BARKS. And if I decide to make dinner throw a frozen pizza in the oven mid Perfect Storm, then everyone has to sit on their own tuffett or bed or space pod and not irritate anyone else or start a new game or start howling. Did I mention, NO ONE BARKS?

Try this at home. It's easy. Just throw their beds and crates around the living room and if you have a Ruby, she gets your tuffett. Don't have a tuffett? Well, then, perhaps you have imperfect dog furniture. A tuffett a squishy stool. From Urban Outfitters sale bin. Not Muffetts, spiders, et all.

Same thing at agility. Everyone has to sit on their own Place or Bed or Space Pod. Quietly.

Space pod? This would be a crate without a door. You could use a crate with a door too. But maybe you have a portable one that someone not totally down with the whole Crate Games vibe chewed the door up on during border collie turns at agility class. This makes for a perfect space pod.

I will admit that this new obsession of mine has only been happening within the family at agility. Has not gone public yet to class. Tonight at Dirt Night? Doubtful. But we can still practice. What a beautiful Dirt Night it would be if all my dogs were untethered, quietly sitting on their own Bed or Place or Space Pod and just chilling. As a border collie flies around the course. Or how about this one. Don't laugh. What if they stayed like that when I RAN a border collie around the course?

A lofty goal. But a girl can dream.

I set up a little sequence on the only dry corner of the field yesterday morning, right in front of the bed zone. You can just use towels for this. Or not. Get as fancy as you want. Go buy all new dog beds for all I care. Dirty saddle pads work super. I would say do not use these in the house portion of Impuse Control Perfect Storm or your husband will think this is even weirder than he already does. Although likely he will be impressed at your dog training super powers when the dogs are actually behaving. Ha HA!

Everyone took turns doing it with everyone else sitting quietly and not barking on their Place or Bed or Space Pod. And only coming out on their own name and sometimes everyone coming out for a frisbee game, then running back to their spot. If Otterpop didn't think her name was Ruby, and Ruby and Otterpop didn't think their job is to sit together on top of Space Pod, and Gustavo knew his name and would get out of Space Pod, then it would have gone just swell.

It's a work in progress.

Ruby hella happy to do a little bit of agility and learn some tricks and not be so ignored. Otterpop learning to have some Self Control. Gustavo? Maybe learning his name. Actually, he worked on his other new thing we've been doing. I forgot. I went all dog trainer on you a couple weeks ago and didn't tell you. His modified Susan Garrett 2x2 weaves. Modified because watching the video made me want to claw out my eyeballs so I didn't watch it. But I am teaching him to run through 2 poles wherever the hell they are and he is and at super top speed. Then will add more. Am hoping this translates eventually to actually hitting weave pole entrances in dog shows. Ouch. Still practices his poles normal style too. They work good everywhere except at dog shows.

Also, he has to concentrate SO HARD on sitting in his Space Pod, which I forgot was his old super favorite game, that he doesn't bark. When just Ruby and Otterpop are running at least. It's a start. But so far, he can stay in there quiet as a mouse and not run out or bark even when Otterpop is screaming around a sequence and attacking the frisbee. And when Ruby just starts doing her crazy thing out there. So happy to be out and running a little.

Is a little bit dog nazi? Yep. A little bit late in their training to patch up this hole? Yep. Something though, that people with dog groups should really be working on all the time to keep group dynamics shiny and happy and cheerful, so it is like having a cheerful Osmond Family of dogs, smiling Mormons with big teeth, instead of Osborne Family of drug addled, rotten toothed dysfunctional junkie family of dogs? Yeah.

That's not wrong, to aspire the dogs to be like washed up, singing Mormons, right?

I believe it's name is Xanax and a cocktail.

So at the dog agility mudsquish the other day, was standing outside a ring, vacantly planning a course for point collecting in the Jackpot class. CPE's version of Gamblers. A dog agility lady I know sidled up to me to say hello. The usual, "Wow, you drove All the Way Up Here for just one day?" The other one I get is, "I didn't know you did CPE?" Yep. I always just come on Sundays and I go to a few CPE's every year. I do dog agility different than a lot of people but it works for me.

So she starts to give me a run down of the previous 2 days of classes. Show started on Friday afternoon and was a long day on Saturday. Weather, not too bad. Looking like rain today, so watch the drips because the roof leaks.

And, she comes in with a hushed low voice, "There's a lot of AKC people here today."

There is sort of a raised eyebrow sidelong glance with this. Maybe an eyeball left right immediately preceding it, just to see who's nearby. You know how. Like those paintings in the creepy spook house on Scooby Doo do with their left right eyeballs.

I know there's not a lot of people I know there. There's a few people who go to USDAA and CPE, but not lots. I don't really have a bunch of CPE buddies to hang out with, but I've gone to enough of them to know faces and say hi. But I don't really know who is new and who always comes. Not like USDAA, which is the same cast of characters, except at the really big dog show fiesta level extravaganzas where people come from far, far away. CPE, while I might whinge about the courses or the thing with the Colors, always a fresh group of dogs and faces and a huge variation from border collie border collie border collie border collie sheltie. There's about every type of dog you can imagine, including other Otterpop types, who kind of sticks out at USDAA. Otterpop, sort of a basic CPE breed.

So you know, if there is some person just sitting there, setting bars or working at the gate, and not talking, guess what, they can still hear you talking. That's right. So your conversation there, 3 feet from me, is perfectly audible and I get to hear your MACHspeak. Double Q's. Nineteen bucks. How you feel about border collies. How you feel about certain competitors. Learned some AKC things for sure. How much you hate Angelina Jolie for being so skinny in her vampira gown with her perfectly placed tattoos. Oh wait. That wasn't at dog agility. But really. Who engineered Brangelina? I wonder if Mickey Rourke would ever take his pack of dogs to visit their pack of kids in their castle? Did you see last night, he was wearing a Loki the Deceased Chihuahua necklace with his totally unhinged untuxedo?

So wait. That's not what I meant to tell you about. I meant to tell you about a lady I kept seeing. Have no idea what venue is her personal preference. But not a lady I've ever seen before. I did a lot of gating there, at the dog show. To stay out of the rain, and I don't mind running the gate. Gate people, my non dog agility friends, you are the one that lets people in that ring. You have a list. Everyone is on it. Everyone will get in that ring at some point. Not like we're at some pukey, sweaty smelling club in Hollywood and only SOME people getting in. Everyone gets in. Not a red carpet Oscar event, people. Except some people, just FREAK OUT about it.

Sometimes I wish I was like David Letterman when I was running the gate. I wish I was David Letterman all the time anyways. And I was doing a sociological experiment the whole time. An experiment which is super funny to everyone except the experimentee. I think the other guy running the gate, the booming voiced cowboy in tights and galoshes, I think he was experimenting. But I just gated. I try to keep a calm, yet funny gate. Because GAWD is it stressful up there at the gate. And I am your friend. I want you to not freak out before you run your dog. I would say in CPE, overall, WAY more freaking out at the gate than in USDAA. You guys are super interesting, my little experiments, up there about to run your dogs. I like to listen to you. And notice, in a first hand, in your face way about how you deal with your pre-run, this Moment Before the Momentous Occasion of Your Life Called You are About to Run Your Dog Around an Important Course. Hold the Batphone! Momentous!

Not everybody. Some of you? Just calmly hanging out, chit chatting with friends, not really even noticing your dogs. Some of you? Sort of hanging out with your dog, focusing, watching, tugging, found a nice little calm spot to get ready. But some of you? A little bit, um, frantic. Some of you are this one lady. She had a non traditional breed. Maybe let's just call it, for our purposes here, Non Traditional Agility Breed Dog. Because if I tell you what kind of dog it is, Hi! I didn't know all your friends read this and all of a sudden Team Small Dog, Mean and Eavesdropping Noticer of Your Weird Habits and Stay Away From Laura! She will Write A Mean Story About You!

This lady, very crabby about how I dealt with gate conflicts. Pretty much, if you are having a conflict, I want to help you. Sometimes I run 4 dogs at dog agility. I get your conflict pain. I will help you. I understand your motorhome is on a far, far away planet and your dogs must be shuttled back and forth. Or that your other dog runs in another ring. Or you were working somewhere and didn't get to walk the course. Sometimes people with one dog in one ring, they do not feel your pain and do not like someone Messing With the Law, when the law is a print out listed order of which dog runs when. And when that law is violated and a dog goes in front of them, Holy Law of God Broken! What did they vote on Proposition 8? Being a commie homo loving sunuvagun, I will find a way to fix it at the gate.

Non Traditional Agility Breed Lady in your rainpants, life went on. You told me your dog's name 800 times. You asked me 800 times when it was your turn. You whiney shrieked when I moved people around which is aka, accommodating conflicts. You were back there freaking your dog out for so long and good gawd, was your run crazy. And your dog is sort of naughty, which is maybe grounds for extra freaked outness. Potential for disaster out there.

There were a lot of good experiments I thought of that I would have liked to try out on you. Like what if I brought in some Rent-A-Nuns and they want to pray for your dog before it's run but must drape your dog with Ozzy Osbourne style jewelry for optimum praying and they start chanting about Satan? Or Martha Stewart comes in with a video camera and needs to interview you Right Now, before your run, about your dog's poop and how you selected your ensemble and what you are doing to combat global warming? But instead. I just keep standing there with my sharpie. Crossing out names and announcing who's coming up soon. Watch you run poor super stressed out Non Traditional Dog out there, and realized that dog, maybe has tough go at it for a while in this sport. And that really. You just want to do well and your probably love the heck out of this dog. But maybe they will feel the love better, if you work out some stress management issues in a positive and healthy way. Or something.

You knew we would go to the dog show.

I realized that the gnarled, twisty branches on all the blowing trees you see in Elk Grove are the same ones in the Headless Horseman stories. Like horrible, bony fingers lifting up to snatch bats and babies out of swampy gray air and stuff them down into muddy, soupy squirrel holes where things with teeth live who eat babies and bats. Even the palm trees sprouting up every few acres have an eerie twist towards the gray, just to make sure you get it. You are not by the beach anymore. This is land where the tornado could whip across any time, and throw us all across 100 miles of field. This is hard land. Not for sissies. This is land for someone who packs their own booze in an army canteen, smokes Marlboro reds outside the motorhome, and not afraid to get their hands good and dirty.


I set the alarm for 4:30am and I did wake up and drag the dogs into the car and drive out there. Packed nothing but a sandwich, some pop tarts, some dog string cheese, and a parka. Seems like we escorted the storm right to the muddy parking lot of the old rodeo building, and goretex shoes? Ha HA! I spit buckets of brown oozy water on your, goretex. Nothing holds the rains back and spent the day with wet dogs and and wet car and wet legs and wet toes. Wet with a layer of mud coating everything.


Ruby, spent the day snoozing away in her crate. Really doesn't seem to mind not having a turn. Although Ruby's not exactly an open book. Never know quite what that one is thinking. So she could mind, and just shows you by taking a nap. It definitely makes me sad to not run Ruby. Especially at the CPE, because she still aspires towards Miss Fried Okra County Fair. She used to shine at CPE like a sparkling red rock, and now just wants to take a nap. Get well, Ruby, a little bit well. Just to run a little.


Otterpop, shone like a sharp, rusty piece of old tin can, ready and waiting to slice your foot open yet shiney and glinty at the same time. She doesn't like one of the rings in the rodeo building. Never has. A little darker, a little smaller and closed in. And today had a guy in a hoody always behind her to tote her leash across the ring. Hoody guys, pretty much at the bottom of her shit list, in any situation. Somehow she managed and did just fine. But loves the other ring and speeds along at a winnng clip. Had some pretty good runs in the bad ring, had some outstanding runs in the good ring. Although in her Standard run, did the weirdest thing. Was so fast, so confident, so happy, and then runs into a jump on a turn with her chest instead of actually jumping it, knocking the bars, backing up out of the mess and then rejumping it from a standstill. Never seen that one before. Everything OK, Otterpop? In case you were wondering, somehow that equals 10 faults. Not sure how he figured out how to score it, sweet nice judge who is possibly nearsighted on his contact judging. Not that any of MY dogs' were in question, but worked lot of hours in that ring watching contact hitting. But, also keeps his distance from the contacts and so Otterpop happy to have him as her judge.


Gustavo. Hmm. CPE courses at his level, pretty much designed so that even a rabid monkey with brain damage would not fail them. So he had a nice jumpers run, with one hella wide turn, an outstanding jackpot run, with some more wide turns, yet a stunning teeter, yet really crappy weave poles. Ouch. Plenty of points and no problem hitting the gamble though. His dreaded colors run, we picked the Blue Cones, and I set him up, led out past 2 jumps, and he bounced off his startline all on his lonesome. Ouch. This just broke my heart, but whatcha gonna do? Bummer man, and you are not doing that run. Baffled, took him back to the car, and honestly, my heart breaking and cracking the whole way there. Hated to pull him, but you Just. Can't. Do. That. On his last run, a Standard course designed so that blind one-legged rabid monkeys with brain damage could get around safely, I started with him so as not to have the startline debacle rear it's ugly head again, which seemed to confuse him and he ran for a second to the moustached gate guy in the cowboy hat, yellow slicker, with galoshes worn over tights, who announced his name in a booming voice that Gustavo loved, then ran back to me and off he went.


So the dogs were fine, got in some good practice, but wasn't an outstanding day. More of a David Bowie day on the way home in the rain. We were all damp and muddy, and dogs had a whole day of sit in the car except for when they came out to run. Drive in the car, sit in the car, then drive in the car. And drive in the car even more if there is a landslide on Highway 17. Gustavo, who never sleeps, just stares at me from behind my seat. Had enough of car, poor running dog. I at least worked in the building and had many people come up and introduce themselves and tell me the life histories of their dogs. I believe having a Gustavo who is happy to jump up his muddy paws on anyone, most unsubtle ice breaker you could have. I know about your dog now, with his perfect structure. I know about your dog with floppy ears who came from Mexico on Alaska Airlines. I know about your dog who only plays with her toy at home and growls like the dickens. I know a lot about your dogs. I saw some things that make my curdle boil. Some sad, sad handling making for sad, sad dogs. The lady who doesn't want any dogs outside the ring to look at her dog when she's on the startline. Border collie owners, please divert your staring border collie's eyes. A plethora of tiny, hairy pomeranians, who run like the wind on legs the size of chewed up gum wads. Dogs of all shapes and sizes, tough enough to brave the storm and make it home in time for Oscars.

Does one spend a Sunday where one has to holler out the word, "Purple!" super loud?

So I entered a CPE show for this Sunday. Mostly for Ruby. She won't ever get her ADCh. Doesn't look like she'll finish her APD now. But in CPE, that we haven't even done so much of, she is 3 or 4 stupid Colors classes away from a CATCH. The ADCh of CPE.

Oh, confused already, my non dog agility friends? CPE, the Robin to USDAA's Batman. CATCH, the Miss Artichoke Festival to ADCh's Miss America. I thought it would be nice for Ruby to finish some kind of award before she's totally retired from agility. Miss Brussel Sprouts Festival.

Colors my friend, is a class that I avoid entering like the plague. So much so that she finished all the other requirements for the CATCH but needs to just do this class a few times that is like entering half a class. It's like pairs but without a partner. And you need to call out to the judge before you start something like, "Orange!" or "Purple!" and if you forget, off with your head. It just makes me crazy, this whole Colors thing. Remember Colors the movie? It was the '80's and it was the Bloods and the Crips and everyone is shooting everyone else in Compton. I think Ice-T and Sean Penn, then husband of Madonna, were in it. I am pretty certain that Colors the Stupid Dog Agility Class not named after the film. No gang violence, crooked cops, youth murdered, redemption at the end. No Madonna. Just shout out "Purple!" run around for a few seconds and that's the end.

Yeah. It's that dumb. Like almost insulting to enter it, except for when you want your doggy award. One of those things about CPE that makes me just scratch my head. But sent entries pre-lame dog. Wanted Ruby to have her some nice letters to add on to her name. And she's still lame. Looking like will be a while. Just doen't seem that fun to go to CPE and not let Ruby have her turns. Miss Tomato Festival.

The other dogs? Otterpop has used CPE as a place to try stuff out. Really the reason I started going. Pretend you're at a dog show while actually at a dog show. I've done a lot of partial runs with her, strategically hiding a frisbee outside a ring to where if she gets over an a-frame without a judge freakout, or back in the day of her teeter issues, a good teeter, or just anything particularly outstanding, can run out and get rewarded more quick. A fine training method that I hate to use on our precious few USDAA runs. Gustavo? He probably won't do much CPE but it's a good thing to practice I guess. Hello and it's time to meet the CPE weave poles! Except they also have the smooth dogwalk, no slats, that I think looks like a teeter totter to little dogs and makes me wonder, sort of confusing to the poor dog when they think they're running up the teeter and it never totters?

Oh what? You think I'm talking myself out of not going? You can hear my feet dragging already? Because it was going to be Ruby's gig and I'm too lazy to use it as practice for the other dogs? How about if I told you it was in a giant old rodeo building with metal roofs and walls. And you park outside where there's mud with the dogs locked in the car. And outside, it should be a cold, wet, central valley rainstorm with winds and hails and cows blowing by in the breeze? Thick gray air, every direction you look with just sticks for trees every so often across the horizon. And that I'd have to drive so far in the dark of the 5am to get there? To make the dogs sit in car jail all day to do things like Colors? With Ruby just along for the ride like a mascot?

I dunno. Have until 4:30am Sunday morning to decide, I guess. Team Small Dog, except when part of the team has to just sit on the bench. Where the bench equals very nice, long snooze on a nice, soft dog bed in a nice, warm car. Dreaming of the day when maybe wears that Miss Bacon Fest '09 crown and sash.

Not exactly about Dirt Nite but maybe a little.

Well. I was gonna tell you about Dirt Nite (barking) and Gustavo's new tough love auntie who is driven more insane than me by his barking (way strict) who I now hear yelling back at him stuff like, "That's IT! I am giving Ruby (she means Otterpop, Ruby's been sitting in the car sleeping Dirt Nite off while she's lame, but hardly anyone can tell them apart) this cookie and you get NOTHING!" (cranky), and how after a bunch of courses, the dirt (damp) started clumping up in his soft small dog hair (close to dirt) and he had to sit down in the middle of the course, so upset with the dirt, and try to get it out (embarassing). Rendered weave poles done for the night due to bad hair issues. In most ways, Gustavo not a sensitive little princess, except for this thing he has with his HAIR!

Except I'm not telling you that. TSD reader Sarah sent me a sad news clip that Mickey Rourke's chihuahua died. Also she sent me easier bundt cake recipes. Did you ever see him on any post-Wrestler press junket news clips with Loki? Mickey, not bundt cake. Loki was a hundred year old chihuahua that he toted around everywhere. Big, tough, biker, smash face Mickey Rourke toting this ancient, creaky little sweater dog to every interview. I am pretty sure would have toted that little dog into the Oscars, into that fancy new theater on the corner of Hollywood and Highland, where my LA friends won't be driving around this weekend because, HELLO, Oscar traffic. Up there on the stage to get his Oscar and making sure no one bumps frail little Loki on the head with that Oscar. Those things are heavy.

If you see Mickey, make sure to give him your condolences. Check off his name on your Oscar ballot. Loki up there somewhere, tottering around with all our old friends, having their own Oscar party except featuring Oscar Meyer and bacon, and everyone voting for Mickey.

Hola! Gustavo - We are in the Facebook, right?

Hola! Gustavo,

Wait. Is Facebook giving my 25 Things I Said About Myself and Now May Regret to the CIA? Or is Facebook really owned by the Dharma Initiative and are Kate and Charlie really going back to the island?

59 minutes ago - Comment - Like

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Hola 59 minutes ago!

Did you see this video? Data mining technologies and Web 2.0 Happy Birthday! Ben Linus run away with me to the swamp! Hope this helps!

xox, Gustavo



Hola! Gustavo,

Is Facebook sucking the lifeblood out of me and leaving me to rot in the internet and they get all my cat photos and leave me with old mustard bottles in the frig?

Comment - Like - Become a Supporter - Share

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Hola Comment,

Is possible! Right because Web 2.0 mining your data for the power of evil and greed investors big fancy logos on asses of bikers! Also I can eat your cat! Sublicense! Watch me sublicense Facebook!

You hereby grant Facebook an irrevocable, perpetual, non-exclusive, transferable, fully paid, worldwide license (with the right to sublicense) to (a) use, copy, publish, stream, store, retain, publicly perform or display, transmit, scan, reformat, modify, edit, frame, translate, excerpt, adapt, create derivative works and distribute (through multiple tiers), any User Content you (i) Post
Cool! Hope this helps!


xox, Gustavo



Hola! Gustavo,

OK. So many of the shipwreck people in super cute outfits are named after philosophers, like Rousseau and Locke and Richard Alpert and they are recycling time and all kinds of weird shit out there on that island. Yet Kate, she is not named after a philosopher and her pants are cut super low! But isn't Facebook like recycling time, and maybe it is evil like the Dharma Initiative, except we're not sure? Gustavo. Can you help me out here?

6:48 pm - Comment - Like

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Hola 6:48,

My friend Hobbes, he is a border collie and named after a philosopher and he does not like to go on the table! I wish to chase him all the time and we run and run and run forever. We do not even have our own Facebook pages forever more! Hope this helps!

xox, Gustavo

Team Small Dog visits their new friend Team Lance Armstrong for like one second.

Everyone in my neighborhood walked up to the corner of Bay and Mission yesterday to watch the Tour de Lance Armstrong. It was raining, but the sun came out in time for us all to go stand around and wait for the bikers to come through.


Him and his pelatron were going to be whizzing by the surf shop on the corner at 35mph after a long bike ride down the coast and up the mountain from San Francisco.


Everyone in town came out to watch, I think. Amgen.


There was a pretty long time to wait. Live strong. That's a long way to ride a bike. I drive it all the time in the car and it's pretty far. Hello, Volvo, official car of the Tour de California.


Gary came home at lunch to watch the bikers. Perhaps you know that Gary enjoys him some bikes. Hello, million CHP motorcycles escorting the bikes instead of giving tickets today!


When they finally came through, it was pretty fast.


There's way more cars and motorcycles in a bike race than bikes. Because logos look way better blown up to car size than on tiny assed bike riding dudes.


Woosh. Garmin.


Wait. Was that Lance Armstrong?


Or maybe that was?


Did you see him, Ruby? Or was that the other official car of the Tour de Bike Strong?


No one wiped out or anything.


Otterpop was like, whatever. This is a sport that involves leashes and no sticks. B-O-R-I-N-G.


There were a lot of bikes. They went fast. Corporate sponsorship for everyone. The end. We walked back home in the sun, and stopped at the elementary school for the dogs to run around in the swamp for a few minutes. And we got home, ate some bundt cake, and it started to hail. Right on, Lance Armstrong!

Cooking with the Team - F**king Bundt Cake

So to prove I am a true Valentine, I told Gary I would make him a nice dinner. And what does he request?

Bundt cake and enchildadas.

O-kay. That's what your husband or wife says, too, right?

Well, not to worry. Because I am going to help you through the bundt cake part. Enchiladas? That can wait til another day. Go get some from the taqueria if you really need 'em by tonite. Today's project, baking.

We have had other baking debacles in the past. Perhaps you remember the Crack Cakes? Poor little children. Perhaps we should all forget the crack cakes. Let's. Erased. So just follow along with me here, and by the end, you may or may not have bundt cake. Just saying. Keep you in a little bit of suspense.

So the plan was to wear a pantsuit and platform shoes and basically, try to dress like Rhoda. Because I believe she was the Era of the Bundt Cake. But just the shopping for ingredients in the pouring rain was super taxing, and Gustavo had to go be a therapy dog, so all we could muster was a Track Suit. Eachan, are you taking note? I am baking bundt cake in a track suit. Sweat pants.


First thing, you need the Bundt Pan. We had this. Why? I have no idea. Gary says once upon a time I made this cake for him before. I have lost this part of my memory and the only proof is this pan, in the cupboard. You will notice mine not buttered. Butter your pan NOW! Because you will not be sad like I was at the end of the whole fiasco and start dumping in the batter and then remember to butter. F**king bundt cake.


Next you need the chocolate. I got the expensive kind and the Trader Joe's kind. Thought I would mix and match and still tell Gary I used the Sharfen Berger. He is a chocolate snob. I am all about the quantity, not quality. You need a double boiler. I just stuck some water in a pan and put another pan on top and called this double boiler which worked great until the chocolate started doing weird chemistry things. Not sure if that was supposed to happen.


This is the Trader Joe's chocolate. I think it works just fine.


Next thing there is sifting. I had to go and get a sifter. Six bucks I paid for a sifter. Who sifts? But I am trying here, kittens. I may not be able to follow a dog training DVD but I am trying to do this recipe. At first, sifting fun. You stick your flour and baking powder and soda and salt in here and just squeeze the handle.


Over and over, you squeeze the handle.


I mean really. How long is it supposed to take to sift? I hate you, siftter.


Crap. Don't forget the coffee. Which is supposed to be melting with the chocolate in the double boiler which keeps boiling over. Look who's on the coffee cup!


Put in the coffee. Crap. It's only 1 Tablespoon. Shit. The chocolate will be extra coffee tasting, maybe. F**king bundt cake.


OK. So far so good. Here is where it gets tricky. Do the math. 1/2 pound of butter.


All right. Fiasco begins here. How many sticks? Don't lick the sticks. Uh oh. Let me review that recipe. So I actually thought it said 1/2 lb butter. Which is different than 1/2 cup. So let's just cut to the chase.Thanks a lot, damn dogs. But I used exactly TWICE the correct amount of butter. Here's a math fact for you. JUST USE ONE STICK OF FREAKING BUTTER IN THE CAKE.


Let's just keep going along with the general theme of fiasco at this point. As soon as that mixer comes out, potential for doom. So in hindsight, it is recommended to fold the butter with the sugar, then add the eggs.


Oops. There was this thing about light and fluffy in the recipe. Um. Mine is not light and fluffy. However, let's just keep on keeping on here. Folding should also not be delivering butter mixture all over walls and camera.


Then, don't be fooled. Because you are not done with wet ingredients. I was fooled. I added the flour. HOWEVER, this is where you add the milk and sour cream. F**king bundt cake. This better turn out. There is this thing in baking where you are supposed to do it the way the recipe says OR ELSE. We just keep muddling through. Also add the vanilla. And there was cinnamon to add but the jar just looked like a jar of fish food on the counter and I totally forgot it. We don't have fish. Why would I have fish food out on the counter?


So the cake is called Marble Fudge. So you put your chocolate in half the batter and keep the other half plain. Try to use halves. Somehow my halves were not very halvy and ended up with way more chocolate batter.


You are supposed to put it in the bundt can some special way to make it do the marble thing. By this time, I am so over the whole recipe shit and I just sort of dumped in some plain and some chocolate and shoved it in the oven. Ha HA! You thought I forgot to pre-heat the oven? Well, yes actually, I did. So it took a while to actually put in the oven.


Gawd. What a day. So by the end of it all, did we end up with a cake for my belated Valentine? Yes and no. Looks like a cake. I consider myself very lucky here. Tastes? Um, different than a cake. Sort of greasy, queasy like. Not really chocolate or vanilla or marble or fudge or even bundt. Can't really place the peculiar flavor. Something you buy from a cart at the zoo? Does Beloved Valentine love it? In a polite way. He heard cursing during the butter and wet ingredients and cinnamon portion of the fiasco. Dogs? Yes INDEED! Score one for the Team. They love f**king bundt cake.

Marble Fudge Bundt Cake Recipe

Preheat oven to 325 if it is a dark colored pan, and 350 if it is a light colored pan.*

2oz Bittersweet chocolate
1 TBSP brewed coffee
2 1/4 cup cake flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 1/4 cup white sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup sour cream
1/3 cup milk

* Right there is your clue. This is not a bundt cake for dummies kind of recipe. BTW, my pan was medium colored. Shit. I got this recipe off the internet. However, you realize I didn't exactly use this recipe because I forgot the cinnamon and used 1/2 pound rather than 1/2 cup of butter. Better luck to you, my friends.

Weave pole basics, because a cake just isn't always just a cake.

After work, we drove fast down to Salinas yesterday. Sort of racing like. Because I am Jeff Gordon, number 24 NASCAR and I can beat the rain? Also, because in the world of dog agility, you are always driving somewhere that isn't just around the corner to the liquor store and it's useful to see if you can get there faster. With shortcuts. Secret shortcuts. And also because it was See's Candy day at work, being Valentines and I had like 19 pieces before I flew down the driveway. So we drove to Salinas, which is a good drive because you pass several houses with stone deer and bear tableaus. I couldn't stop to take photos, however, now being wide eye jacked up on Nuts and Chews and doing a time trial of fastness driving and also trying to beat the rain. Because it was my favorite border collie's birthday. Hobbes is 10 years old. And I had to give him a piece of cheese. A pretty rotten present, but I also got my own husband genuine Nothing for Valentines, so Hobbes doing pretty good getting a piece of cheese.

And for really because Rob said he would help me with Gustavo. Because I am like "Wah, wah, wah, I am sucking at training my dog!" all the time and so Rob said he would see if he could fix us. And actually, as it turns out, at Rob's house he isn't that broken, like maybe he isn't really all that sucky and I am just a whiney complainer from seeing his first standard video. Which you all saw too and mostly were just all, hey nice pants.

Vintage addidas.

He did miss some poles here and there, but he also hit a lot too. No, my non dog agility friends, not HIT hit them. But starts his windy little trip through them at the right spot. I know dog agility looks arbitrary and shrieky and actually, super lame to some of you, my non dog agility friends, the ones still with me here after I started talking about dog birthday presents. But there is precision and organization and rule following here. And being a non precise, non organized, bad rule follower, this makes agility super hard sometimes. Mostly, Rob looked at me sort of quizzical like, and was like, maybe you shouldn't be obsessing so much on these poles. Because you know. Bad feelings sent via esp to your poor damn dog with obsessing.

Holey nuts and chews.

Uh, yeah. He also suggested trying a sort of MSG (modified Susan Garrett-ooh the thought just sends chills down my spine. Does one dare modify the Susan Garrett and live to tell about it?) 2 poles backup plan. Sort of like, you are a bad Top Chef and you keep on throwing the balsamic vinegar and scallops with fruit and cheddar cheese in the cuisinart and keep on making whatever the hell it is you are trying to make there, but also at the same time practice your Knife Skills and learn to fillet the boney little sardine. I don't even have a cuisinart. So a new little project to add on to the project list.

Which brings me to the project today because being somewhat holiday impaired, didn't deal with Valentines and so have promised to make a nice cake for my nice husband today. Actually didn't even deal with Top Chef last week and have no idea who's even left. But my nice husband did deal with Valentines and sure deserves a nice cake. A bundt cake, to be more precise. Sort of retro cool if I bake it wearing a pantsuit, right? Probably all you know Laura good enough to know, holey nuts and chews. That's gonna involve recipes and the oven and a mixer and pantsuit selection perhaps with pucci style accessories and fiasco, sure to follow. Also thought as long as making the bundt cake, how about a whole genuine cooked meal to go with it with, you know, food and stuff. Something somewhat more complex than my super popular dish, cold pizza from refrigerator. Hmm. Something that speaks to the whole issue of not just a cake, but a bundt cake.

So off to select appropriate footwear and, wait. How this helping his weave poles?

Useful construction job tips as if I had any idea what I was talking about.

So if you come to visit me today, it is easy to find my house. Just look for a house that looks like a giant blue tarp. Yes, that's the one, with a wood junk pile for a front yard. You found it! The giant blue tarp, left over from the great roof fiasco of 2007, hides what was only a gaping hole for a couple of day and now involves wood and posts and things that you could actually walk on and use to reach a front door. Soon we will even be able to open a genuine, real front door and not have dogs leaping out through and over the void. And get the THING that lives under the house! Very excite. Brian may be a surfer but he is a surfer with kids and a mortgage and he shows up every morning for our construction meeting and then just starts measuring and cutting and hammering while I go off to Home Depot or the door place or the tile place or the lumber yard with my folder and measuring tape to buy him things.

Usually when you are ripping off chunks of your house you want to have everything ordered and ready to go before actual ripping off chunks starts, but since Brian just kind of showed up ready to work and I have been waiting for Brian for years, I had him start ripping and I just drive around really fast and design the front porch in my head in the car before I go buy a piece of it on the way to work. I designed and ordered the tile for the tile deck and stairs that way, and count slats and measure railings in my head. So maybe the front porch is going to look crazy and lesson learned, picking out decorative Mexican tile in your mind while driving might have been, crazy. We shall soon see. Although the fast driving and cel phone helped me find a new front door which is very beautiful and vintage looking yet cheap because was sitting around somewhere, all dusty.

Remember that dog rule, Clear Communication Results in Fewer Nervous Breakdowns for All Parties Involved? That is also a rule for construction jobs when you are your own contractor and project manager and designer and delivery guy. And you know about all of that stuff about as much as you know about being Top Chef. But you are a clear communicator! And good at giving out nervous breakdowns! Here's some of my favorite construction job tips:

Be very, very good at drawing.

Put all pieces of paper in the folder. Take notes on each piece of paper with good drawings. Take your folder everywhere you go. Even to the bathroom. During construction projects, do not ever let go of your folder.

If you do not trust Orson at Home Depot, trust your instinct and DO NOT hand over your folder. Orson might SAY he knows about door jam sizes but he is NOT touching my folder. Something, just off about Orson. Go to the other construction store.

Tape some of your drawings to actual construction site. INSIDE blue tarp, not outside.

Everyone on the job site needs their own tape measure. We all need to measure. Don't be afraid of the measuring! Measure! Then draw it!

Always call Brian when they say words you do not know at the construction store before you hand over a credit card.

The tile will be a nightmare, just order stuff in stock and from vendors that are within a fast UPS range. It helps if you are very good at drawing and can speak spanish at the tile place.

When you are measuring and using the math, also use the calculator and do this three times. Do not do it twice. Three times. This is the whole reason you had to take math in high school. It is all clear. Make sure you have a drawing to go with the math and you should be ok. If you have a Masters Degree in art, and only basic high school math, wish me luck that this actually ends up looking like a front porch at the end of it all.

Oh yeah. And if it's raining and it's Friday the 13th and this is the day you should be picking up an unfinished wooden front door and it's own personal door jam in the unregistered truck with no clutch while simultaneously being at work at the same time, also wish me luck.

In this episode, some of us may be weeping while some of us may eating soup.

Dirt Nite got cancelled last night. Because actual water fell from the sky.

Was I sad when I plucked my phone out of my heavy jacket's kleenex pocket with shivering, damp fingers, to receive this news at work? Which I heard while watching the big black clouds come rolling right at me from across the hills while I was busy tucking horses into their extra warm nighttime jammies? Thanked the nice man for the news, spraying disease from my sniffling sinuses and hacking throat back onto my germy little phone, tucked back into my germy, dirty pocket.

Sad to hear that I didn't have to drag in an entire course worth of agility stuff from out of the trailer, up the little muddy hill in the rain in air that might even spit ice balls at my head? Drag finger pinching metal bases and dogwalk planks and 20' tunnels and the a-frame which used to be dirty and now, muddy? And then stand around in parkas yelling over rain pounding the covered arena roof, then running around listening to barking which is even louder than the metal roof noise, then drag all the dirty, muddy, finger pinching stuff back down the little muddy hill back into the trailer in the dark?

That instead of all this and more, I would just go home to my house which has a heater and maybe even a can of lowfat minestrone soup with my name on it?

Wouldn't a good agility person be sad? Weeping?

Yeah. And shouldn't all sarcasm be gently wiped off the rainbow by the smiling unicorn family?

Print 'n' Save Coursemap Day.

You think I don't make coursemaps and stuff when I practice? You think it's just random because I seem sort of uh, random? And you saw Gustavo's first standard run. Like someone who does sad little practices by running around in the forest and actually, not practicing. But I do! I do! And here's some course maps for you so you can practice too.

First thing when I get to the field, say hi to the sheep!

Then it's time to drag stuff around. I move fast. I have limited time folks. Like Dennis Hopper. He never thought he'd be doing boring commercials for Ameriprise. Yet now he is. Poor Dennis Hopper. We all only have so much time. Drag drag drag drag drag.

Start out with some dogwalk ends, blazing fast and staying there. Sort of like muffin tops, except they're dogwalk ends. These make for some super fast dogwalks later on. Trust me. I don't have a course map for this. It's easy. Grab yer dog, stick em halfway up the end and they should be in a FRENZY to run down to their stellar contact. Do this a bunch. They have to HOLD that contact and you can lead out to jumps far away. Then RUN!


Do some boxes with wraps alternating to 180's and front crosses and rear crosses to the teeter. Boxes? Just follow the cow and the sickle.


Long leadout from the tire to the tunnel to a line of jumps that rear cross to the poles. Uh. Getting into the poles at the right spot. Not the second pole. This is an issue for Gustavo right now. His poles have gotten super fast, and consistent except for the little missing that entry issue. Big issue. We are starting project 6 pole entry bootcamp in my driveway again. Ruby got to do just the tunnel a few times. She looks ok. I dunno. Not going to press the issue and let her get lamer finding out. So she just pretends she's practicing what the other dogs do but really it's just sending out to a tunnel a few times for her turn.


Some tunnel/a-frame discriminations from doing that whole thing backwards. Also teaching Gustavo that fun gamblers skill of tunnel a-frame tunnel a-frame.


Then I made a course. A really hard one. Ran it first with Otterpop. Then Gustavo, who benefits from working out the mistake kinks with Otterpop. Who doesn't care about mistakes, that dog'll run all day if it involves a frisbee. Most of her mistakes the direct result of doing most of her practice at distance work. Gambler's Q's. So when I practice courses, she is all about the Out. If only Gambler's Q's took place in the privacy of our practices. Bring on those crazy hard gambles, because we have 'em.

So you can do Team Small Dog's Tuesday course, too. Start at cow over on the top right. It's:

Cow-poles, then our little discrimination thingy. Cow, cow a-frame, Right Tunnel.

Then an out to the backside of cow, and a quad serpentine cow cow cow cow, if cow can also be a tire.

Then up the bone to a good contact, to our sickle box.

Back down to cow tire which is a THREADLE, ok? Then a pull back into pipe, back up the cow line that ends with that rear cross into the poles.

Right on!

It's rainy season, which means it's time to start ripping chunks of my house off again!

Meet my front porch. A nice place to sit and relax, if your favorite way to relax is laying in wait for the mailman so you can possibly remove at least one of his limbs, once and for all. Otterpop. Also a nice place to stick your leg through rotten boards and not come in our front door, which only opens via secret, complicated method from inside the house.


Well, hasta la adios, front porch. You were my friend, then you weren't, and now I sentence you to death. Come 8am, here comes Brian, who I am pretty sure doesn't surf and will actually show up, in his white van with his tools of mass destruction. Hence beginning the new project called Laura drives to Home Depot a lot to buy whatever Brian's heart desires.


Our hopes and dreams for this new endeavor and our new friend Brian? I just hope Brian doesn't surf and actually builds a new porch instead of leaving us forever with a gaping hole attached to front of house. Ruby dreams he eats burgers for lunch and Gustavo hopes he does not use the dreaded sheet rock screws, which scare him more than pitbulls and tornados. Otterpop? Needs a new porch asap. Because, you know, mailmen, mormons and mayhem.