A few thoughts on Dirt Nite.

Dirt Nite is fun. I was thinking, about the only way it could be improved was instead of the muddy, damp covered arena it's held in, with the sludgy black dressage dirt, if it could be in an old ballroom. Like the one in the Shining? And there's a wood paneled bar there, and we all have our own leather barstools, and a bartender in a little bow tie. Ever had pomegranate tequila? It's expensive. At the Dirt Nite bar, it would be cheap and poured liberally.

I have a whole bunch of new beginning students. They're gonna be good. I love teaching agility. I'm no all star instructor. I yell out lectures on the joys of holding those contacts and wave my arms and jump around a lot. I still make at least one enormous handling error every Dirt Nite, when I do my runs later on in the evening. Laura put a front cross WHERE? Crap. But I love teaching the beginners and helping them get their dogs fast and contacts accurate and feeling the teeter totter love. Maybe I am sort of the loud, hyper auntie of dog agility teachers.

Hobbes had all creepy tables. Like, bad, neurotic tables. Uh oh. I love Hobbes. And it's his birthday this weekend. He's the only dog I know with a genuine birthday due to not being found on the side of the road or picked up in Mexico. But I have a very sinking feeling about his ability to ever lay down on a table with me again. I think it means he loves me with all his border collie heart. Which I guess is better than him laying down on the table. If you look at it that way.

Otterpop ran around a little with one of my favorite dog agility pals who I don't even think is old enough to drink but I am sure sneaks beers just the same. Her dog was hinky and I always have spares in the car and off they went. I don't usually watch Otterpop run. Across the arena, far far away from me, she looked sort of like a zooming, vrooming, flying hamster with no legs. Is that what Otterpop always looks like? Jeez. Ruby didn't have any turns. She'll still love me in the morning.

Gustavo was fast and fast and fast. Poles. Contacts. Tables. Quiet between his turns. Because I put him in the car. But still. A few moments of distraction here and there, but basically his brain held together and I hope he can run like that on Sunday in Turlock. I'd like to think it's a result of our Focus Bootcamp. I'm just going to say it's a result of our Focus Bootcamp. He'd look so cute on his own little barstool. Jumping into the plastic thing where the limes are. In his crazy cartoon character gallop across that ballroom floor.