At Dirt Nite last night, Otterpop and Gustavo both got to take turns. And of course, Hobbes. They all ran really fast. And I ran really fast. About as fast as we all possibly could is what I think. There is nothing more fun than doing agility like that. Really, really fast. With minimal screwups. It's a good Dirt Nite if you run so fast you sweat and then the dirt sticks to all skin surfaces. The dirtier you are, the faster you went.
They are now all addicted to 24" poles, I need to go back to those old skool skinnies and practice with Otterpop this week. Sorry about that, Otterpop. Otterpop ran like a champion last night. So now we just got to keep that in her mind. Maybe I can craft her a thought bonnet out of foil. And leave holes for the ears.
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?
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