One week countdown to when we go to Kentucky for the 2010 USDAA Cynosport World Games!

Actual video footage of genuine dog agility practicing. Doing hard stuff. No lazy slackers here.

In one week, me and Otterpop get on the airplane to fly to Kentucky. That's right. I take the loudest and most willful and biggest pain in the ass of a dog that I have, stuff her in an unattractive and tacky ass tote bag, shove her under a dirty airplane seat and fly to a part of the United States known for Daniel Boone, bourbon based cocktails and Trixie's Gold Room.

Actually, that sounds pretty good. Hopefully we have time to visit a haunted plantation house, too. At midnight.

Oh. And the whole dog agility part. Where we hang out with all our pals who are world champions in their spare time, and try not to worry about the fact that Otterpop can sometimes pause at the top of the a-frame, narrow her eyes at the judge, and shoot foul smelling, spiked laser beams right at his or her heart before casually completing the course on her own terms which may include taking a detour to chase down an RV that happened to drive by the ring when Otterpop didn't find it convenient for it to do so.

Oh. And then actually do the agility. In between all the hanging out and not doing the agility.

None of my world champion pals have dogs that do stuff like Otterpop. This would be because they've figured out the dog training so well they end up world champions, and I got stuck on the part where I was looking at the window wishing I had a life size plastic pony on the roof. But it would look really good. There's a flat section just screaming out PLASTIC PONY. And I could decorate it with Christmas lights and Mardi Gras beads year round.

So we've been practicing, me and Otterpop. Her with the funky leg that isn't supposed to practice much. Me with the chunky legs that look better in David Bowie platform boots than the shamefully ugly footwear we wear for our sport. Except the ugly ones are actually oh, so comfy. The platform boots caused ankle duress. We watched some of the World Cup videos on the internet this weekend, and then watched our video from our Monday practice day. (Which, kittens, isn't taking place in a cage, by the way. That's netting. I am not known for high production values. It's at my friend Kathleen's beautiful field.) Uh oh. It doesn't look the same.

And this is a surprise?

In the evening, I threw Otterpop's stick out too far into the surf. Otterpop got stuck in a wave, and for the briefest instant, went under, and then got sucked into a wedge. I was with Karl Ewald and we both thought we might have to dive in and rescue her. Because we're both so sporty and surfy like that. Not. I kept yelling at her so she'd hear my voice, and she swam as hard as she could through the wave and bodysurfed back up to the sand. Otterpop might be an ass, but she is a tough little nut to crack.

Later I told Karl, I really want to do good at the Nationals. But I'm also going for Project. Fun Project of Fiasco. Because all projects are.

"Right," he goes. "It's a win-win situation."

I thought about this a minute. Bad for life, good for story!

"No matter what happens, except for if she gets hurt, you're a winner."

A flash of Otterpop's little head in the waves goes by. THAT will never happen again. That I'm sure of. She's not getting hurt. So I guess, no matter what, we're winners. It's going to be an adventure. That's what we'll call it.