Lost and found during explosive season.

Stuff I have lost in the last couple weeks:

-Both pairs of sunglasses.
-Lens cap.
-Visa bill.
-My best fake tooth.
-My cute black cap.
-My temper. Badly. At the car place. Where Jetta TDI Sportwagen fancy new car spent over a week because it's brakes went bad.

Stuff I have found:

-Brakes. Actually, Jaime, who has those giant earlobe plugs in both ears and a massive tattoo of the Mexican flag all over his arm, was the one that finally found them. Thank you, Jaime.
-One pair of sunglasses. The scratched ones. But better than nothing.
-Gustavo's weave poles.

I didn't really find the poles. Robot did. I have had Robot out for driveway weave poles, and impressively, when beloved Robot is out there, filled with Hepatatic Super Ultra Pricey Only From Vet Office dog food bits and Vegan Sweet Potato chunklets, Gustavo can do no wrong in 6 poles. I can be on the other side of the fence and he can run around and dive into the poles perfectly and speed through to Robot. Not an entrance he can miss, the Round-The-Trash-Bins one is especially spectacular.

Although the only way for him to get up any high speed is starting him in the street and that makes me a little nervous. Because it's Gustavo. And cats. And cars. And the sprinting toddler that mysteriously came flying down the sidewalk in a tutu. Gustavo's less than stellar focus on me makes those street starts a little dicey. A massive training hole. Your dog should play with you, any time, all the time. Even when the cat jumps off the fence and a toddler comes screaming out of nowhere wearing only a tutu and the low rider guy's hydraulics thunk and hiss.

We also found that Robot's beep can overrule fireworks. Fourth of July has started already on the westside. It's a 2 week long holiday of bombing that makes Ruby and Gustavo spend much of their time quivering under furniture. Luckily for Ruby, she seems to have lost a good deal of hearing this year and hopefully this lets some of the explosives stay under her radar. Gustavo gets to spend more quality Robot time, waiting for his beep. Firework? Beep. Weave poles? Beep.

Now if only I could find that tooth.

Welcome to International Dog Agility Workers Day.

It has come to my attention that agility workers are being exploited with grueling work days and hard jobs offering no pay or health benefits. That's right. No pay. They are not being provided with adequate safety equipment. Workers are not being compensated for performing dangerous jobs at trials, and the time has come to speak out against this bourgeoisie exploitation of the proletariat of the dog world.


Do you hear this, agility workers of the world? There is no reason to stand for this oppression and the time for uprising is now.


That's right. You want that a-frame moved? The right size legs put on the table? The chute lovingly fluffed and securely fastened on to it's plastic barrel? These jobs are performed by skilled agility workers, and agility workers around the world have decided to leave the equipment where it lies. The jump order is tall to small? Well, those jump bars are still sitting out there in a plastic garbage can in the trailer and they're not getting out to that ring anytime soon unless basic, humanitarian needs of workers worldwide are met.


Union busting radicals disguised as trial organizers historically have plied workers with sparkly little trinkets like sandwiches and raffle tickets. Those bastards. Workers can see right through these ploys to lull workers into the lazy complacency of corporate tyranny.


They use cloying terms such as volunteerism. For the good of the sport. Community. Grass roots. Then they whirl around with a sneer and shriek at one of our brethren for not setting the tire at the right height. And perhaps leaving it's little chain dangling at the top. Which really is a safety hazard and shouldn't take a rocket scientist to remember that you have to wrap it around the thingy at the top so the big dogs don't whack their heads on it?


There are 12 hour days with no breaks. Porta potties being provided for bathroom facilities with no hot water, no mirrors, and the cheapest, low grade toilet paper that K-mart offers on two-for-one day.


Workers aren't provided with basic safety equipment for heroic acts such as resetting dropped bars between the opening and closing rounds of snooker. Occasionally, child labor is used for the of running leashes from one gate to the other, working their little toesies to the bone.


The time is now for the masses to revolt. The fat cats sitting up there on top of their dogwalks made of gold are in for a rude awakening as the quiet growl of revolution grown less faint. They may argue that the workers benefit from the fruits of their labors. With what? A tiny dog show ribbon? A crappy piece of pvc for earning a title of distinction?


No. The time is ripe for workers to band together. They have nothing to lose but their choke chains. Not that any of them were using these. Their comfortable, velcro attached dog harnesses. Nothing to lose but those. And possibly their silvery mesh shade cloths. And folding chairs with little cupholders. And also maybe their little fans that they attach on the side of their dog crates to blow cool air in on their dogs.


But aside from that, nothing to lose. Except also maybe running their dogs. Because in an anarchy state, who knows how to set the measuring tape on the center line so the courses get built right? And the electronic timers? And good god. The score table.


And there would be no jars of candy or muffins on the score tables because no one is going to do a Costco run now? Oh, and no broad jump because only like 3 people know what size that's supposed to be in Steeplechase and now they're out marching?


Oh, and also, actually, there would be no ice. Um, or equipment trailers with all the stuff. And the potential mayhem at the gate without a gate steward would be even uglier than any revolution in the streets. Actually, pretty dangerous. Oh yeah, and the motorhome people duking it out without anyone to arrange the parking places. And there wouldn't even be judges since who would hire them, and even if they magically showed up because they booked their flights on their own credit cards, no one around to find them murderer-free hotel rooms and rental cars.

So likely, everybody might just need to stay home and actually, no use for dog agility workers anymore.

So not sure if marching still necessary? Just hold off on the uprising? And everybody take a turn at setting some bars.

Weave pole training under duress-the urban combat edition.

I was so mortified by my cranky, whiny outburst about no-time-no-room-to-practice the other day that I set up 6 poles in my skinny driveway. If Gustavo can weave through the rose bush and into the side of my house when I send him into the poles from the street where the lowrider guys' cars are making hissy, hippy hoppy, hydraulicky sounds in the dark, shouldn't he be able to weave in a trial?

One would think. Although I can tell you right now that he can't weave under those distractions with the neighbor's cat up on the fence. A dismal failure.

I hate that cat.

So now my goal is can I get him to weave through the rosebush, into the wall, during lowrider car hopping with cats watching from on top of the fence. In the dark. Maybe if I can make this work, maybe he can do the weaves at a trial.

Or maybe not. But I guess, why not try?

This is one of those complainy things that I usually hate and would never read on anyone else's blog but you know, too tired to write anything good.

Some of our agility pals are up in Seattle this weekend having a world team practice in a building with some kind of special fake grass. Hi pals! I guess it must rain up there a lot and agility happens indoors? I sure do like to do agility outside where I can see a sky and some trees but everyone has their own weather. The fake grass looks beautiful on internet video, though. Like Willy Wonka flooring. It seems like they would have fake trees around though, to add ambience? I would be happy to come help decorate indoor agility buildings!

Thanks to the magic of the internet and facebook, we can watch their drills and see what they're practicing with Coach Nancy. Someday this might all be classified under Homeland Security if say, the Russians or the Norweigans want to set up the same drills and then beat the pants off the USA. But for now we get to play along at home.

But here's the thing. For me to practice, since I don't have a yard, I would need to stuff into my car RIGHT NOW, 6am, my jumps and tunnel, drive fast to the park, set a drill, unstuff, make sure the dogs are ready to practice, practice really fast, unset drill, restuff car, drive fast home, drive fast to work. Instead of drinking my coffee with a dog on my lap and watching everybody else do the drills in the computer.

Working a zillion hours a day, and not having a yard is an excuse a lot of people use all the time for sucking at agility. I try to be of the Train-Don't-Complain mindset and practice everywhere and anywhere I can, but damn. I get really, really tired. And so me and the dogs don't go insane, we like to run fast down to the beach in the morning and just run around for a few minutes. Wasting valuable potential practice time-the magic hours before 7am and after 7pm, which usually belong to work.

I write stuff pretty fast, but this whiny bit just cost me over 5 whole minutes. Massive failure again! Although I did scarf down some cereal at the same time. That extra 5 minutes actually did cost me a shower, though. Writing a blog is hard work, and my personal hygiene probably reflects it. You've seen my hair.

I've jotted down the drills. We'll find some time to set it up, somewhere, someday. Because they look really fun and hard which are the 2 things we need to get us better. But you know that whole thing Malcolm Gladwell recommends, you need to do something for 10 gazillion hours to get any good at it? I would take his advice, he writes fancy books and gets stories published in the New Yorker. He's no cut-rate Blogger. That is a lot of hard hours to log when the idea of stuffing the weave poles in the car makes you want to just go back on facebook and watch how the champions handle the sequence again. Because you actually didn't finish the cereal. Because you were typing.

It's a downward spiral. I am rapidly losing beach moments before we got to get in the car and get to work. Definitely no dog staying on your side and sending easily to a backside of a jump without taking the other jump and going in the right side of the tunnel. I know everybody is busy and this happens to you, too. And the people with agility in their yards have to take the time to mow! Or rake your grass if it's fake. Which cuts down on agility time. Like typing. And going to work. To get the money. That you need to pay for things. Like dogs. Life is hard. We could be sweat shop sex slaves living in basements! With not even one minute of agility! Or a dog! Or even fake grass. Righty-o and off we go!

Walking on the westside.

This used to be the drug dealer phone. Now it's just an Otterphone. Use the touchscreen at your own risk.


This is the corner box with all the wires. I think it controls radio communications with the mother ship for the block. Otterpop likes to get up there and stare at people walking in and out of the corner store. Just don't make eye contact with her, and everything will be fine.


This is the tree in the old folks apartment complex parking lot. There are no bears in these trees, ever. I can't confirm this is because Otterpop and Gustavo can climb trees, nor can I deny it. It is usually preferable to have dogs in your trees, as opposed to bears.


If you see Otterpop in your front yard tree, you could throw her a chunk of meat. She'll go away eventually. She just likes your tree.

Thank you, Otterpop.

When we went to practice today, Kathleen had a really fun course set, an old Scott Chamberlin one for a past World Team Tryout. I set it at 8", pulled Pop out of the car and away we went.


It was so fun, we had to do it again without stopping. And then again and again and again, each time running harder and faster and making those turns better, and each time was better and if you have never seen this Otterpop, you gotta sometime. She is unbelievable, this Otterpop. She may never show you in a trial, but this Otterpop is insanely fun to run courses with. Especially the tricky ones.


It's the same Otterpop that had to sit in a crate the other night when we had guests over for a barbeque. The same Otterpop that has pretty much no freedom in life right now due to her irritable bad temper. Thank god for agility for me and Otterpop. Because I'm not sure what we'd do without it.


Gustavo proved quirky practicing. He was mad, mad, mad for the teeter, yet seemed befuddled by weave poles. The table was a happy place, yet his normally no brainer of an a-frame unexpectedly became the tall thing to run by really fast and take an off course jump beyond it. I decided to cut our losses and went back to basics. Sat down in the shade and shaped a silly trick to stand on an upside down food bowl and tap his feet.

Thank you, Otterpop.

The time Gustavo experimented with AKC agility, and I do mean literally, an experiment.

So we did it. We sauntered up to the AKC agility trial in Scotts Valley yesterday, meandering in about 10am. Figured I'd work a little, get Gustavo measured, run our 2 novice runs, help them pack the trailer, and be home by 2 or so.


Turns out, AKC agility takes longer to run. It was a 2 ring trial with a much more leisurely pace than what we're used to. But the array of dogs! My god. Great Danes. Tiny fluffy dogs. Golden Retrievers as far as the eye could see. Poodles and terriers of all shapes and sizes. Dogs with barettes and dreadlocks. A huge change from border collie, border collie, border collie.

Gustavo ran standard around 4pm. I guess I have a lot to learn about AKC agility. Lots of my friends were there, already running. Because they are Excellent. Then most of them went home. No one sticks around for Novice. Except us Novices.

There are extra rules in AKC agility. You put the sticker on your shirt. You get the leash off the chair. You don't let your dog play frisbee on the field over there. You wait to do anything until the timer says GO. We almost didn't break any rules.


Honestly, I knew an awful lot more people there than I thought I would. Lots of my friends from Santa Cruz do AKC agility, lots of my students do AKC agility, and lots of my USDAA pals do AKC agility. So it was sort of like being at a USDAA trial except MAKE SURE YOU GET YOUR LEASH OFF THE CHAIR BEFORE YOU RUN OUT OF THE RING.

I remembered this rule exactly once out of the 2 runs. Gustavo was really good about remembering to lay down on his leash once I sprinted over to the chair and got it and threw it down on the grass.


He didn't seem totally focused on his jumpers run, and had a bit of a weak start. He just seemed a little off before hand, a little bit stressed out. Didn't really even want a treat, didn't want to play with the frisbee or anything. So I just started running fast, it was just a gentle loopy course, and I pulled him by a jump but we just kept going. Once he kicked into gear he seemed all right.


On his standard run, I just wanted to get as far as the table then if he laid down on it, run out and go play illegal frisbee on the illegal field with Otterpop. I had her all ready and waiting in the wings. He had a great first part of the run up to the table-awesome startline, great dogwalk, and when he hit that table, almost skidded off and then wouldn't lay down.

But at least he didn't go into a weirdo vortex. Just stood there looking cute and wagging his big fluffy tail.


That's a tough one. I can't pull him out of the ring, that's just so not him. This whole kinder, gentler agility Gustavo agility doesn't involve any walks of shame unless it's an extreme vortex emergency. So I just kept going, which is a dicey proposition since he knows he didn't do the table right and I am sailing into uncharted, bermuda triangle bigfoot waters by doing this.

He ended up bailing off the teeter, zipping by the pole entrance and I totally abandoned ship and just ran into a tunnel and down the last line of the course to the finish. A mayday moment. But not quite a vortex.


Since all my runs now with Gustavo are of the zero expectation, what the hell is going on with him genre, all I can do is find the positives. He didn't freak out. He may not have been able to do a teeter or table or poles, like basic agility elements, but he held it together, stayed fast and did everything else he needed to do. He didn't seem like he was in a panic, just like he got kinda sorta messed up out there.


Yes. Obviously something is wrong with Gustavo. All I can do is try to help him figure out how to get better. He wouldn't eat much at the trial, and he wouldn't eat when we got home. But he didn't check out as far as I could tell. It made me a little crazy the plethora of people telling me I should be happy about him standing there on the table looking all cute because they can do that in AKC. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE Q, peoples. I just want my dog to do agility as fast as he can because he is full of joy, not ammonia, and uphold our training criteria. Q's be damned.

We had a good day, really. Gustavo is like my agility science project at this point. We practice, we go to class, but he can't really do agility in the show ring. I would have liked to have reported that running gentle, happy novice courses near our house fixed his issues. Maybe I had just a little bit of expectation. Do I need to become a Buddhist? For my dog agility? As long as he's happy about it though, I'm going to keep trying. So this probably won't be his last time in an AKC novice ring. Look for us in one near you.

Just Wearing What? JWW and Gustavo's upcoming introduction to AKC agility.

You know, I haven't told Gustavo his brain is affected ammonialy hepatatic encephalapthetically due to his microvascular weirdo mitten thumbed all over the place liver. I just mostly tell him stuff like how awesome he is. And that he's going in an AKC trial this weekend.


Without the other dogs. That's right. No Otterpop, no Ruby. They're going to wait in the car. Gustavo is the only member of Team Small Dog who is now a card carrying member of the American Kennel Club.


We are going to test those AKC waters on Sunday in Novice A JWW and Novice A Standard. Yep. We are now someone who who abbreviates JWW. Jesus Wearing Wetsuit. Jehovah's Witness Waterboarding. Jelly With Worms. Just What Wiggles.


I doubt we'll do enough AKC to ever worry about it's holy grail, Double Q. I think you are supposed to make flickering jazz hand fingers by your eyeballs when you say that. Double QQQQQQQ. We're just all about the in AKC, good enough to be ON the table, no laying down required. Gustavo. Just get up there and don't get underneath! Let's make AKC a vortex free zone!


Whatever Gustavo wants to make of this is ok by me. I am trying to be of the zero expectation minset with him from now on. If he can't run to his leash and lay down before running out of the ring, who the heck cares? If he pops out of his weave poles like he was on Monday in practice because I placed his inexplicably exciting new best friend frisbee at the end of them, so be it. For Gustavo, that's a good problem to have. Good god, he's playing with a toy near agility equipment. And good god, it's helping me re-create problems we have in trials. No surprises anymore from him, no expectations. We are all about in the moment.

I just want to get him in more rings for little baby short days, and see if he can have as good of time at a trial as he has practicing. Zero stress, we are just going to be party people. Novice ring of the AKC trial, here we come!

Night time agility class for the working stiff.

The drive over the mountain at the end of the day for agility class can be grueling. Last night I was rushing, no time to walk dogs, no time for coffee, no time for food. Just enough time to quick scoop some broccoli and blueberries into Gustavo's dogfood bowl. Energy food for a crummy liver. Stuck a spoon in the jar of cold hot fudge in my frig before I ran out the door. Energy food for the agility gal on the go.

Nightime agility class at the end of the work day isn't always easy. It takes about an hour to drive there. Half way there all I can think about is coffee coffee coffee, but there isn't time to stop. Class starts at 7:30 and there's traffic and it's hot and did I mention there's no coffee? It's a journey to get over the mountain and across San Jose and back up the other mountain. Really I just want a nap. Not enough hours in the day.

Do you like that song "Pumped up Kicks" by Foster the People? So tired I couldn't even sing along in the car. And I can always sing along with that one.

There's mosquitoes up there on the mountain, and the full moon starts coming up over the cow hills. Somehow, no matter how tired I am on the way there, no matter how tired I am walking the first course, as soon as we get out to run, I don't fall asleep. Sometimes I might go brain dead, but the dogs are ready to run and I have to focus so I can run them good. I think this is useful for staving off future dementia.

Nancy's theme last night was shoulder rotation. Rotate and move feet and rotate while your dog's feet are still on the ground. Circle work in real life application. Boy were my dogs good. Makes it easier to stay awake. The run order goes like this. Border collie, border collie, border collie, border collie, border collie, Gustavo. Or Otterpop. My dogs take turns and trade off on the sequences. The weave poles go right up to the back of a tunnel and we have some tricky turns in there. I like that stuff. Bring it on.

Gustavo's mind stays sharp and he's running like a champ. I've been trying to have low expectations for him, and when he runs like this he blows my mind with his awesomeness. Why he can be like this one day, and cuckoo freakout the next, I don't think I'll ever know. But it's nights like this that keeps us keeping on at it.

Keeps us up there for almost 2 hours, until we drive back over the mountain and back to the beach. Sunroof open, all the windows down, bright lights on so as not to smash into deer or wayward cows, we fly back down the hill and back onto the freeway. The wrong way. Sometimes that happens. All the brain dead I held off to make it through class comes back at the freeway entrance when I can't remember if I live North or South. So much for the dementia prevention.

We always make it home, though. Sure wishing we had found a way to get that coffee in us on the way up. Next week, we'll remember.

Double yellow line orangey yellow-the new black that looks really good with black.

If you need a good house painter that doesn't charge too much, let me know. I will give you Dave's number. He and his guys did an awesome job, and wow, were they fast.


I will warn you though, he might try to talk you out of your color choices. Especially if you have black dogs. Apparently, Double Yellow Line Orangey Yellow is a contraband color in the house painting world. And it's rare for people to pick a color based on how nice it looks behind their dogs.


Dave says he learned a long time ago, though, that when a lady stands her ground on the color choice, he's got to back off. Smart call, Dave. Team Small Dog lives here. Viva black dogs! We gots to show them off and we needs brilliance and fabulosity to do so.


Our house may not have any room for agility equipment, but at least it's now the cutest one on the street. No more spooky ghosty peely haunted house vibe. Just bright!

Listmania: Dog Agility vs. Rockstars

Monkeys and Bears, revered animals in Indian mythology, demonstrate some things about agility.

We didn't really do any agility this weekend.


Really, we didn't do any agility this weekend.

The way we always take.

There is a way we always take right now, when I'm in a hurry, to get down to the beach. Through the park strip with the creek, where the squirrels and cats all lurk in the weeds.


We know all the neighbors, at least all the ones who are out at 7:00 in the morning. There's the guy who collects old refrigerators, surfboards, and chairs in his driveway, the 2 little old men in cute little hats with the really bad dogs, the people with the free range chickens and free range babies, and if we're early enough, the colorfully decorated leather jacket guy who sleeps on the bench by the deserted round house on stilts.

We like meeting new neighbors. Why, just today we met the deranged guy with the machete who was hiding something in the trunk of his car when I walked by. I said hi, and his eyeballs googled around in his skull when he looked at me. Welcome to the neighborhood!


Usually we run all the way down the path, and Otterpop pulls hard when we get to where we turn to go down our beach path. Sometimes I stop to let Ruby look for fish in the creek. I don't think there's any in there, but she always likes to look. When the guy with the one really big shoe comes limping down the path, binoculars in hand to watch the crows way up in the palm trees, I call her back up so we can go on.

Their lives are really, really hard.

A boring, sucky, lame-o walk in our neighborhood for dogs is walking along the path on West Cliff. Super boring views of the bay and leashes the whole way. I make them brisk walk, there's no balls out galloping or frisbees or doing anything interesting other than trotting placidly along by my side.

Bor-ing.

They don't care about admiring the views or looking for otters or watching surfers at Steamer's when there's a swell. They don't care about old ladies and teenage girls that ooh and aah at their cuteness and want to pet. Walking around the neighborhood on leashes is for the tourist dogs. They just want to go run on the beach or up in the forest.

Sometimes, I am just really mean to my dogs.

All you can eat salad bar.

Turns out, Ruby and Otterpop are crazy for Gustavo's veggie plate. He's not that big time into his new salad style diet, but the those two junior veganettes, hold the phone. The big favorite is raw, cold broccoli, carrot and tofu mixed up in a tupperware. Apparently more delicious than any carne asada morsel ever.

I can't tell if Gustavo's new diet and medicine is helping him or not. He seems a little spacier and more low energy, and his stary episodes haven't changed all that much, if anything, they're back to every night. It's only been a week though. Maybe just takes more time. I sure do want him to feel better. I hope the doctors are right about all this.

Otterpop and Ruby though, reaping the benefits. Everyone now gets a heaping scoop of uncooked vegetables and chilled tofu on their dinners. Working on impulse control behaviors and funny tricks in the house? Crunchy broccoli stalk hunks now best thing ever. Dogs are so weird. Next thing they're going to want feathers braided into their ear fur and pomegranate martinis.

One of those days when the Champion Plan seems like a really dumb idea and perhaps I try to enjoy something like decoupage instead.

We struggled at Power Paws last night. You would think, by now, we'd start to get it together. Most of the time I leave my class feeling humbled, and wondering when we're going to start getting better. Last night was no exception. One or two bonehead mistakes on every run. I'm not sure when perfection's supposed to kick in. I guess that's the whole journey part. Although I'm beginning to wonder if my learning curve looks more like squiggles drawn on an etch-a-sketch.

Sort of squiggles there and back and up and sideways and then you shake it and have to go back to square one and start all over again. I'd like my learning curve to just go upwards, but I suspect I'm the kind of person that is always going to be a little bit scribbly and outside of the lines.

My teacher every Tuesday night is Nancy Gyes. You probably know her. She's the equivalent of the Olympic coach for dog agility. Like how lucky am I to get help from some of the most awesome people in agility? Wouldn't you think I'd be starting to get it together by now, too?

Nancy sits there patiently while we make mistake after mistake. There's some very strong handlers in my class with great dogs, and everyone has to do something over. Nancy's a bit of a dog training genie, so besides showing us which arm to put where, she also has many magical dog training solutions for pretty much any training problem you toss at her. She has good ideas for Gustavo's meltdowns and Otterpop's reluctance to run in a ring when the frisbee has to wait outside.

Most of her advice involves practicing, practicing, and some more practicing. Consistent criteria. Repeated over and over again. Rewarding the right things at the right time in the right place. I think about how many early days I have this week, and how hard it's going to be to get out and do any practicing. Sure would be nice to have my own flat patch of dirt with enough room for a dogwalk and some poles. Ain't a gonna happen though.

The only solution is to set my alarm a little bit earlier, and see if we can go work on our plan, even for a few minutes, on the way out to work. And try to flatten out some of those squiggles and point them up towards the sky. All we can do is try.

Forest Ranger, Bright Lily and Frost.

A guy named Dave is painting our house. He doesn't exactly get me, there are subjects where we don't see eye to eye. Apparently it's uncommon to have the homeowner specify the exact same bright orangey yellow as the double yellow line on the highway as one of the colors. He suggested Lemongrass, or in a bold move, Bravado. When I held up my bright orange brush, he countered with a handful of colors named after places where Kennedys brunch on the vineyard.

The thing with Double Yellow Line, it really makes black dogs pop.


We had a nice practice in the sun yesterday. Gustavo had no fear of the teeter totter, and handled it with great speed and ease, even with me at quite a distance from it. He could do no wrong in his poles, and on the couple of hard entrances he missed, fearlessly came around and threw himself back in with gusto.

I was successful in freaking him out though, by having him do a set of 6 poles. The horror. I had set up a little euro jump drill, and thought, why not stick in those? Especially if he does still try a class or 2 at the AKC he's entered in a couple weeks from now, I have heard in Novice they favor 6 poles. Poor buddy. A training hole. He would get to the 6th pole and slam on the brakes. Look baffled. As if hallucinating. Like he lost the other poles.

I didn't mean to screw around with what he sees, it just happened that way. Ammonia particles floating across his brain or just poor training? Maybe a little of both. Easily fixed though, be rebooting with a little game of frisbee across the grass.


In our short debate about hue and value, I said to Dave, it's not really a matter of dark or light. I think I just see things different. Not much he could say to that. He scratched his beard, and will have figure out a way to get that color to work. Tint the primer, or go with the more expensive paint. Not the end of the world to have someone see it different. Just gotta figure out how to make it work.