Contrasts
So while this was happening …
The boys were out playing.
These two pictures pretty much describe our entire past week.
While Camm’s broken foot isn’t bothering her in the least, not a tiny iota, she is being drugged (by me) to prevent her from insisting upon doing all of her normal activities with her usual aplomb, vigor and joie de vie. The drugging reduces her enthusiasm about 20% at the most.
Luckily for me, the vet said that the splint and bandage looks good and remains in place. I didn’t tell him about all the activity she’s had that she shouldn’t be having, but he certainly witnessed her jumping on her hind legs to visit with the vet staff, running into the exam room, running out of the exam room, and probably saw her jump into The Living Room on Wheels. Nothing gets Camm down.
She has been highly suspicious of my activities though over the past week and gives me a thorough inspection when I return. No matter how many frozen kongs and new toys, it still apparently does not make up for the fact that I went hiking without her – taking Youke and Jasmine instead, and that this weekend I went to an agility trial without her – taking the boys instead.
Youke was fantastic this weekend. He was one knocked jump bar away from a perfect weekend in fact. What was most wonderful was not the Q rate (qualifying scores), but that fact that we were so in sync and that Youke was running happy, smooth and efficiently.
Shockingly, after adding up his points from this weekend, he’s now about 3/4th away from completing his C-ATCH 4 title. Apparently this is what happens when you have a consistent partner. Who knew??! Certainly not me before.
However, that will have to wait. This was Youke’s last CPE trial until the fall. I made a vow earlier in the year that if he qualified for CPE Nationals 2017 in the first half of 2016 I wouldn’t trial him at all this summer. We have one trial next weekend, a NADAC trial, and then nothing until September.
I’m keeping my promise.
On the other hand, Brady was in a grumpy mood Saturday, but ran perfectly, qualifying in all of his runs. On Sunday, he was in a great mood, but was a jerk on his first run of the day in jumpers.
This is Brady after he thought about his choices.
I was excited to run the jumpers course with Brady. It was a really fun course and also lent itself to the distance work I’m doing with him again. Except, Brady was pissed that I wasn’t running with him, instead was mainly walking. He exhibited this irritation by barking and spinning, and then by an attempted drive-by bite. Brady is especially adept at the drive-by bite.
Except I shut him down. Hard.
I immediately got pissed myself, informed him we were done, grabbed him by a bit of his ruff and out of the ring we walked. It may have looked harsh to some, but I’ve found now this is the only way I can get across to Brady that these drive-bys are totally not acceptable.
I was pissed too because I really wanted to run the course. At least I got to run it with Youke.
Some Baileys in my coffee helped me think about Brady’s choices too.
I guess Brady did consider his options when I left him in the car for a while, because when I went to get him for our next run he was happy, sassy, but very much willing to work with me. We then had our best run of the weekend, smoking a course in under 16 seconds.
It was kind of nice to be just hanging with the boys.
Youke isn’t opposed to hanging with his brother, but Youke sometimes wishes all the things could be just his.
Like this.
File this under Resource Guarding.
Convalescent Camm aka Clunky Foot Camm
Look closely. Despite the new plushy squeaky toy, Camm is not a happy camper, and it wasn’t because she was having her picture taken. We all know by now how much she enjoys being a supermodel.
Camm is not happy because she is a convalescent at present.
Please note Camm’s new accessory. Nope, not that sassy collar that I’d hoped she’d debut at last weekend’s agility show. (It is really fabulous and speaks volumes about her sass. Black and red, with red lipstick kisses and it says “kiss this.” Was that not designed with Camm in mind or what?)
Camm broke her #4 metatarsal in her left rear foot. Basically, she broke a bone in her foot. A weight-bearing bone no less.
While I’d like to tell you it was while she was doing something incredible, or while you might think it’s agility-related, neither is true. She broke it playing Ball. It was just a weird, freak thing where she slipped on grass racing to a Ball before Brady – even though she had a Ball in her mouth already.
Camm’s idea of playing Ball is to hold her own Ball in her mouth, but race out to get to the boy’s Balls before they do. Once there, she points out where the Ball is, just in case they didn’t already know (they almost always already know) and races back to me to be ready in case I’m about to launch another Ball. Camm plays this way because she is the ultimate uber bossy controlling Border Collie bitch.
During a break in Ball play, which must always be called by me because no one ever voluntarily decides there’s been enough Ball play, Camm goes around and gathers up the boys’ Balls and lies down with them in front of her nose. I’m convinced that she counts them. Camm doesn’t have a flock of sheep to control, so she controls all the Balls.
I actually witnessed the slip. But it’s not like that hadn’t ever happened before. She never yelped or cried out. In fact, she raced back to me. I think I threw Balls two more times and she was fine. We then headed off to walk in the woods for a while but I noticed her extreme sashaying walk. Camm has an extremely cute behind but doesn’t sashay. Bossy girls don’t have time for such nonsense. When she turned toward me and started forward on three legs, my heart sank.
Although she flinched later that night when I touched her left foot while trying to assess what the injury was, by the next day I’d convinced myself she’d ruptured her knee. That’s an all too common injury in dogs that often requires surgery and rehab. I know this because far too many of my friends have gone through it with their dogs.
Even the vet thought so when I took her in to see him the day after the injury. However, by then she was bearing weight on her leg. He figured her knee was torn, but not ruptured. Because she was being a little snippy, even though she was still taking cookies from him, he brought her into the exam room in the back. I braced myself for the news.
He came back three minutes later and confirmed it was indeed her foot and that she’d need to be fixated and put in a splint. He told me four to six weeks of recovery and probably light walks.
The vet that actually adjusted the bone and splinted her told me eight weeks in the splint and no walks. Basically, she advised me Camm couldn’t do anything except go out to relieve herself on-leash.
When she saw my crestfallen, horrified, thunderstruck, incredulous face, she casually mentioned that she could consider giving me more meds to keep her “calm.”
However, she also prescribed a pretty heavy dose of tramadol which she assured me would have a tranquilizing effect.
Camm came home very doped up and although she walked out of the vet’s office, I think it took every unbroken bone in her stoic body to do so. I had to carry her into the house.
Although she was a sad little doped up mess that night, when morning arrived, it was a different story.
Overnight, she had come to terms with her new “clunky foot” reality. She jumped off the bed, and once outside for her morning pee break, ran. She is not supposed to be doing any of these things. When I arrived home that day after walking clients, she leaped up on her hind legs as always to greet me and gave me a hug as she always does. When she though I wasn’t delivering her meds to her fast enough, she leaped up on her hind legs, placing front paws on the counter, to see what the hold up was. (Giving pills in my house is a joyous occasion. All the dogs know the word “pill” and race to get them. This is because pills get delivered with something super tasty.)
This is Camm on drugs.
This is Camm on not enough drugs.
I think I need a tranquilizer gun. Despite the addition of benadryl (or as I like to call them, “bennies”) to her tramadol, Camm still is perfectly capable, and very willing, of running around in the house, running after an errant bunny that happened by while she was on a potty break, soliciting play from Youke, bossing Brady around – okay, bossing everyone around, chasing after a fly in the house, going up and down stairs, getting on the bed … you get the picture.
It’s not like she’s a whirlwind of constant activity. She’s actually very good and very quiet in the house most of the time, like she usually is in the first place. Camm just has no concept of taking it easy and being slow. None. Zero. Nil. Zip. The minute I move, she’s in action. Camm’s response to my plea of “Camm, you can’t run!” is “Um, yes I can! See, I’m doing it now!”
It’s gonna be a long few months. I have ideas to keep her brain occupied and I’m going to ask for x-rays prior to eight weeks to see how the healing is progressing and to see if I can get her out of a permanent splint faster. Ideally, healing progresses quickly and I can start taking her swimming and maybe walking in a splint I can put on and take off myself before the eight weeks is up, but time will tell.
In the meantime, some dogs are pretty happy that annoying, bossy little sisters have to stay home and they get to play Ball without interference and go on hikes without someone running up their butt. And bonus! Pesky little sisters get new toys when they are convalescing that are really great to steal and play with yourself!
Napsters
All that sounds tremendously complex, and memorizing agility courses is actually great brain exercise, but most of the time I can walk a course and do all of the above in five minutes or less. I just find that for me personally, obsessing over how I’m going to handle a course does me no favors and I end up second guessing things. There have been times when I had time to walk a course once and handled the run far better than when I had multiple walk-throughs and plenty of time to analyze and plan. There’s also something that my Canadian friends have named as a “pirate run.” That’s when you don’t walk a course at all and run it. I rarely do it as Brady is a dog that needs (and deserves) some amount of precision (or I hear it … or get bitten). I’m proud to say though that I have done a few pirate runs – with Youke and Brady, and they went spectacularly. My favorite was when I got to an event much later than planned, saw they were running Brady’s height division and quickly asked a friend for a run-down of the course. I then watched one dog run it, asked the gate steward to move me and Brady down to the last dog of the height division, and ran to get him. We arrived, breathless, at the gate for our run with barely a second to spare and freakin’ nailed it. Still not sure how we accomplished that. The stars were aligned I guess.
Four-Dog Weekend
So guess what? Did an agility trial this weekend.
That was a bit of a joke. Like what else would I do on a long holiday weekend?
It’s been over a month since I last posted. Mostly that’s because I either didn’t have anything nice to say or I was super busy. The super busy part is pretty good. The not having anything nice to say part was an editorial decision on my part. While I wrote soooo many things in my head, many of them quite brilliant and bitingly hilarious – in the end, I opted to rein myself in. That was not the original intent of this blog, and it may or may not continue. Those who know me well may feel a twinge of sadness. Those who don’t, well, really you should thank me. Wouldn’t want to offend anyone. (That’s called sarcasm – I do it incredibly well.)
May really was a bitchy month. Mercury retrograde and all. So bitchy, I actually forgot about an important anniversary – the day I got kicked off the island, i.e. told I no longer fit in with the company’s vision going forward. That’s for a later post.
Okay, actually I forgot because I was at an agility trial that weekend. Youke getting his third championship title, C-ATCH 3, was definitely a good thing that happened in May.
Camm seemed to be looking for her big ribbon that weekend too. Told her it’ll happen someday, but at our present rate, someday may be a long way off.
This weekend, traveled to Salem, OR for a trial. Mainly because I really didn’t want to stick around at home and be all depressed that long holiday weekends are an inappropriate time to try to take all four of my dogs out for a hike. Therefore, 1.5 tanks of gas and 550.5 miles later…. there we were.
So glad we went. I did this particular trial last May too and had a lot of fun. But this year was better, For one, it wasn’t freezing cold like last year. It was surprisingly perfect! In fact, I dressed a bit too warmly, thanks to the incorrect weather forecast.
Jasmine would like to note it wasn’t all that perfect for her. For one thing, she is not feeling the part about being retired.
Jasmine hopped out of The Living Room on Wheels every chance she could, pretty convinced it was her turn to run. When she wasn’t doing that, she was barking. So much barking. On the one hand, it appears that at nearly 13 years of age she has decided to pull out her old dog license. On the other, Jasmine was pretty convincing about wanting to do agility. Made me wish that I entered her in a few runs this past weekend.
I took her into the arena finally on Sunday afternoon and she was pulling me to get into the building. She’d trialed there twice in the past, including last year at this time, so knew the layout. I brought her to the entrance of the ring to let her see the ring and equipment as the course builders were setting up a new course. Fort the first time that I can really recall, I saw her scanning the layout like Brady and Camm do before their runs. And then the best part ever happened for Jasmine – people! A long-time CPE judge was trialing this weekend and came up to say hello to Jasmine. Jasmine had trialed under her too many times to count and she’d told me in the past that she always liked watching Jasmine. And then other people came up to say hello to Jasmine and she was pretty much in heaven. For Jasmine, agility was about the people and making human friends. That was her reward. She only ever did it to try to please me.
So in addition to being a major pain in the ass with her barking, Jasmine also got to pee on a lot of things and over other dogs’ pee and got to knock over Brady and Youke a couple of times to get to the Ball first and show them she’s still All That. She narrowly missed knocking Camm over too, but the girls seem to have a mutual agreement about no actual contact during play time.
Youke was once again a steady rock star this weekend.
Somehow, Youke has become this fairly competent and happy little agility dog in the past six months. He even tugged inside the ring with me a few times this weekend while we were waiting for jumps to be set and/or the judge to finish instructions to the score table. Now, at home Youke likes to play a fierce game of tug, but he’s never been that into it at other places. Of course, Ball is still best.
Youke likes to have a few bites of string cheese after he does an agility run, but playing Ball is his biggest reward. He got to play a lot of Ball this weekend. He was awesome.Poor guy even put up with me sending him through the weaves three times in his Snooker run. He was a champ (he is the most perfect Snooker dog actually) and did perfect weaves all freakin’ weekend. Of course I stacked the deck in my favor by being “on-side” for all entries this weekend, including during a super awkward moment in Standard on Sunday where during a ill-timed front cross on my part into the weaves he ricocheted off my knees. Apparently that’s not a fault. Otherwise, he was smooth as butter in his runs and turned in super excellent performances in Standard on Saturday and Jumpers on Sunday in particular. In fact, Youke had a perfect day on Sunday, qualifying in all of his runs.
Wildcard on Saturday? Not so much. I was telling our agility instructor last week how Wildcard is my foe in CPE agility. I guess for many people it’s a game called Colors. Nope, me and my dogs usually excel at that game.
On Saturday, I bit it big time with all three dogs in Wildcard. Youke’s run was such a disaster that I just ended up in the middle of the ring stopping and just playing with him for a few seconds before continuing on. I’ve always though it was so funny how doing that, even when it’s absolutely the right thing to do, earns a elimination score or an “E.”. Seems like it should earn an “F” – for FUN!
Wildcard was actually not such a disaster for Brady. He ran the course perfectly. He just forgot that he’s supposed to stop on contact equipment and not leap off of it.
That was pretty the story of the weekend for Brady. Any course with contact equipment, and we didn’t qualify. He had a lot of fun, as did I, but judges don’t look favorably on the flair that Brady adds to doing contacts. I see some persuasive training in our future.
My highlight with Brady this weekend was his smoking and perfect Jumpers run Sunday. The speed! The tight turns! The discriminations! The lack of arguments at turning away from me! That latter part was huge. Every single course I walked this weekend I rehearsed over and over how to use my arm to “switch” Brady away on turns and to be deliberate and conscious of my body language. I’m just gonna say that he was deeply appreciative. It was like running agility with an agility instructor at my side. In reality, Brady is the best agility instructor I could have. He’s completely silent and perfect when I do things right. He’s loud, biting and ANGRY when my handling sucks.
Case in point – Snooker. Snooker is a game that makes Brady deeply angry. There is not always a way to run a Snooker course smoothly and efficiently. I’ve actually pulled Brady from a Snooker run when I cannot figure out a smooth way to do it. This weekend’s Snooker course was fun and the possibility of getting all 7s in the opening was ideal. Brady has beautiful weaves and the number 7 obstacle was the weaves. I saw a way to get two 7s, but the way to get three of them, would frustrate Brady. Therefore, I planned a moderate course that I could run with all three dogs and hopefully be successful. And I was successful with Youke and Brady. Not so much with Camm as she back-jumped a red jump on our way to weave #2. Because of that error with Camm, and since I ran Brady after Camm’s run, I over-handled that jump with Brady. And thus began an argument of epic proportions. I am so glad our Jumpers run after that was incredibly wonderful, because I might never have been forgiven. I’m pretty sure during Snooker that Brady’s eyes were glowing red. He was so pissed at me. He was not incorrect to be pissed, but a little forgiveness can go a long way. Just saying. I feel lucky I emerged from that run unscathed. Mostly because I’m really quick about jumping out of the way of the gnashing teeth.
When I brought him back to the car he looked like his brain had just exploded.
Brady: SNOOKER IS THE STUPIDEST FUCKING GAME! HATE IT! HATE IT! Gotta lie down and take a nap now.
Brady (after his excellent Jumpers run): THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN! Good handling mom! Let’s play some Ball and then I gotta lie down and take a nap.
And then there was Camm.
Camm: I not do stoopid stopped contacts this weekend Human Mom.
Me: Camm, that’s not how I trained you!
Camm: Guess what? I have a new invention! Called running contacts! Can do all the agility things super fast that way. I have a talk with Brady. He tell me to go for it!
Me: Camm, running contacts are not a new invention. And you can’t do them, even when you naturally stride them perfectly. I can’t be in position fast enough.
Camm: Too bad! I see you can’t try to stop me and train me here. I run super fast!
Me: Good thing our next trial is NADAC.
Youke is qualified for CPE Nationals in May 2017. I am still chipping away with Camm.
She started off the weekend with two gorgeous runs, including a perfect Standard run on Saturday that made the onlookers clap vigorously in approval. That might have gone to her head.
The rest of the weekend was all about going super fast. The faster the better. And stopping on contacts was not in Camm’s game plan. Nor, in some cases, were jump bars. Not to say that there wasn’t some really good stuff, because there most definitely were.
It occurred to me after Brady’s gorgeous Jumpers run that it takes a while to reach that level of perfection, and it’s not always promised. There was a time when those moments seemed like flashes of lightning from a quickly passing storm in the distance. Now it’s more like we’re often in the midst of that storm and the lighting strikes occur more frequently during the storm. I’m in the quick glimpses of lightning phase with Camm right now. I see the brilliant lightening bolts, ever so briefly, but I want to see the whole show lighting up the sky.
The cool thing is that I know it’ll happen. Eventually.
And even forces of nature have to rest.
It took a lot of flexibility, but somehow wiggled my way into bed.
Some Like It Hot
So, having a heatwave here in the Pacific Northwest.
Some 30 years ago this would’ve made me extremely happy. Of course then I lived in a place with winters that regularly reached temperatures of below zero degrees and grew up thinking all people pretty much had to tunnel out of their driveways by mid-winter due to the many feet of snow.
When I was in college, dozens of us would break out our teeny-weenie bikinis and line up outside in “The Quad” on our bath towels, slather baby oil on and bask in the few warm days we’d get on occasion in April and May.
Throughout my late teens and into my 20s, I spent all available time off in the summer sunbathing or swimming at the lake or ocean. I could usually be found at the beach, on a lawn chair at my mom’s or on a lawn chair at whatever residence I was at. One year I frequented the roof of my apartment building. I found that the flat portion of the roof and the tar-paper, combined with the aluminum flashing, really made one believe, if they closed their eyes really tight and didn’t look at the tar-paper, the metal flashing, and breathe in the noxious fumes of Portsmouth, NH , that they were in a tropical paradise.
Eventually I moved to a tiny sort of run-down little bungalow that I fell in love with. One of its best features was that it had a tiny little mostly fenced yard that offered a great deal of privacy from the large parking lot that adjoined it and the city that surrounded it. I’d spend hours on a lawn chair out there, reading books and surrounded by bamboo. The kind of bamboo that if you don’t regularly run it over with a lawnmower – a process that ideally should take place every two days – would take over the entire yard. I spent the time I wasn’t in a lawn chair those summers mowing down bamboo. I’m proud to say that eventually I won that battle. Then I bought the place, moved and rented it out and no one cared as much as I did.
The bamboo came back in full force. But I sold the house and the buyer eventually mowed it and the bamboo-ridden lawn over and made the entire property part of the even bigger parking lot.
My dangerous sunbathing ways stayed with me when I moved to South Florida. In fact, for a sun worshiper, it seemed as if I might be moving to paradise! That was until I found out that the space between Fort Lauderdale and Miami was essentially Long Island South. It’s really difficult for some of us Native New Englanders to embrace certain most virtually all Long Islanders.
Imagine my dismay when I discovered that instead of many hot Latin types, I was surrounded by pudgy retired Long Island types.
I’ll give them one thing though. They were tan. Very, very tan.
So, because I didn’t really end up caring all that much for South Florida, I worked on my tan, a lot. I look back at pictures from my few years there in the late ’90s and am shocked at how dark I was. It’s a wonder I didn’t become Magda.
I tan fairly easily, after the initial redness anyway and after the freckles all meld together, something I’ve always credited to having Jamaican and Native American genes. But the Scottish side is being favored a lot more these days.
Then I moved to the Pacific Northwest and froze for the first year. After I got used to it not being warm and tropical again, I learned to live with the nine months of drizzle and grey and temperatures that hovered between 45-60 all the time. I learned to live with it because the summers are spectacular.
My first summer in the Pacific Northwest, we experienced a three-day stretch of temperatures in the high 90s. I distinctly recall being outside on a lawn chair sunning my newly bright white body with my ex beside me and us exclaiming how it didn’t feel like it was that warm. We went to dinner with sort of friends (his maybe, not mine) who kept complaining about how humid it was. We exchanged glances. Humid? Clearly these people had no fucking clue as to what humidity was!
Now, some 15 years of living here later and I’m the one bitching that it’s too hot.
Truthfully, I still like warm, even hot, weather. It’d be great if all I really had on my agenda was to break out the lawn chair and crack a book open. Even better if I was stationed beside a large body of water that I could occasionally take a dip in and a tumbler of something liquid, icy and refreshing.
Sadly, I need to work and my present employment requires lots of time outside being active. Sometimes really active depending upon the activity level of the dog I’m with and its age. I am discovering though that unless they’re my dogs, the heat does seem to have a direct correlative effect on the energy level of most dogs, even puppies, and especially if they’re all black.
But honestly – and many of you may already have known I was going here – the main reasons I can’t really tolerate the real heat anymore is because of dog agility and hiking.
At least a lot of hiking can be done in shady green spots and lots of trails have water to splash in, even in the high of summer.
For most dogs, my own included, the ideal agility weather is probably when the temps hover between 40 and 55 degrees. Jasmine actually preferred when the weather was downright cold and loved doing agility in the winter. The other three definitely like it in the more moderate range, but Brady and Camm are so nutso-cookoo-crazy that they’ll play even if it hits the 90s and above. Youke pretty much calls it quits at above 90 and humours me at above 80.
When I first started off on this crazy agility thing, I had fantasies about the outdoors trials and how fabulous it’d be to be sunning myself and playing with my dog all at the same time and doing it of course in a super cute tank top and shorts.
Those fantasies died when 1) I realized how actually fucking hot it is in the direct sunlight for nine hours at a time 2) how fucking dehydrated one can get when being outside in the fucking direct sunlight for nine hours at a time 3) how fucking sweaty one gets when running around with a dog (now dogs) in the fucking direct sunlight for nine hours at a time 4) how much fucking dog hair sticks to sweaty bodies, and lastly 5) how not cool it looks to wear your cute shorts when blood is running down your leg from your fucking over-amped asshole dog that has no tolerance for handler errors and decides to make his point about your decision to employ that late blind cross by nipping you.
So now, my favorite seasons to play agility are spring and fall. Temperate seasons here are enjoyable, even with rain. And I don’t need to run with so many layers that I look like the Michelin Man – although perhaps safer with the aforementioned dog of little tolerance.
Looking Good, Being Good
I took Brady and Camm to a USDAA trial Saturday. I run USDAA maybe once, twice a year? It was also Camm’s USDAA debut.
It was a fun trial. The people I hang out with often determine for me if it is a fun trial or not. Yesterday was fun because, well, my dogs are usually fun to hang out with, but I also enjoyed hanging out and talking with the people I did. I think that some of the usual pressure cooker vibe at most of the USDAA trials I’ve been at seemed to be missing. It was nice.
Still, there was some of the vibe there. Brady and Camm both walked into the arena in the morning for height measurements and instantly became all googly-eyed.
It was a good day, but glad I’m home today just chillaxing with the dogs.
I ended up taking all four dogs to the trial. Youke and Jasmine just went for moral support. They were extremely supportive of the running around in the fields in the sun and playing ball portions of the day.
Brady and Camm had some great moments, and some not so great moments. Typical agility for us in many ways. I think the trial highlight for me was when the rails came off in Camm’s Steeplechase run and she went THROUGH the triple jump. Yup. That’s right. Not over it. Not around it. Through it. And not a single bar displaced.
That wee girl is amazing.
Another highlight, and a funny moment, at least to me, was when I got complimented on my well-behaved dogs.
Say what??!
I was walking all four back to The Living Room on Wheels after a play session in between runs. I had all four on leash as they have a tendency to race back to their vehicle, mainly to beat each other to the water bowl, and didn’t want them running into someone or another dog that I couldn’t see from my vantage point.
All four were walking with a loose leash, were not tangling each other up and were walking in a calm and relaxed manner. It was kind of an amazeballs moment.
Okay, it happens, but really, I just don’t expect that kind of thing.
A woman getting her dogs out of her vehicle near us shouted out her disbelief and pleasure at the miracle she was observing.
“Your dogs are so well-behaved! I could never do that! The leashes would get all tangled.”
She said some other stuff too, all very nice, but I really can’t remember because I didn’t until that moment quite realize what a beautiful moment it was and became dumbstruck.
I recovered though.
“They’re just being show offs. They’re not usually this good,” I said.
See, the thing about having really low expectations constantly is that you’re humbled and grateful for all the amazingly cool things that do happen, especially when it comes to one’s dogs.
So in addition to being pretty chill and not worrying about stuff like Steeplechase runs and cleaning the messy house, today I did the monthly switch out of the dogs’ collars.
Yes, it’s a thing, and it’s my thing.
In another moment of rare self-realization, I realized this morning when I put the fresh collars on the dogs that I have inadvertently conditioned the monthly collar changing as a super positive and fun thing.
“Time for new necklaces, puppers!” I called out as I swished the fresh ones about, tags jangling.
Dogs come into the kitchen and patiently wait as I remove last month’s collars. As usual, I see the moment of relief in Youke’s eyes as he thinks for a millisecond that he won’t have to wear a necklace at all. Also as usual, I see the flick of panic in Brady’s eyes as he thinks his necklace is being removed permanently. This is the difference between a dog that has always known a stable home that has spoiled him rotten, and a dog that lived an unstable and impermanent life in his early years.
I put Youke’s collar on him and as is my habit, wolf whistled at him and then exclaimed, “Look at that sexy new necklace!” Then I wolf whistled at him again.
Clearly, I’ve created some sort of positive association with the low slung out sexy wolf whistle.
Youke beamed at me and wiggled about. The other three started dancing around, trying to be the next for a “sexy necklace.”
I did the wolf whistle for each one and told them how excellent and sexy they all looked. In return, I got happy faces, wagging tails and jumping on me.
Weirdos.
They do look quite sexy though.
- I swear Brady is not playing with a sex toy in that first picture! It’s his “woofie cushion”and it apparently photographs rather suggestively.
Happy Birthday to My Puppy
Youke is eight years old as of today. So incredibly hard to believe my puppy is a senior. Well, in technical dog years I guess.
And I can’t honestly say he’s still a puppy, because he has always been a bit of an old soul. I always joke with him about how grown up he is.
Youke: I’ve always been a grown up.
This is pretty much true. Or at least since he was about six month old.
So, luckily for us all, it was a spectacularly beautiful day, so we celebrated with a party, had an uninvited guest, someone peed their pants and Youke had a special meal.
Youke was joined for his birthday celebration hike in the woods by his besties – Jasmine, Brady and Camm.
Of course, Balls were involved. What’s a birthday celebration without fun games?
We had the accommodations entirely to ourselves.
Clear blue skies overhead and lots of green.
Jasmine is Youke’s oldest friend. Literally and figuratively. He’s adored her since he first set sights on her when I unloaded him from the car. She took slightly longer to warm up to him. All of three days. Maybe the fact that he’d upchucked down the back of my shirt had something to do with it?
She is pretty special. It still startles me when I see how much white is on her face now. Despite that fact, Jasmine is definitely not a grown-up. I’m not sure she’ll ever be. She was on fire today, racing to steal balls from the two boys and then tossing them at my feet. It’s not like she likes to play Ball. She just wants to get them before the boys do. That pisses Brady off immensely, but he’s learned that he gets hit by Jasmine’s linebacker move if he fights for the ball. Much better to let her get it. Youke just patiently jumps out of the way when he sees her coming. Plus, half the time she just drops the ball halfway or doesn’t even pick it up at all.
Happy party guests.
Unfortunately, I was woefully unprepared for Youke’s celebration at home. I usually get them cupcakes or make a special meal.
Brady: Get pork chops.
Me: Brady, you always want pork chops.
Brady: Pork chops are good for all occasions.
Well, that may very well be, but I didn’t feel like stopping at the grocery store on the way home. I remembered that I had some frozen meatballs in the freezer, so figured that’d do.
Youke: But I’m hungry now.
Me: Don’t you want to wait for your meatballs?
Youke: I’m starving!! Can’t you see I’m wasting away???!!!
I went into the garage to get the dogs their kibble, figuring I’d just feed them a couple of meatballs apiece once they were heated.
I returned with a special, and uninvited guest.
I poured the last of the dog food bag into the smaller container I keep in the house and brought it back in. I scooped Youke his portion, and, as is our dinnertime tradition, told him to wait while I scooped everyone else’s portion. Typically, all the dogs must wait until I give them the go ahead. I’m not generally a control freak nazi about stuff like this, but it’s become sort of a game. Plus I enjoy the look of torture on Youke’s face as he is forced to wait to gulp down his meal.
So, after I scooped Youke’s portion, I moved to Camm’s bowl and scooped out her’s. Then I moved to Brady’s bowl, dipped the scoop back in the container, and ….
… Screamed like a girl! Somehow, I’d missed the fact that there was a mouse in the container of dog food.
I dropped the container to the floor with the scream. Miraculously, the container landed right side up and the mouse stayed inside, as did the food. Now, all the dogs were staring at me.
The mouse startled me, but I’m not really afraid of mice per se. I thought quickly and opened the patio door and scooped him/her outside.
I have a cat. But she’s 16 years old and clearly has retired from mousing. During this whole event, she was doing this:
This is pretty much was Satie does most of the time. It’s pretty rare these days that I call her by her real name, which is/was Satan.
Meantime, Youke had taken the opportunity to start eating, so I scooped Jasmine her dinner and let them eat.
Then I noticed a large amount of liquid on the floor. The floor is wood, but I could see there was a slight yellow tint to the nearly clear liquid. Someone had peed on the floor!
My best guess is that my scream startled Jasmine and she got scared and peed. They did drink a lot of water during today’s adventure.
Everyone did eventually get two meatballs and Youke got a special plate of spaghetti and meatballs with red meat sauce.
Cuz he’s special.
Youke, accompanied by someone else who thinks she’s pretty special.
Brady and Camm’s Excellent Canadian Adventure
My house is eerily quiet today. I guess running 10 yards a second does that.
Okay, turns out that while that probably happens in real life with my crew, it really did not on this weekend’s tunnelers course due to a mathematical miscalculation, but running a course in 15.6 seconds (Brady) and 16 seconds (Camm) is still pretty decent.
I love running fast dogs. It can be so incredibly frustrating at times when I cannot get the information needed out to my dogs in time, but it is ever so rewarding when things click.
The first run of the weekend was “Touch ‘n Go.” The courses consist only of contact obstacles – the a-frame and the dogwalk, and tunnels. It’s one of my favorite courses to run and for all four of my dogs, my obvious love of the courses has translated and they’ve all liked it a lot too. I’ve joked for years that with Jasmine it was mostly “touch” and not so much “go.” With Youke, that changed to very little “touch” and all “go.” Brady and Camm have given the game new meaning. They are both convinced the game should be all “go” and the “touch” part is relatively unimportant. That attitude has made touch ‘n go a hard one to qualify in for those two.
Both dogs ran the touch ‘n go course this weekend in 7 yards a second. As expected, Brady blew a contact, thus disqualifying him. Camm, due to her naturally gorgeous running contacts, actually qualified.
But wait! Camm doesn’t have running contacts. Camm does two on, two off.
Camm: “Pretty sure in Canada don’t have to do stoopid stopped contacts. Just go super fast.”
Me: “Not true Camm. You still have to do stopped contacts, even here in Canada.”
Thus, while Camm’s running contacts are very pretty and quite spectacular, I enforced the idea of two feet on the contact and two feet on the ground in her standard runs. All it took was showing her once. (Thank you NADAC for allowing training in the ring!) I went on to praise her lavishly for every stopped contact she did from then on at last weekend’s trial, which was every one.
Camm: “Nice to hear the nice things, but can we get back to running super fast now?”
I took Camm and Brady to Vancouver Island this past weekend for an agility trial. One of my favorite clubs puts on one of my favorite trials there. They are an excellent group of people and a lot of fun and I like to support their trials, which are very small. I especially appreciate how supportive everyone is of each others’ runs and how there is so much praise and cheering and positive comments for every single run. To me, it’s really how every agility trial should be.
Youke and Jasmine got left home sadly. I felt Youke needed a break from trialing and Jasmine is now retired from agility. (Although I may make an occasional exception for a CPE trial.)
Turns out that The Living Room on Wheels is quite spacious when traveling with only two dogs.
Brady has been up to Canada and this weekend’s trial site several times now. However, it was only the second time Camm has gone. It was hard to tell if she even really remembered the first time since it was only her third trial at the time and she was berserk. This was also the first time that just she and Brady traveled together for a trial.
Me: “Hey guys! Look, we’re in Canada now!”
Camm: “I didn’t know we was going to another country! I could hardly see anything since I was in my box. Why you not tell me we go to Canada?”
Turns out there were no issues. Camm is equally as comfortable at a hotel in Canada as she is in the states. She’s also equally bossy of her brother.
Camm: “I get the whole bed.”
However, Brady, feeling a bit pent up from the drive to Vancouver and then the ferry trip, decided it’d be a great idea to bounce up and off the bed and engage Camm in a game of “king of the bed,” complete with loud barking.
This is always a super fun game at home, but not so appropriate for a hotel, especially at 10 pm at night.
So after we played agility all day Saturday, I took the two dogs to a park that’s right on the beach. One of the reasons I love going to Vancouver Island is all of the great places to take the dogs and the fact that much of those places are leash-free.
This is why I’m not convinced Camm remembered going once before. She was beside herself with joy at this place.
Camm: “I love Canada! This place is so exciting.”
She raced around, up and down the beach and through the pieces of driftwood, all the time keeping an eye on me and making sure I noticed her springing gleefully through the air. Truthfully, Brady wasn’t much different. He just distinctly remembered all the places I threw the Ball the last time I was there with him and Youke and made sure I noticed him asking me to throw a Ball on this trip too. Of course, I obliged.
We saw several other dogs. We even saw dogs that Brady normally is very leery of, such as a bouncy standard poodle and a very large and blocky golden retriever. Mr. Friendly though was the perfect American ambassador, responding to their greetings in a calm and civilized manner and even returning wags. I made sure that Camm kept a Ball in her mouth when seeing other dogs as I didn’t want to see any snippish behavior from her, but even she was at ease when the huge blocky golden retriever came right up to her.
One of the key differences I always notice though when I go to this spot is that the people don’t allow their dogs to linger. The dogs get a quick meet and greet and then everyone calmly, but with purpose, moves on.
I’m not gonna lie. I like when people think I have such lovely and well behaved dogs. Which of course I don’t.
After our beach outing, on top of a long agility day, the dogs were just done. I fed them their dinner when we got back to the hotel Saturday night at about 8 pm and they passed out. In fact, Camm and Brady barely moved until 6 am Sunday morning when I took them out for a bathroom break.
We played more agility Sunday – including those two super fast and furious tunnelers runs – before wrapping up the trial and heading out for the long trip home via ferry and Living Room.
It was a good trial for me and the dogs. It included the usual moments of brilliance and the going down in flames parts that I’ve come to expect. Camm did much better than I had expected and showed how much she has matured since my previous trip with her there some 18 months ago. I received many kind and wonderful remarks on my little blaze of glory. Brady was, as almost always, a breathless, thrill-filled adventure ride.
It was a short trip as I had to work both the Friday before and the Monday after the weekend, but we were able to cram a lot of fun in that short space of time. It was also a bit like a vacation to just travel with two dogs instead of the usual four.
Until next time Canada.
A Year Ago…
I’ve become sort of addicted to those memory flashbacks from Facebook that tell you what you posted on the same day a year ago, two years ago, five years ago, and more.
Admittedly, some of the past posts seem silly and some are just plain confusing, never mind vague (vague-booking anyone?). However, some of these blasts from the past send me in fits of laughter, and others thrust me immediately back into that moment of pain, frustration or anger.
This week, mid-March, has been especially interesting. In the last few days I’ve been reminded of the wide and swinging pendulum that was my life at this time a year ago.
I didn’t quite know what to expect when I went back east a year ago for a work trip to the corporate office, but I’d seen the writing on the wall the prior September and knew the winds were a-changin’. When the week was over, I stood on a figurative precipice, pondering whether to leap or hang on by my fingertips.
One post nearly left me breathless as I recalled the despair and panic I felt sitting at Logan Airport in Boston awaiting my return flight home.
I’m not a person that is easily scared or intimidated, nor am I a person that often feels completely helpless or at a loss or that life is beyond my reach. I’ve always relied on my wits, or wit at times, my intelligence and my sense of humour, as well as knowing that the person I can most rely upon is myself. But like all of us, I’ve had events in my life that flat out knocked me down for a while. I guess the good thing is that I’ve never completely felt knocked out. Close maybe, but never quite.
For most of my life people have told me that I’m like a rock. I always had a bit of a laugh at that one, as I’ve often not felt like that. And rocks can crack. Still, life has taught me what I’m made of – and it’s much stronger than any rock – and one thing I don’t do is indulge in pity parties.
Last March was one of those close times. I sat in Logan Airport having a near panic attack and called one of my best friends. When I couldn’t get her, I called my youngest sister. Kerry has been on the receiving end now for the first news of two major shitstorm moments in my life. Last March was the second.
The good news is that while I was bawling my eyes out, in a very public place and without nearly the quality of kleenexes I needed, an idea was born. It was a crazy, ridiculous, completely irresponsible idea, and my baby sister was the only one at the time that fully endorsed it.
Once that crazy idea sprouted, it would not die. And the fact that it would not die sustained me for two more months of absolute shit. Every time some new and stupendously dumbass situation came up at work, that idea was my oasis in the desert and I would revisit the dream, turning it over and over again in my imagination and polishing it. By the time I lost my job in May of 2015, it was a tiny little jewel without a setting. Or a tiny little green sprout in a desert that had sucked me dry.
The idea would not fully spring up and become a tiny flower for six more months and I can’t quite say it’s fully blossomed. But it certain has the potential to be a vibrant and colorful flower.
I suppose that’s how most small businesses start.
So while I cringe a bit when I see those “on this day” reminders from a year ago, I am also reminded that there have been – and most likely will always be – moments of levity provided by my dogs. Like this one, which is from exactly a year ago today:
March 14, 2015
“Doing blind crosses are not for the faint of heart. Eventually, doing one is going to bite you in the ass. Or, get you bitten in the ass. Or maybe somewhere else …
Today’s trial highlight (and maybe the trial highlight of my agility career to date), was doing a blind cross at a tunnel as Camm aka Little Black Speeding Bullet was traveling at warp 9 through said tunnel, only to find the Little Black Bullet suddenly BETWEEN my legs. By the time my slow brain registered what had happened, she was already through my legs and speeding toward the next obstacle. But my body somehow registered the fact that 1) a little border collie was running between my legs out of a tunnel, 2) allowing for involuntary scream due to surprise and fear of stepping on little border collie, 3) little border collie may or may not have taken a swipe at my innermost thigh, and 4) agility spectators and people I will see at most future trials had erupted in laughter. Of course, not a single video or photo of the incident.”
9 to 5
Today was a 9 to 5 kinda day. But in a good way. Not in a “this cubicle is draining all the life energy out of me and I can feel my brain shrinking” kinda way.
And no, I have not traded in a cubicle or the four walls of my home office for this tree cave. Although seriously, how cool would it be to cram yourself into this space and pretend you’re a hobbit with a laptop? When I actually do get a laptop I’m gonna try it. I think it’ll be really super fun to shout out a hello to passersby and scare the crap out of them.
So it was a 9 to 5 day in that I started my day at 9 am with a vet appointment for Camm and ended it just shortly after 5 pm coming down Tiger Mountain in the rain with two of my dogs.
Camm went in this morning for her annual vaccines. She weighed in at a lean and mean 33 pounds. I laughed and told her she was fat.
Camm was not appreciative of the vet’s poking and prodding. In fact, while she patiently. but with increasing irritation bore having her ears turned inside out for the examination, she took great offense to having her lips lifted and fingers poking into her mouth. So much so that she issued a warning snap. The vet tried to make friends by feeding Camm lots of cookies. Camm ate them all, but was clearly peeved. Off she went to the examination room in the back and away from me. We all figured she might be a bit better. We all should’ve figured differently.
The vet came back out after a few minutes to tell me that while she’d given Camm her shots, she had chosen not to take a fecal sample as Camm was “upset” and was spitting out cookies.
I know Camm and I know what Camm does when she doesn’t want to do something or when there’s something she doesn’t like. Camm is also not a very forgiving dog and never forgets anything. Just ask our relationship counselor. Camm has never completely forgiven her for taking that hour’s time at a lesson last year to work directly with Camm on her start line stays. She actually now adores her instructor/relationship counselor and will give her kisses and hugs, but the minute she attempts to run Camm in any kind of drill, Camm turns suspicious and runs right back to me, peeking suspiciously at Andrea from behind my legs.
As soon as we departed the vet’s office, Camm had a lot to say on the brief car ride home. Needless to say, she was not impressed.
Camm: I’m perfect. Why I even need to go see doctor??
The vet on the other hand was impressed with Camm’s overall fitness. She also started to lecture me about how smart border collies are and how they need to do a job or learn tricks. I told her we do agility and hike a lot.
Silence.
After I brought Camm back home, she received the usual curious sniffs from everyone else. The reactions were hysterical and so true to each individual personality. Jasmine got a sniff and slunk off. Youke was very concerned and seemed to be asking Camm if she was okay. For his concerns, he got a smack across the face, then an invitation to play. Brady was downright impressed and got all wiggly. Brady, unlike everyone else, actually loves to go to the vet. He likes to flirt with all of his office lady friends.
After that, I went off to walk other people’s dogs for a few hours.
But because I haven’t put enough miles on this week with walking dogs, I opted to spend the rest of Friday afternoon walking my own dogs. (Insert eye roll.)
Actually, I decided it was a good day to wander about with my own dogs as it was about to rain and I knew all the fair weather folks of this past week out enjoying the unseasonably warm temperatures and sunny skies would be scurrying back inside. Also, they’d be off to happy hour and such and my version of happy hour is a late day Friday hike.
First, I took Youke and Brady since they are both sort of on restricted activity and not being allowed to play much Ball right now. Youke really thinks these leashed walks are beneath him. It’s true, he’s so good off leash that I hardly ever leash him up. But I think what really offends him is the fact that he’s not playing Ball.
Brady, on the other hand, was just over the top excited that he was at a place he’d never been to before. So many new things to sniff and to pee on!
Overall, it was a good time and we barely got rained on.
Please note that Brady has slack in his leash. Also note that Youke does not. Also note position of ears indicating irritated due to lack of Ball.
Note happy faces. This was right after I’d unleashed Youke for five minutes to play with Ball.
Returned home with the boys and told Jasmine and Camm it was their turn to go. So much loud barking. It’s a really good thing I like dogs with big personalities.
In a last minute decision, opted to take Jasmine and Camm to Tiger Mountain on one of my favorite short hikes. I figured the rain and late hour of the day would mean we wouldn’t run into anyone and I was right. By then it was coming down fairly steadily. Nonetheless, we had a lot of fun.
I tried to take some pictures, but the rain and the late hour, and the incredible wriggliness from all the fun, was not conducive to a spectacular photo shoot. Still, it’s pretty clear the girls enjoyed our girls night happy hour.
Z’OMG we’re on a tree!
Squirrel?! Where? Over there? Here?
I am the most smartest, beautiful, badasss and loudest border collie ever. I don’t need to see doctor. Ever.
All that jumping on and off trees and climbing up and down hillsides made me realize why my four-pack all have a six-pack.
YoBaCaRy 