Walkin’ the ‘hood
I hardly ever walk my dogs around my neighborhood. Not that it’s not a nice place and all, but because I just prefer to take them out and about where there are more trees, more grass, apparently more critters, and definitely fewer people and cars.
Camm prefers places like this.
Today, they walked the’ hood.
I had to drop my jeep off for a fix early this morning. Apparently it’s not firing on all cylinders. Story of my life. When I get my repair bill, I’m sure I will not find this as amusing as I do at present.*
I wasn’t amused when my engine malfunction light went off in Canada last Sunday afternoon. But after looking up what the idiot light was telling me, I figured I’d be able to get back to the U.S. of A. And I did, and still managed to drive around a fair bit over the week, but momma ain’t taking any more chances before driving north again this weekend.
Brady came with me to drop the jeep off. I figured he’d be the first neighborhood walk victim as he’s extremely pokey about doing his business in the morning and new territory would be inspiring for him.
Brady was elated to be checking out the sights and sniffs of the neighborhood and proceeded to prance about, pissing on all the things and looking about for new human friends. All he needed to complete the picture was a plumed hat, but he has a plumed tail, so that worked.
All was well and quite exciting until a white panel truck drove by.
So, Brady has a “thing” against certain trucks, and especially against buses. Thank god we did not see any buses or large tractor-trailer trucks on the walk. Okay, well we did see a tractor-trailer, but it was parked and quiet as it was performing a delivery, and therefore was not offensive.
Anyway, the sight of the white panel truck driving by pissed Brady off. First he lunged when he saw it driving past, then he had to sharply and continually rebuke it’s very presence, and I had to hear all about it.
I thought it wise to just turn for the hill to go back up into my neighborhood and home after that, rather than to go around the long way and potentially encounter other trucks on their morning rounds.
Next out was Camm.
I already know that Camm is incredibly skittish with cars whizzing by and with unknown people walking about. Luckily, it’s a school day, so no worries about encountering children. Camm is convinced children need to be nipped to control their erratic movements and to stop their sudden motion. I have to confess that I don’t feel she’s always wrong on this.
I decided to take Camm into a quiet adjoining neighborhood area. The street used to dead end and there’s hardly any through traffic on it, but it still makes for a pleasant walk.
Camm was definitely sketched out on the first part of the walk, pulling, darting and weaving in front of me like a yo-yo, but managed to handle her nervousness and still waited politely to cross the street to the quiet area. Once we actually got to the neighborhood, she visibly relaxed and started sniffing all the things and looking curiously at the halloween decorations. She was even polite about the three delivery men swapping washing machines and dryers out in front of one house, although I also steered a wide path for her.
The quiet neighborhood road comes out to a pretty busy street in my town and while I considered taking Camm for a longer walk, the idea was quickly nipped in the bud when I saw her face as she saw the traffic whizzing by. So back we went, and up the hill to my house.
I took Jasmine and Youke together for the third walk of the morning. Youke, like Brady and Camm, is a bit skittish about traffic going by and the sudden noises and sights. On the other hand, Jasmine is a pro. Jasmine is the only one of the four that ever had any kind of neighborhood walks. I never took her a lot because she’s a strong dog and pulls mightily, but at least she doesn’t freak out about traffic much.
This time I opted to go further up the hill from my house into the neighborhood above me. Being a work day, it was quiet and there was not much in the way of traffic, but by that time the wind had picked up and was swirling leaves and branches around. Trash cans sitting on the curb started to shake, although none actually fell in our walking path.
Youke was clearly feeling nervous, but Jasmine was very much into the smells of the neighborhood and peeing on not as many things as Brady, but still a lot of things. Pretty much every yard had to get a good sniff. Maybe it’s because she was so curious about the yards and smells, but Jasmine also wasn’t pulling like she used to do back in the day. I suppose all those years of loose leash walking training might have helped.
Because Jasmine seemed to be enjoying herself, and Youke had the comfort of Jasmine with him, I decided to extend our walk and go around the entire neighborhood outside loop, back onto the main street of the town and back up the hill to my house.
If you are counting, as I was, this was the third time I walked up the hill to my house. This is also the hill that I see neighborhood runners using as some sort of training tool.
I was soaked through with sweat when I got back in the house for the third and final time this morning. I also came to the embarrassing realization that I had done more physically by 10 am than I normally do by noon. Um, so I’ll confess that normally I’m still sipping my coffee at 10 am.
Just not a morning person. Unless it’s an agility weekend. Or a hiking with friends that like to be up early day. Otherwise, noon seems like a decent time to actually get out and about. I sort of forgot this about myself until this past summer.
The dogs are now laying about napping. I’m sure a nap will probably be in my future too.
* I might just have the vapors and lay down for a long time. Just got the call from the mechanic about my jeep. Funny how once your vehicle turns over 100,000 miles, the repairs suddenly start. All fairly minor stuff, which is good, but all that crap adds up. Ugh.
Halloween Came Early
I had one of the most frightening experiences of my life today. I’m sure JaYoBaCa would concur. Or at least JaYoCa would. Brady missed out on the whole thing. Lucky him.
Since I worked nearly all day Wednesday on tweaking a web site and the poor dogs didn’t get to do anything but lie around and recover from the adventure of the day before, decided that today we’d enjoy the sunshine and go for a romp. Unfortunately, it’s hunting season here and some of our usual haunts are off-limits. But there are still plenty of places to go and took the dogs to a tried and true favorite today.
We’d been out for an hour or so and I decided to wander over to a trail we’d gone on earlier in the week. However, the plan was altered when I realized there was a person ahead of us with two dogs of her own. No worries. Opted to take a side trail that I hardly ever see anyone take and off we went.
The ball-obsessed dogs, Youke, Brady and Camm, were all being a bit pesky about me throwing the ball again. But because they’d already had a fair amount of ball time and I just wanted to walk quietly down the trail, I informed them that we were “on a break.” Always cracks me up how many phrases my dogs know. I think this comes from living with just one very consistent human.
Brady, as usual and after being informed of the break, sprinted ahead to explore. The other three stayed pretty close, with Youke frequently throwing me glances to see if I’d changed my mind about the ball.
I guess my attention span wandered. Next thing I know I see Jasmine off to the side of the path and very interested in something. Then I realized she was snapping continuously at the air. That means biting, buzzing insects.
Jasmine had stumbled across a wasp nest of some sort.
Jasmine is one of the most fearless dogs I’ve ever met under certain circumstances. She’ll shake like a leaf at her annual examination at the vet’s, but when it comes to bees, hornets or wasps, she’s a fighter. In the spring, Jasmine will poke her nose in flowers and bushes for the pure sake of finding and destroying bees.
Bees though are an entirely different critter from wasps. I’m not sure Jasmine realizes this.
To my utter horror, I saw that both of Jasmine’s shoulders were crawling with wasps. I sharply barked a “leave it” to her to get her away from the apparent nest, swatted at her quickly and told her to run with me. Youke and Camm had come back closer to see what the problem was. I shouted at them to “go.” Youke quickly realized what was going on. Camm, being ever so curious – or maybe nosy – came over to Jasmine to see what was going on.
Now I had three dogs that had wasps crawling on them.
I stopped them all and swatted wasps off them as best as I could. We ran a little way more down the trial, then I stopped and quickly felt them all over, hoping I too wouldn’t get stung.
At that point it seemed the wasps were off the dogs. I think the cooler temperatures, especially where we were, helped vastly. The wasps were sluggish.
Then I saw Youke limping. I called him over to me and I checked his body. I found one wasp, swatted it off, but Youke was terrified and holding his paw up. I was unable to tell if he’d been stung on the paw (as in maybe he stepped on one), on the foreleg or on his shoulder. The sad thing was that as I was checking him, he was trembling violently.
I brought him closer to me and held him, bringing my face to his and nestling his head under my neck. Youke’s heart was pounding. I don’t think I’ve ever heard or felt a heart beat so loudly in my life.
At that point I worried he’d been stung multiple times and would either have a reaction of some sort or really was in incredible pain.
Since the Benadryl was in the car, I got out arguably the best medicine in the world for a dog like Youke. The Ball.
Turns out that while scared, and no doubt stung as well, The Ball made almost everything better.
I was able to determine that Youke still had full use of his paw and leg. The Ball also helped him to calm down.
But I was still worried about Camm and Jasmine. Although Camm’s coat isn’t thick, a wasp could still get tangled in it and sting her multiple times. I checked her over again more thoroughly and did find one wasp, which I quickly swatted away, but got stung it the process.
Jasmine’s coat is short, but she has a dense undercoat. Sure enough, several wasps were trapped in her coat. I managed to get them off her without getting stung myself.
It’s unclear if either Jasmine or Camm were stung at all. While I believe getting stung was unavoidable, neither of the girls reacted as if they had been.
Since I wanted some time to pass to allow the angry wasps to calm down, we continued going down the trail, which unfortunately dead ends.
Meanwhile, Brady popped up ahead of us and wanted to play ball. He couldn’t seem to grasp why everyone, particularly Youke, was all freaked out.
We reached the dead-end portion and I again did a body check on all four dogs, including Brady. To my dismay, I again saw Jasmine at the side of the trail snapped at something flying in the air. I don’t know if it was another batch of wasps or maybe some lone one that had followed us or emerged from someone’s fur, but I called the dogs to me and told them to run.
We ran for a little bit, then continued walking very rapidly back up the trail. I realized that eventually we’d intersect with the original scene but just told myself we’d run like hell if we had to.
While I knew roughly where that spot was, Youke knew exactly where it was. He stopped suddenly, tail tucked up so far between his legs that he looked as if he never had one. I called to him and assured him it’d be okay. He paced for a few seconds and then decided to trust me and made a beeline (no pun intended) for me.
Even Brady, who had missed the entire frightening episode, was acting freaked out by then. I’m not sure four dogs have ever been happier to see their vehicle and get in it.
Because I know from a wasp attack at home a few years ago how adept wasps are at hiding in dogs’ fur, I again swept my hands over everyone’s body to make sure we had no passengers. All seemed clear.
I should’ve known better.
Almost to the exit off the highway to get home and all four dogs started getting very antsy. I immediately knew that I had an unauthorized and scary passenger.
Sure enough, a wasp flew up to the front. Not gonna lie. I didn’t want that little fucker stinging me, much less any of my dogs. But because I somehow inherited some weird calm under pressure thing from my mother, I managed to get off the highway, onto my exit and drive a little way, while at the same time keeping in my lane, and scrolling the windows up and down to encourage Mr. Nasty to fly off.
Just as I turned into a shopping area parking lot, he did just that.
I hopped out of the car to check on the dogs and to once again see if there were still wasps on them or in the jeep. Youke was shaking again, but at that point I just figured it’d be better to get home as quickly as I could.
I did yet another body check on everyone when we got back home. Seemed as though finally the wasps were gone.
Ordinarily, the dogs like to check out the yard for a bit when we get home. Not today. Everyone just wanted to get inside to safety.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to ever convince Youke to go on that trail again.
The October Whirlwind Tour
Busy. So busy. Doing agility with my dogs, recovering from doing agility with my dogs, starting a new venture, stressing about starting a new venture and fighting endless headaches. That last bit is literally, although it’s also somewhat figurative as well.
Not sleeping very well of late hasn’t made it any easier either.
Of course, there’s still been lot’s of hiking/walking time.
A friend asked where Brady was off to when I posted this on Facebook. He’s far off in the distance in this picture, laying down on the trail. Brady likes to observe. Part of observing is finding the right balance point, and then being very still and watching.
Not ready to discuss much of the new venture yet as still working on details. Quite excited about it though. A major new chapter in my life I think.
I will briefly discuss my new dentist. He’s really quite attractive.
After putting off going to the dentist for way too long due to the aggravating personalities and tactics employed by my prior dentist’s office, I faced down my reluctance and made an appointment. with a new dentist. Was convinced I was going to be severely chastised and would have to have some dramatic procedure. I was sort of right on the first, although the dentist and the staff were really very sweet about it, and nothing major on the latter. Did have to undergo a deep cleaning and saw two old fillings removed and replaced, The dentist also fixed two chipped teeth and told me I grind my teeth.
According to him, I am a really bad teeth grinder. This is interesting to me. Although not the first time a dental professional has told me this – I even have a mouth guard somewhere – no one involved in my life has ever told me I do this. Of course those that would know were usually deep into sleep or are currently unable to converse in human language. I suspect I actually grind during the day. I used to catch myself clenching my jaw tightly at work. I’m hoping that’s relaxed a lot in the past six months or so.
My attractive new dentist also left me with good-sized bruise on my mouth. I forgive him though because I’m a sucker for certain men with dark eyes and dark hair.
Apparently, most people at the agility trial this weekend just assumed I just had dirt on my face. Not sure what this says about the observational skills of the agility community.
And speaking of agility, currently nearing the end of the annual October Whirlwind Tour.
All of my favorite agility trials seem to fall in the month of October. I’ve entered my dogs in an agility trial every weekend this month.
I can’t possibly recount all of the agility fun so far this month, so instead will mention some of the highlights from this past weekend’s trial.
The Top Dog CPE trial in October is in among my top three favorite trials to attend. It’s also the trial where Youke had his debut. For those two reasons, I really, really wanted him to get a C-ATCH (fancy agility championship title) at the show last year. It wasn’t meant to be. So this year, when I saw that he could possibly earn his C-ATCH 2 at this trial, I was excited. Additionally, because I love this trial so much, I decided I’d bring Jasmine out of retirement and do a couple of runs with her.
Youke dd not get his C-ATCH 2 this weekend. He needed to get qualifying scores in his two standard runs and it didn’t happen. Despite a really nice run on Saturday, he opted for an off course tunnel entrance when I pushed too far on his line. On Sunday, I forgot about his new rule about no off-side weave entries. Of course, Youke qualified in nearly everything else. Oh well, I still had fun with him anyway and except for his obvious dislike of weaves, the pictures from the trial offer evidence that he was pretty happy too.
I haven’t been taking Jasmine to many agility shows with the other dogs since retiring her officially in late June. While I’m sure she gets bored and lonely staying at home, coming to a trial and not doing much of anything can be boring too and doesn’t seem fair to her. At least at this venue the weather is typically quite a bit cooler and more comfortable and I can let her run around with the other dogs to go sniff around and play.
The addition of Jasmine always adds a whole new dimension of energy to our dynamic. While I can take the other three out and about and everyone is generally calm and well-behaved, Jasmine just has a certain spark that changes everyone’s chemistry. Even at 12 years of age. no one brings the crazy like Jasmine can.
Youke, Brady and Camm spent a fair amount of ball playing time darting away from Jasmine when she she came barreling in at them. Jasmine doesn’t even like to play ball. But she does like to prove she’s all that with the younger dogs.
I entered Jasmine in two classes on Sunday. She was phenomenal. She ran one course in 21 seconds, and clean. She had the best run out of the four dogs in fact. She also proved she’s still my snooker queen with a lovely snooker run. Her fan club showed up too to give her scritches, cheese and lots of praise. I think Jasmine was a bit overwhelmed with all of the attention, although she was also clearly very happy about seeing her peeps.
I’ve missed running her. Maybe more so because there was a time when running with her was excruciatingly painful, and then it wasn’t. The photos from the trial show that she was clearing her same old jump height with ease and style. However, as much fun as it was to bring her out and do a few runs, I’m sticking with the retirement plan. I’m also now more seriously considering trying out nosework with her as a fun thing to do with just her and I. A friend at the trial is doing it with her older dog and convinced me it’s something to try. The thing that convinced me the most was that she, like I, was concerned it’d be boring to do, but she conveyed it’s been so much fun for her to watch her dog play at this new game. So, maybe in a few months when I feel that life has settled a bit more.
Camm was a spitfire, as always. Whereas the weekend before we were hugely successful from a qualifying standpoint, this weekend we were not. Yet it felt like we were. A large part of that is that we’ve gained huge strides in our teamwork this month. About six weeks ago I was growing more frustrated and thinking that I needed to take a break with her. Then I calmly evaluated where we were and realized progress is often best made in small steps. So I once again put myself in the mode of working with her on one thing at a time at each trial. What a difference! I now have a dog with a decent start line stay and a dog that is much more willing to put her own frustrations aside and work with me fairly – as in no snipping. Camm and I are still very much a team in progress, and there’s still some very ugly stuff, but I’ll take full responsibility as I simply need to trust her more and be the handler she needs. I’ve discovered in the past few weeks that she is incredibly talented and has the potential to be even more of a powerhouse than Brady.
Brady provided me with some of my favorite highlights from the weekend. We did well all weekend, but he had a flawless run in jumpers and he earned not only a qualifying score in snooker, but a first place score too.But more than this, each of those two runs had memorable moments.
I’m pretty pleased that Brady and I as a team are presently very much “on.” It feels really, really good and very, very special. Still, an adrenaline-filled moment (i.e. fear, also known as deer in the headlights), is completing a front cross just as your intense locomotive of a red dog comes flying out of a tunnel and through a tire straight at you, and he has absolutely no worries that you might be in his way. That happened during our jumpers run. I’m pretty proud of myself that my execution was fairly flawless too.
The memorable moment in snooker wasn’t that I figured out a smooth, flowing path for Brady to run or that we executed it well, it was the finish to the table.
Brady does not like the table in agility. The table is used to stop the game or to temporarily halt the run. Personally, I feel his pain. I think the table is pretty stupid too. Because Brady is a dog that love the agility game and loves to run – he’d love if the courses had about twice as many obstacles to run – we frequently have arguments about getting on the table. Sunday’s snooker run was no exception. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that the argument only lasted for five seconds or so (an eternity in agility). Two weeks ago, Brady raced around and around in a tunnel, coming out to bark at me in the course of the circles, in order to avoid getting on the table. That maneuver was a crowd favorite, eliciting much laughter and more than a few cheers when he finally agreed to step on the table.
I felt a tiny bit of redemption when I saw other dogs engaging in similar behavior, especially several border collies, although none did it with quite the flair Brady has,
I have four days now to recover from this weekend before the almost final stop of the October Whirlwind Tour.
Random Wednesday Rambling
Another day of rambling about. I’m enjoying these lovely early fall days of just wandering, exploring faint animal paths and just contemplating life.
Meanwhile, the dogs are enjoying the endless sniffing. Jasmine is also enjoying the sometimes finding of dead things.
No pictures, because it was uber gross, but Jasmine began crunching on something she found on our walk today. When I saw how disgustingly icky it was, I asked her to drop it. She had to think long and hard about it, but eventually she did. It was supremely revolting. I picked it up with the chukka ball stick to examine it. I admittedly sometimes find disgusting things interesting. After much looking, I realized it was a very messed up bunny head. The two front teeth were what finally gave it away.
Youke found something delightful to roll in. Often, my dogs’ ideas of what smells delightful and mine are not shared. However, Youke really did roll in something rather pleasant-smelling. If you like wild, woodsy, slightly musky smells that is. Hey, at least it’s not the stank that so many of my friends’ dogs decide to permeate within their fur.
Brady likes to run on ahead, but lately has been very good about waiting for the rest of us up a little ways. Sometimes though it’s a bit eery to go around a bend and find him in a down and staring intently at us.
Since it was such a gorgeous afternoon, we meandered down some trace paths left by the various woodland critters. And there really is a path here.
Camm was rewarded for posing for a picture exactly two times with a ball earlier this summer. Guess who now thinks she’s a supermodel? It’s amusing actually. I whip out the camera and she plants herself in front of me with her trademark smile and sparkly eyes. I guess I need to whip out some liver for Jasmine. Or maybe a bunny head.
Enjoying it all while we still can. Endless summer will be ending soon.
They Say It’s Your Birthday
“Say what? It’s my birthday? I’m 12??!!!”
Yup. Today is Jasmine’s designated 12th birthday and the start of her 13th year. The date also marks her 11th year with me and the start of the 12th.
Pretty hard to believe. Not sure how she got to be a goofy almost-puppy to a majestic grand lady.
Okay. That last part isn’t really true. Not even close to true. I’m not sure how many 12 year-old dogs go around doing somersaults and making wookie noises.
Because Jasmine truly is a dog that prefers to be in the midst of the chaos, both causing it and participating in it, I opted not to do a special day with just her, but instead chose to take everyone out together for a birthday adventure. She probably would’ve been just fine with her bestie, Youke, by her side. But Camm thinks everything is about her, so naturally she had to come too. And there’s no sense leaving Brady out of the fun.
It was the right decision. The first thing Jasmine did when we reached our destination and I started throwing the ball for the other three was make it very clear that she was participating in today’s game. Not only was she participating, but she was catching all the balls and running down anyone that even thought about trying to get to a ball before she did.
Girl’s still got it.
Thanks to a helpful suggestion from Brady, pork chops are on the menu for Jasmine’s dinner tonight. Brady only made this helpful suggestion as pork chops are his favorite and he expects to get one too. Camm, who has been intently watching all of the special petting and scruffing that Jasmine is getting today, demands that she also be given a pork chop. Youke, who is always convinced I’m starving him, will demand one as well. Which means that Jasmine will probably get two.
You only get to be 12 once.
Of course the day didn’t just include playing with Ball. Ball is not really Jasmine’s thing. Exploring is Jasmine’s thing, so we did a few hours of that.
I said to a friend the other day that I keep waiting for the day when Jasmine slows down a bit. In truth, she has. A little bit. However, as much as she still often pushes my buttons and is the dog mostly likely to drive me nuts, I really wouldn’t want it any other way. As has hit way too close lately, someday I won’t get to be exasperated with her.
Happy birthday Jasmine K. Vitch, Fruity Loops Nut Cake.
An Honest Answer
Today was a glorious late summer day. Technically it was a glorious early fall day, but it felt a lot like summer to me.
Today was also Brady’s special day.
(That’s Brady motoring out to retrieve his ball at the lake.)
Brady had a massage appointment this morning with Mr. Bob. Despite his suspicion about the whole massage thing and touching of so many areas that he typically prefers to keep private during his first appointment earlier this year, Brady has now become quite fond of Mr. Bob and all of his touching. I especially love when his eyes glaze over and he becomes all floppy and loose. Mr. Bob is very good. I watched as Brady started off very tense this morning, exhibiting some tenderness in his right forearm and wrist. He tried to flip around a few times, but eventually gave in to the good feelings. Apparently it was also a very good feeling to have his tight Achilles tendons on both sides worked.
I don’t do any formal conditioning with my dogs and have never jumped on the agility bandwagon of regular chiro visits and whatnot. My dogs’ conditioning work-outs consist of all the running, trotting, jumping, swimming, crawling and climbing they do in our everyday life and nearly daily adventures.
However, after Brady strained a wrist earlier this year and upon the suggestion of my relationship therapist i.e. agility instructor, I now take Brady and Youke to Mr. Bob roughly every other month to get loosened up. Apparently being a musclebound super-dog is not necessarily ideal. Not ideal maybe, but I still love running my hands over those tight, lean strong muscles. Loose, floppy-muscled dogs need not apply here. Or they get with the program fast.
After Brady’s massage was done, I decided to add to the good vibrations and take him on his own private one-on-one adventure with me.
I adore my dogs and I love the craziness when they’re all together. I’m fascinated by the interactions and their antics just plain make me laugh. That said, I also enjoy having some special one-on-one interactions with them and suspect they feel like it’s a special treat too. So, although I’m one of the laziest humans on this planet, I try to allow time for those special one-on-one interactions with each on a regular basis.
Therefore, I took Brady to the beach. Specifically to a nearby big lake that I’m very lucky to live near. The lake also has a nearby state park that includes some nice trails to walk on and big fields to explore.
Brady was beside himself with excitement. I love taking the dogs to new places or places they haven’t been in a while. Today, we came in on a trail that I don’t think Brady has ever been on before. So many things to sniff! So many things to pee on!
As we headed toward the lake itself for a swim, we encountered a man and his dog. His extremely large dog.
I saw the man and dog well before Brady did. He was too busy sniffing stuff and had his head in the bushes. I leashed him up as his head was buried in a pile of dried up blackberries and as he was standing three-legged over a hill of grass. The first sight Brady had was of the man and the dog’s rear end.
We were walking at a rapid pace – because the swimming portion of the day was about to ensue – and were quickly gaining on the man and what I thought at first was a really large, probably elderly, golden retriever, given its own slow pace. Then the dog realized we were behind it and glanced back. it was a leonberger. They are massive dogs.
(Random leonberger photo from the internet.)
Also, not the type of dog that Brady is especially fond of.
When the trail dumped us out at a clearing just before the path to the lake, the man glanced back at me and asked if my dog was a boy or girl.
“A boy,” I replied.
“Is he friendly?” he asked.
“Not particularly,” I drawled out in a sing-song voice.
The man was quiet for a second. Then he turned to the left with his dog, away from us.
“I like your honesty,” he replied.
Brady and I walked on and eventually reached the lake. Brady pretty much had a perfect day of hiking his leg on many, many things, smelling all the smells, pouncing on mole hills and swimming so much that when I saw how slow he was finally retrieving his ball I knew it was time to go.
And I kept thinking about that man and his reply. The brief interchange just makes me laugh. Something about it tickles me. I did give an honest answer to his question. Maybe it was the way I phrased the response that gave him pause. The response was not all that different from the way I usually respond when asked the similar question. I admit I usually respond in a somewhat lackadaisical manner these days as I learned two things some time ago if I responded in a more strident tone. The first, and most important, is that if I don’t keep my entire tone and posture relaxed, my dogs pick up on the tension. The second is that people also – perhaps somewhat ironically – respond far better to the more relaxed approach.
I like being honest about things, but sometimes it’s all in how you say it.
The Mad Dash
I think I logged about 25 miles last week. That’s dog miles. Distance walked or half-jogged with the dogs.
I don’t wear a pedometer or any of the fancy gadgets that are essentially the same thing, so my guesstimate is based on known mileage of some of the areas I hiked last week. Then again, it’s hard to calculate the numerous side trails taken. Plus, hiking with friends that do possess fancy gadgets has taught me I seriously underestimate my distance.
Being dogs, JaYoBaCa at least doubled that, if not tripled it. I read somewhere a long time ago that if off leash, a dog will triple the distance a human walks while out hiking. I’ve no idea if this is true and I don’t have a source to quote. I’m sure I could google it, but I’m too lazy.
That 25 miles or so does not include ordinary everyday sort of stuff and doesn’t include the agility weekend miles logged.
I log a lot of distance during agility trials. I typically park away from arenas since I keep the dogs in the car for the most part and like them to have a fairly quiet area. I also like to find a shady place to park. For some unknown and slightly annoying reason, virtually no place I’ve ever done agility at has shady parking nearby. I suppose that this might be one of those blessing in disguise kind of things.
I also run at least two dogs at trials typically, and more like three most times. That’s a lot of running back and forth to get dogs. Note to self, in the future, seriously consider getting a smaller dog so as not to have so many in the same height group. But that would mean that I’d have to like small dogs more than I do. Hmmm.
When I was running Jasmine, I had three dogs all in the same height class. Another good reason for retiring her.
I only trialed one day this past weekend and ran three dogs. It seemed fairly easy physically, but that was only due to the aforementioned 25 miles.
At least at this past trial I only had three classes where the dogs ran in the same class. Please note the hint of sarcasm.
Every agility trial has a posted running order at the entry gate into the ring. Competitors are expected to adhere to that running order for the most part. Those of us competing with multiple dogs are allowed some latitude in rearranging the gate sheet to accommodate our need to get the aforementioned multiple dogs shuffled and into the ring in some reasonable order that still allows for the competitor to not drop dead from a heart attack getting there.
Interestingly, the majority of people running multiple dogs, like myself, choose to park in the back forty somewhere. We are the annoying people who gate stewards – the people in charge of managing the running order and getting people into the ring efficiently so the trial can move in a timely manner – love to hate. They hate us because we literally show up, often huffing and puffing, at the last second. But we are almost always there on time and in running order, magically appearing out of the dust and usually just out of peripheral sight of the gate steward.
“Youke! I’m looking for Youke! He’s the next dog in!” That is often shouted at full volume with just a hint of panic or anger in the gate steward’s voice, the latter contingent upon the gate steward’s experience.
“We’re right here.” This is always stated fairly quietly and calmly, either because there is no need to waste additional breath that might be needed to actually breathe or because one arrived with time to spare and has actually been hanging out in the holding area for a minute or so – always unbeknownst to the poor gate steward.
One of my favorite tasks to perform at an agility show is actually being a gate steward. I love it because it indulges my inner bossiness and need to yell at people. And I confess that I love those people who run with multiple dogs and just magically appear when they’re supposed to.
See, we all seem to develop some super magical sense of timing that many people running just one dog, that hang out in the holding area for 10 minutes or longer at a time to “be ready,” but still cannot seem to get their asses in the ring before the previous dog has already exited, wasting valuable time that everyone loves to complain about when it’s 5 pm and the trial hasn’t ended yet, cannot seem to comprehend.
Still, that magic comes at a bit of a physical cost.
I enjoy a good challenge and thrive on an adrenaline rush. I got both at this trial when I saw I had six dogs between each of mine.
Keep in mind that agility is mainly a game of speed. Brady had a run this week that was under 16 seconds.
In order to magically appear at the gate on time and enter the ring in a timely manner, I first must prepare myself mentally. That starts with counting out how many dogs are between mine and quickly, and very un-mathematically calculating the time for each dog to run the course, depending on the type of course. Naturally, I usually have my three dogs entered in the class that runs the fastest or has the least number of obstacles to perform. That quick calculation translates into a very unscientific, “it’ll be okay to walk very quickly up to the car” or “a jog to the car will get me back and forth in time” to “jesus h, christ, I better fucking run my ass to the car to get back on time.”
These are all very good things as it starts my heart racing before I actually have to do the racing part.
This past Sunday, Brady was usually the fifth dog in the run order. No problem. A quick walk or slight jog outside the perimeter of the arena, up the hill and across the parking lot to my vehicle and then back down the hill and around the arena perimeter got us there in plenty of time, usually with adequate time for Brady to pee on many things.
The real fun began when Brady’s run was over and then I had to run Youke and Camm.
Since I believe strongly in rewarding my dogs for playing agility with me by playing with them, but currently run three dogs and don’t usually have a lot of time between runs, I’ve perfected The Running Tug Game for Brady and Camm, both of whom enjoy playing a game of tug after runs. So, on Sunday, after Brady finished his runs – all of which were super fabulous this weekend – I dashed out of the ring, grabbed the tug toy I’d left in my chair ringside and ran up the hill, with Brady beside me and tugging on his toy as we ran.back to the car. Then I grabbed Youke and ran back down the hill to the arena to get to the ring for his turn. Youke is not super big on playing tug outside of the living room. Therefore, when we run back to the car after his run, I promise him a game of ball and I toss it back and forth for 30 seconds or so before loading him back up and snatching Camm for her turn.
Youke and Camm do not have time to pee on many things. I’m pretty happy that neither is particularly interested in doing that.
My friends with fancy gadgets tell me that they log a lot of miles at agility trials between running their dogs, going back and forth between arena and vehicle and volunteering at trials as ringside workers.
I’ve decided that while curious about my own mileage, I don’t really need to know. That way, I can’t try to rationalize eating any more cookies at trials than I already do.
The Dog is What Matters
I enjoy the Qs as much as any competitor, but quite some time ago I realized that’s not really why I do agility. I enjoy the camaraderie of the people I’ve met through agility and the friends I’ve made. I enjoy testing my training and skills, my own and my dogs’. I like the physicality of it and I love the mental aspect of the game. But mainly I love playing with my dogs and love the bond that playing agility has given me with each one of them.
I chose to play agility, not my dogs. I try to keep that in mind. Luckily, the dogs enjoy, to varying degrees, playing agility with me. They’re also all dogs that deeply want to please me. Yet, they don’t do agility with me just because they want to please me. They play agility with me because there’s something in it for them too. It’s up to each dog/handler team to find that special something that makes it worthwhile, especially for the dog.
For me personally, pretty much the worse day in an agility competition is still a better day than normal. Usually. But I really like to play with my dogs and I can usually find a way to have fun even when we have no Qs. And believe me, my dogs and I have had a whole lot of practice at that last part.
Apparently for many agility competitors, the worse day is a low qualifying score rate (Q-rate) or a zero Q-rate.
Seriously?
Seriously.
It is weekends like this past one when my head isn’t really in the game itself as much as it should be and then to be confronted with the news of friends with dogs with severe illnesses or injuries and seeing, through, tears, two retirement runs, that really put things like the importance of a Q-rate into perspective for me.
The dog is what’s important.
Fancy!
Yeah, so not talking about fancy-pants agility moves here or fancy-pants ass passes or even fancy agility. Nothing about agility at all. Just talking about being fancy. As in dressing up a little.
“Human-Mommy, I like your fancy outfit.” (Ignore the dirty floor.)
I haven’t worked in an actual office for over 15 years. I left the country club scene 7.5 years ago. Or rather, my ex got custody of the country club scene. I didn’t fight him for it. I knew it wasn’t for me when no one saw the sly humour in my ’50s style cocktail dress in a martini print. I moved to the greater Seattle area a decade and a half ago. Seattle is known for its plentiful fleece. I rarely date, and when I do, men immediately sense that I’m the kind of woman who enjoys a good burger and fries over lobster bisque.
Which is all to say that I rarely dress up or even wear make-up.
I purged all of my fancy suits several years ago from my closet. Another purge saw me give away all of my fancy cocktail and party dresses. I still need to do a lot more purging, but the former fashionista in me bravely hangs on to the remaining dresses, skirts and pretty blouses. Considering that the only catalogs that still come to my house consist of a regular rotation of Eddie Bauer, Patagonia, REI and Merrell really, I need to do further purging.
In January, I cleaned out an entire closet filled with fancy and pretty shoes, most of them three-inch heels. See, not only was I a clothes horse, but I was an Imelda too. I’m not even going to explain that one. You either get it or you don’t. Yup, a few tears leaked out on that one as I gently held each pair for a few last precious seconds.
But occasionally, I like to make myself feel good, tell myself I still got it (a little) and wear make-up and put on a skirt.
Okay, make-up only consists of mascara and a stroke of eyeliner, but it’s far beyond what I usually do. Nothing.
Today’s “fancy” outfit was comprised of a skort, a slightly fancy tee shirt and sandals. Tevas though. Because I wouldn’t want to shock myself.
The grand occasion for this change from the usual not-fancy tee shirt and cargo pants was a trip to the bank and a few other mundane errands. In a pleasant surprise, I ended up doing lunch with the friend I met at the bank. Okay, it was at a diner, the sort of place where you look around for Flo slinging hash and filling up umpteen cups of bitter bad coffee, but it was a legitimate outing.
The looks of awe and surprise on my dogs’ faces about my outfit were hysterical.
“Aw Human Mommy! You look very fancy today,” came from Camm, who was clearly a bit nervous and stressed about the change and proceeded to seek reassurance by jumping on me.
Ah, one slightly dirty paw print to the fancy tee shirt. Not to worry. it was easily rectified by the addition of a light cardigan.
Brady took the opportunity to tell me how good I smelled by sticking his head under my skort.
“Momma, you smell so fresh and nice today. And nice to look under your skirt-thing.”
Youke was just slightly freaked out. softly wagging, but keeping at a bit of a distance.
“Mom, I see you’re fancy today. Are you leaving me?”
Only Jasmine appeared nonplussed. But then again, she was around during the country club years.
YoBaCaRy 