Julie is having a Winter Agility Camp this weekend and I offered to help with the food in exchange for a chance to run the courses. It’s a good deal for both of us – notice I am presuming Julie will be happy with my work – I love to cook and don’t often have a chance to cook big batches of chili and pans of lasagne and have them eaten immediately by a group of hungry people, and Julie loves to plan courses and work with human/dog teams, but, I sense, shopping for food and cooking, not as much, and she doesn’t have to do that part of making this weekend work.
Poor Chico is going to have to sit this one out. He can come with me, and we can take nice walks at Julie’s, but he’s not supposed to jump or weave for at least another week, maybe longer. He’s not going to think this is a very good idea, but he’ll have to trust me.
And Julie is so nice, she’ll find another dog for me to run this weekend. Maybe one of hers, or maybe someone is bringing several dogs to camp and will share. I don’t know, and I don’t care. One of the holes on my agility experience cloth is running any dog besides Chico, so I welcome the experience. I don’t especially like how I got here – my guy laid up – but that injury is also gift if I look at it right.