We had a very interesting time in the ring yesterday. Moments of brilliance and moments of “WTF was that?” So sslllloooowwwww off the start line, getting faster and better during the runs. Kinda. Mostly. Three times at the weaves; first time Chico said “Weaves? I don’t see any weaves,” both the first and second time I asked him to weave, so we went on. Second and third times, he got a correct entry the first time, his speed built as he moved through them. But then there was an A-frame he couldn’t do and he just quit on me for ten seconds (seemed like a minute) and then he came back to me and finished rather well. He absolutely didn’t have a whole course in him. At the end of the day I was lingering for scores and the judge (Becky Dean from Seattle, Wa – nice lady, designed us some fun courses) walked by and looked down at Chico, smiled, shook her head, and said in a sort of indulgent parent tone of voice, “You’re a silly guy.”

I spent a lot of the drive home trying to figure out what my dog was telling me and I wonder if it is that to him, the start line at a trial looks like Monday morning. There must be a way to train that will make him think otherwise. We can work on that.

My guy did so well with other dogs all day. Jed, and that cattle dog, and the amazing Charlie (Charlie’s human is my inspiration – she’s 76 and still running a dog) – Chico got along with all of them, nose to nose and nose to tail. And he wanted to play with Jed. And the judge did notice us. Maybe not for our speed and power and control, but we stood out.

Now to take all the cardboard from the windows that have finally been installed at the house to the transfer station. And hope the rain they advertise does show up.