It was only about 20 degrees when Chico and I headed out for a recent walk. The sky was blue, almost painfully bright, there was frost on the grass – it was exhilarating.
It’s such a gift to live in this beautiful place.
It was only about 20 degrees when Chico and I headed out for a recent walk. The sky was blue, almost painfully bright, there was frost on the grass – it was exhilarating.
It’s such a gift to live in this beautiful place.
Chiso and I had another chance to walk at the Bellamy Preserve the other day. A bit later in the afternoon this time, we saw the sunset. It was a beauty:
And my handsome boy looked good in silhouette.
It’s always such a treat to find a few acres where Chico can run unfettered. I like the technique of looking for green spots on the map. We’re headed for California again this winter, I’ll report on any successes as we travel and apply the ‘green spot principle.’
I was wandering around the interwebs last night and found a year old piece written by an agility blogger for a themed writing day on backyard training.
This writer addresses training her dogs outside the ring, the arena, the backyard – she describes the real life situations she uses to simulate the distractions of agility trials.
I love the idea about teaching your dog to play in stressful situations.
Read it here.
The first night Chico came to my house, almost four years ago, he hopped up on the couch, and I dragged him off and made it clear that I wasn’t going to have the dog on the furniture. Or my bed.
But things change and it took about six months before I invited him up on the bed at night, and not much longer before I revised my policy on the couch. It started to sound like fun to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. But Chico would never get up on the couch with me and settle in. And really, who can blame him, it could have been a trick.
A few months ago, I got a new-to-me couch from my family and the other night I got Chico up there for a while and gave him a nice treat while he lay next to me.
The following morning, I woke up and he wasn’t on the bed. And he wasn’t on the floor of my room, not on either side of the bed. There was no Chico on the rug in the office, another place he finds agreeable. I went down the stairs, glanced at his bed – no Chico.
I finally found him, sacked out on the couch, so fast asleep that he didn’t wake up until I sat next to him and started to pet him. Then he looked, I’ll suggest, a bit sheepish, but happy.
Wow, I just checked my stats and Chico has readers all over the world. Yay! How nice that our story resonates all over the planet. Love ya readers!
Last Saturday I had cause to go down to Portsmouth, a good hour away from home. We’d spent the majority of the previous day in the car, going for a visit to the (four rings of!) agility at a big dog show event in Springfield, Mass called the Thanksgiving Cluster. There’s breed classes, there’s obedience, there’s agility and there’s (probably) thousands of dogs. Even though we didn’t compete, we went to have a look ’round. An hour of that wore Chico right out.
Anyhow, back to the story I started with. Once I had done my business in Portsmouth, I took out my stupid-smartphone, and looked at the mapping, searching for a park near the water where we might be able to walk off leash. I hit the mark on the first try. Bellamy Preserve is an Audubon sanctuary right on the Bellamy River and I didn’t see any signs that said no dogs or dogs must be on leashes. Perfect.
The path follows the shoreline and it was quite lovely.
Then Chico stopped and looked:

He’s not looking forward anymore, he’s looking back, past me, and his ears, tail, and facial expression say that he hears something.
So he came back closer to me (it makes him braver):
The something turned out to be a nice dog named Ruby and her person, C. They walk here regularly and welcomed us to join them. C’s grandmother had donated the land to the Audubon Society, and C and Ruby live in a family house nearby – we couldn’t have found a better person to walk with. The humans had lively conversation and the dogs ran around, sometimes together, sometimes apart, always happy as could be. I had so much fun, I forgot to take a picture of the dogs together. Ooops. And it’s too bad because Ruby had the cutest spotted paws on her black body. My vote is that there’s some Border Collie in her, though the adoption agency called her a Lab/Boxer mix. But what do I know?
Chico got to run in an agility trial with Julie as his handler. It’s so cool to see him work with someone else, to see him do such a good job, and to see how Julie handles his refusal at the weave poles.
The refusal at the weave poles means that he will not have a qualifying run. The ability to weave like a maniac at home and then be unable to get the poles at a trial is common among dogs. And Chico has that little problem. So, what Julie does is make the weave poles into the funnest thing in the world. Look how she jumps up and down in excitement as he reverses and weaves backwards. Going the wrong direction through the weaves is a “bad thing” for competition, but what Julie wants is for Chico to think that doing the weaves at all under the pressure of competition is just the greatest thing in the world.
See how Chico’s tail is wagging at the very end of the run, while Julie is putting his leash on? That’s a dog who is having fun. And making Chico’s life a better place is very important to me.
There’s been a stretch of very nice weather, and I try to get me and Chico outside as much as possible.
The other day, we were outside, and Chico was having a blast deconstructing a stuffed toy.
This is possible because I will pick up the stuffing, jam it back inside, and sew up the ripped seam. Numerous times before breaking down and buying a new one.
After a guy tears the “guts” out of the toy, he can roll on it:
Go figure. But it’s good, clean, fun.