USDAA Southwestern US Regional Report Part 2-Some Nice Things. Plus Not Nice Things.

A nice thing: Otterpop got her first Master's Gamblers Q. On one heckuva gamble! Wow! Totally exciting moment!

A not so nice thing: I destroyed another camera. My cute little snapshot camera is now dead. I have NO CAMERA. NO CAMERA. Apparently there is no camera that exists that I cannot destroy by simply owning it. Good thing I am all about court. I will provide you for now with courtroom sketches except not from the court room, from dog agility.

A nice thing: Gary came to visit the dog show! He got to see 3 of my runs-Standard with Otterpop, Ruby, and Hobbes. Gary NEVER comes to dog shows. He got to meet lots of dog agility friends and learn about dogs' feet touching yellow paint. In 1 short hour, became quite a contact afficianado.

A sort of nice yet not so nice thing: Otterpop was so besides herself with joy, that she prefaced her run by running over and out the ring to go see Gary, and even though she came back in and then went through the timers and knocked out one smashing run, she got 5 faults for holding up the show. Whatever.

A nice thing: Otterpop was so excited about Gary who now knows what contacts are watching her instead of judges that she didn't have a single judge freakout, with a judge who REALLY watches those contacts close. It was like my normal Otterpop with sheep watching her out there running! Even though the judge was still watching! Ha HA! Gary tricked you Otterpop, but not for the powers of evil but the powers of good!

A not so nice thing: A beautiful run being a 5 faulter due to her joy. Whatever.


A nice thing: Ruby had an awesome standard run.

A not so nice thing: It was after she had this whole moment of coming out of the chute in the beginning backwards, and sniffing around in the grass.

A nice thing: She snapped out of it, and then it was one heckuva old Ruby out there.

A not so nice thing: It was a 5 faulter. Leaving the chute backwards and meandering around the buffet table aka some GRASS for a while equals 5 faults.

A nice thing: Hobbes had a super awesome Standard run and even did a nice speedy t-a-b-l-e and no dropped b-a-r-s.

A not so nice thing: He had a couple mini meltdowns elsewhere in the day. I am worried he has been hanging around with my dogs too much?


A very bad thing: Steeplechase all around. Judge freakouts, bar crashing, a-frame refusals, just wretched. Let's just say no Steeplechase Finals on the last day of Regionals for Team Small Dog.


A nice thing: Grand Prix finals. Wow-2 good dogs! Otterpop was flying, and I ran her so fast down the contacts just to get her away from Scott the judge (Do you know him? He is one eagle eyed contact spotter from GETTING IN THERE REALLY CLOSE) that she missed one. I dunno which one even. I was just running and not watching with her. GET AWAY FAST! But I was really proud of her. Ruby had an awesome fast clean run, and was holding her own up there in the standings last I checked. Dunno how she ended up. Lots of dogs in the finals. But it was old Ruby back! Not sure where she's been, or how long she'll be here. But I was super happy to see her again! Thanks Ruby! Thanks Otterpop!

Uh, once again I don't think I can tell you who won stuff. There were so many awesome dogs and handlers there, it was really fun to watch as much as I could. Super cool to see all these dogs I've never seen and totally different handling styles. Arms this way and that and facing this way and that and rear crossing here and blind crossing there and just a blast to watch. Thanks everybody-I wish I could have took your picture! Will try to do some more sketching on the last day. Must draw super fast...

Hello and welcome to the USDAA Southwestern US Regional Championships Report!

Here are some things I can tell you about. Um, you wanted to know who was winning stuff? Uh, I am probably the wrong person to ask. I am really bad at keeping track. I don't even know if I made the second round of the Grand Prix? I assume not, unless someone tells me I have to run tomorrow. But my dogs were ok. They've been better, but they've been worse. I'm not sure if Ruby wants a dog show career anymore.

Really, everyone seemed like they were having a pretty good time. Festive! No freaking out that I was hearing. A scarey moment when a super champion dog had a seizure right in his weave poles. He'll be ok. I ran leashes for a big chunk of the Grand Prix, and I CAN tell you what the latest style in leashes is. Sort of plasticky, woven slip leads with some little beads on them sometimes. Also saw a whole buncha dogs I don't know from far off lands like LA and Oregon and I don't know where else. An agility tattoo of a dog in a tunnel-maybe this is a famous agility lady?

I didn't see anyone weeping in the ladies room. Always a good sign!


The people from the news came.


Eric is videoing my good runs. He will try to be at another ring during my bad runs.


Rob took REAL pictures of dog agility.


I don't know what Sue was trying to tell me. This lady is one fierce competitor. In a do-rag.


People came in all kinds of rvs. Some were really super gigantor ones.


Super cute little ones.


Jim and Sue did a lot of course building.


Karey demonstrates Stop in the Name of Love hand, a useful dog agility move.


This Laura looks VERY supermodel in her skort.


Mary does the robot while her dog weaves.


This is also a Mary. Hey and she is doing the robot too!


Derby did a fine job on this weird angle first jump. Tammy is catching up to me in age now. She just turned 40.


Hobbes, not so much on his weird angle first jump. He is kind of having a first jump thing.


Hobbes, why do you do that?


Sometimes, you can just be a big huge dork.


And very, very fierce.


I hope I didn't give you a phobia. But can you see why I am so crazy about Hobbes? He is the cutest border collie I have ever seen.


Killy is a multi talented border collie.


Very tricky trick. Dave told me Erika loves my blog. I think he was rolling his eyes.


Tater just came for the Grand Prix on Saturday. Tater is one of my most favorite dogs. Him and Ruby go Way Back.


This was Otterpop's pairs partner. Thanks for being a good dog for pairs and Grand Prix Otterpop! You held it together. Baxter the corgi was very happy about that.


Jeep flew all the way from Connecticut. Her and Katie are super champions! We hope you win!


For Team Small Dog, it's mostly about just going down to a giant, empty field before getting back in the car and playing frisbee for a while. Eating some pieces of cheese. The agility part? It's ok. The running and barking and biting and frisbee and cheese part? Right on.

Did you want to go to USDAA Nationals?

So the premium is up for the USDAA Nationals. Which actually isn't called that. Call it the Cynosport World Games. Because that is way easier to say.

It's big, it's expensive, and it's in Arizona. Scottsdale, Arizona. The fancy part of Arizona. And I saw this over on the Elite Forces of Fuzzy Destruction, the most uber dog agility blog, about the dress code. And the camera code. Like dress nice, because it might be on tv. Don't want the USDAA to look bad. So they suggest as an example, polo shirts that are tucked into appropriate slacks and shorts. Because that always looks good. Fashion forward. And then they don't want anyone who might take good pictures who might use a professional style camera to take pictures. Because if you are going to take pictures, they should be really crappy ones. Let the pro's handle the big cameras.

I know, I know. Legal and branding. Legal and branding. Legal and branding and making their dime. Horse shows? Total dress code. Most moms can't find their kid out there in a sea of other kids in same helmet, jacket, boots and breeches. And everyone always making big dime at horse shows. Is a living. And want the photographers to pay for their right to sell photos. Which isn't how it works in the rest of dog agility but how it works here. Because this is the Big Leagues.

So are we taking a huge work vacation, packing the car with dogs, driving down to Arizona to use only my tiny snapshot camera and wear a tucked in polo shirt? Which we would have to buy. Oh wait. I have one with a giant screenprinted snake and Johnny Cash face on it. Although too short to tuck. I am SO NOT A TUCKER! But it matches a skort which they forgot to mention on dress code list but I know they think is ok. Golfers wear them and Tennis ladies. The dogs are qualified, they could be ready to go a the drop of a hat. They LOVE roadtrips. MOTEL ROOMS! Deserts!

I'm deciding next week. If the Stepford dogs are with me this weekend, then its FOR SURE no. Even if the good dogs come, here's the thing. Here's how a committed and serious dog agility lady makes decisions. A committed lady who still practiced this week and noticed how Super the dogs were and no Stepford like and fast and competitive in their respective jump heights. During practice. Always a likelihood that Stepfords could return at Any Time. Stepfords work like that. But the other decision to be made is, USDAA Nationals will cost about, almost, exactly the same as Sliding Glass Door in the bedroom wall and it's tiny little deck. A thing which, is a closer drive. Just to Home Depot. And I can actually stay home and make money instead of Losing Money for a week for sliding glass door. When you are self employed, a week of vacation is called Pay A Lot to Lose One Week of Money.

So yeah. Pay a lot of money for days of driving for specific outfit wearing and rule following and potential Stepford dogs never making it off a startline due to the whole Spectacle factor? To a vacation that husband has already vetoed as not a vacation? I'll let you know next week.

Today begins the Countdown to the Regionals.

Starting on Friday, the Frozen Margarita Ring Games begin!

I just found that out. That one of the rings feature frozen margaritas during the Friday night pairs classes. Truth or just mean rumor and when we get there and find a bunch of waters from Costco? I'll bring some beer. Now I am super highly motivated to get there on time. If anyone sees my partners, tell them I'll be there! I am still at work! Then stopping at the liquor store! I am super at running courses I haven't walked.

So it is also known as Bayteam Regionals. Bayteam is my other dog club and this is one heckuva doozy of a trial coming up this weekend. 5 rings. 3900 runs. Starts out with Friday night Pairs, which Katie has told me feature margaritas and she is coming all the way from Conneticut for margarita agility. Look for her black and white sheltie. Look for my blue tent Katie! And a buncha little black dogs. I think the margaritas will be a good thing because I just heard on the news that it is going to be 180 degrees this weekend? Is that right? What is the melting point of stain resistant skorts?

Then on Saturday is work and Dam Team and work and Grand Prix. The work sort of weaseled back in there. I am skipping the Dam Team part. Thanks work! So hi! If I am missing my walk through you guys will show me where to put dangerous front crosses, right? Walking courses, highly overrated.

Then Sunday and Monday are just loads more classes and Steeplechase is in there somewhere and hopefully Gamblers and this and that.

So maybe you heard me whining. My dogs were like kidnapped last weekend by these Stepford dogs. Taken prisoner from the super speedy and accurate and well behaved Dirt Nite dogs, practicing for sheep dogs, Stepford dogs at the trial.

You think I am joking right? I present for your perusal, thanks to Super Cool Video Guy Eric:

A little video I like to call Otterpop stares at the judge all the way over the dogwalk and plans her attack on him to be launched after the a-frame. It sounds like a baby is screaming in the background. You can see my chatting with her on the table. "Otterpop you CAN'T BARK at the JUDGE!" He committed the sin of man in hat too close to dogwalk. Augh!

Or how about a little video I like to call Ruby who runs insane like and IS NOT TURNING and leaps off the table into my stomach before crashing through a jump. Right? Like do SANE dogs jump into your stomach off the table before laying down? Ruby, you are so feral sometimes.

Right? Enjoy! See you for those margaritas and beer! Cross your fingers the Stepfords are gone and I will be arriving this weekend with my REAL DOGS!

Team Small Dog Courtroom Drama-Part 1

So today starts the exciting and dramatic story I like to call Courtroom Drama. Because you know I've already proven myself to be a drama queen. And today, August 26, coincidentally Day 2 of the Democratic National Convention that I am supposed to be covering for my friend Jon's art project, yet haven't due to working on my legal briefs or panties or whatever, is the day I have to go to Court for my Minor Violation of walking my dogs in Lighthouse Field.

If you are new to all this, Hi! and check here for how we got to this section of the story. It started in y2K when someone decided they didn't like dogs meandering around out there. It's a really long story.


So first of all, I needed to select a good costume for court wearing. I wanted to channel sort of a soccer mom, like Nancy Botwin. Wait. She is a criminal. That's where the denim jacket idea came from. It says, upstanding citizen and not very fashion forward and maybe I drive a mini van? Dog agility lady? I think? Well, whatever. I thought I was nicer dressed than thug guy in line in front of me at least. But I get ahead of myself.


Do you recognize this Court? It is also known as scenic and glamorous site of my wedding! Right across the street from the dry cleaners.


Team Small Dog, minus dogs, parks here.


The Midget Mobile, covered in INSANE TROLLS parks next to us.


Guys, I am serious. Insane trolls cover the Midget Mobile in the parking lot of the Santa Cruz County Court Building.


Where they also have Wi-Fi.


But no pets. Doesn't that pet look familiar? It's totally Gustavo! Being a law abiding Nancy Botwin of a citizen, did not bring dogs in. Or a camera. I was ready to sketch. Because that is what you do in the courtroom. I brought a pen and some pieces of paper. Old school.


So I go to the basement. Where Traffic/Minor Violations Court is. There's not even a metal detector, but it does say NO GUNS OR KNIVES on the sign. Walking around with my dogs in the park is a Minor Violation, according to the State. I am proud to say didn't even cross my mind to bring a gun or knife. I just like to walk my dogs is all. Sheesh.


Stand in line. There's a nice lady in a striped shirt at a ticket window, like you would go to buy your ticket to the circus. She has the computer back there. A very old computer, the kind with a black window and bright green light up words in it. What was it's name? Dos? Unix? Poor striped shirt lady works in a dark basement with a plastic vine on her gray cube wall and even though out front they rave about their Wi-Fi, she just has Dos for a friend. And no pets.

I gave her my ticket, with my Court Date right there at the bottom. She types it in.

It's not there! Whoa! Can you say Midget Mobile? She says sometimes it just takes a while. I'm like, "But it said I had to come in Today or I'd get a warrant? And then they don't even put me in there?"

She's like, "Yeah."

I'm kind of like, just standing there. It is sort of an anticlimactic feeling. I stayed up super late writing my little speech of why I was pleading Not Guilty using most excellent words and needed a Real Court Date to go in the no guns or knives room, and this blonde lady in a striped t-shirt says I'm just not in there yet.

She takes a pen, the old fashioned thing people used to write with, grabs my ticket, and writes down 9-11-2008 on it. "Check back then. You should be in. You should get a letter too."

OK. Are you serious? Send Team Small Dog in on September 11? Can you say Midget Mobile AGAIN? Stay tuned for more Courtroom Drama coming at you sometime after September 11. Coincidence? I think not.

The law is called the Law of Karma and you will learn a lesson now.

So while you are reading this, I am actually learning a lot about law at Court! Since we don't know the moral of that story yet, here's one that I can tell you exactly what the moral is and in case you are already bored and ready to move along, the moral is deep and spiritual and also involves using your own washing machine.


In case you are still here, let me tell you about a glamorous part of the horse business. The part where your employees go back to school or Costa Rica and you are stuck with washing all the horse blankets. Something that involves a trip to this place, and a casino sized bucket of quarters.


Glamorous Highway 1! Sunny beach town of Santa Cruz! A hot day! What a better thing to do than to take the giant load of horse laundry to the laundromat. Stuff you wouldn't ever put in your washer at home, and stuff that even the homeless guys washing sleeping bags in the laundromat give you the stink eye for bringing in. It's like horse jammies. Horses are dirty. Imagine their jammies.


Not that I didn't want to spend the day with her. But I went out for a walk.


Here's the mural with the map of my town on the pizza place. Can you see my house?


And a closeup of the exact spot for which I am going to court over for walking my dogs. A coincidence? I think not.


Other fun choices available in this part of town.


Stuff for Kings.


This would have been an ok idea.


Or this.


But instead, I went here. The super expensive organic grocery store. Because who doesn't need $5 peanut butter?


So when I was in there, a strung out guy came running in and threw a bottle of vitamins back at the counter and said, "It was Open! It was Open!" and went running back and grabbed a new bottle and ran out before anyone could say anything. My checker was the girl with stunning forearm tattoos of winged gothic lettering with dates on them and a black bob. Emo girl. Probably weeps later on about her fate in life checking out super expensive groceries for ladies like me.


We just looked at eachother. The bottle of organic vitamins said MALE ENHANCEMENT. He seemed pretty enhanced already. I guess always room for further enhancement.


These guys were sitting out back behind the bike store next door. They don't bark. They would be nice friends for Gustavo but not Otterpop. Otterpop would contaminate them with her unpleasant factor.


So back to the law. There are a bunch of tiny Mexican ladies in the laundromat waiting for the big washers. And mine has a ticking time bomb picture on it making a frantic beeping and has all the horse jammies prisoner and isn't done. I come back from my scenic walk to this fiasco and it is happening in Spanish. It was $8 in quarters to get it this far. I have other important things to do on this day off. I have been asked to be a dog trial chair and I tell them how busy I am doing things like running a business and here I am with all the tiny ladies yammering at me and in my best Spanish am trying to explain ticking time bomb of evil washer and voodoo curse against me and I DID hit the VERDE button and finally just yank 100lbs of sopping wet unspun horse jammies and shove the dripping mess of them in the back of my car.

Um, does this have anything to do with teaching Gustavo his straight weave poles? Going to court? Being a better dog trainer? Of course. The law of Karma says, according to Wikipedia, our source for all cliffnoted explanations of complicated things, "Through the law of karma, the effects of all deeds actively create past, present, and future experiences, thus making one responsible for one's own life, and the pain and joy it brings to him/her and others."

So yesterday, all dour and feel sorry for like, and boo hoo no one will ever invite me to beat Michael Phelps and his fat bulldog when dog agility gets added to the Olympics and I'll just have to watch Susan Garrett battle it out with him and who cares about the floating polar bears and gathering Democrats in Denver when you are having a sad dog show day.

What is the reward for this kind of thinking?

How about 100lbs of sopping wet horse jammies currently clogging up my driveway and the tiny ladies wagging tiny, angry little fingers at you all the way out the laudromat door, trailing a wet, sloppy trail behind me.

It's like you know, all emo girl, like but, like without the hair.

So is this thing on? Can you hear the soundtrack here? I am channeling Black Sabbath and singing you the classic rock tune Paranoid. You guys all know that one. Think of me as sort of a folk singy Emo girl wearing a stain resistant skort instead of pegged pants and silver stud belt with creepers. With some liver treats in the pockets. How did I go all emo girl? You know them, they are like the myspace version of Morrisey girls from the '80's, of which I never was. Late bloomer. I feel all these new tattoos coming on. Like a new hobby! Folk singing of classic rock hits and tattoo getting. Perhaps because to take the place of dog agility which, to quote Ozzy, you will laugh and I will cry. When you hear the kind of weekend I had. A weekend that has me reverting to quoting Ozzy Osborne. We may be hitting some kind of rock bottom here.

I mean really. After watching a bunch of runs, my agility pal and role model of good dog trainer, and who is a genuine doctor of PhD, says, scratching his head, "Maybe it's not your dogs, maybe you need to go into therapy?" Sort of sums up the whole dog show weekend. And makes tattoo collecting sound better and better. And has me brushing up on my guitar strumming in hobby change preparedness.

Like let's take Ruby. How about 1 run manic speed with no control, 1 run frozen can't move off the startline, 1 run lopes slowly around, 1 run half slow, half speed and speed crashing through jumps. Cannot do a-frames anymore and runs around them. Like no pattern. No reason I can find. Nothing we ever seen in training. Just this whole bipolar weekend of insanity. I doubt any Q's. Have no idea.

Like Otterpop. Who reverted to judge staring, freaking and barking. Until I HAD IT and with one last little bark, pulled her out of the ring and marched her to the car and stuck her in there, jail time. Which sadly worked and she ended up with a bunch of Q's but still. That's just no fun. Dog punishing by locking up in a car because she hates a judge? I could be at home practicing the chords for Foghat songs and drawing tattoos of frozen in the headlight deer standing in line art landscapes. That take up whole, entire backs.

Otterpop at dog shows is not the dog I usually do agility with. Same with Ruby, at least at this dog show. Agility is super fun with my dogs. But these weirdo Stepford dogs, 26 faces of Eve dogs, creepy girl twins out of the Shining bloody elevator dogs, I could do without.

So I dunno. Hi all you Bayteam and SMART pals that come and say hi and hope I don't go to jail this week. More on that later. You guys all see my dogs. Usually I'm like, whatever. My dogs are weirdo, I dunno, life goes on. This weekend, closest I ever got to dogs making me sit down in my portable dog agility chair from Target and go all weepy and and write bad poetry in bic rollerball on my sneakers. Drama queen. Frustrated over a stupid dog show when polar bears are floating around on tiny ice cubes and John McCain is counting his houses on 2 hands. Like I'm not crammed into the Superdome forced to drink my own urine. But still. When I sent Hobbes up there on that dogwalk instead of in the tunnel, just wanted to crawl in a gopher hole and turn in my soccer cleats to either of the Crew Chiefs Mary. Trade them for some raffle tickets to win a shrink wrapped basket of biscuits, and leave that place, barefooted and off to the tattoo shop.

It is a dog show weekend.

So we were at the SMART USDAA in Prunedale today. Drive through artichokes, past the castle, turn left at the smokestacks, through Prunetucky and you can't miss it. Declared it a holiday at work, and am living high on the hog, 2 whole days of dog showing. One reason was for Steeplechase. Because we love love LOVE Steeplechase. And exactly how many of my dogs qualified in it? 

How about exactly zero! 

A day off work and no one made Steeplechase Finals! To the tune of one dog who ran slowly and stealthily UNDER the a-frame to give stink eye to a very sweet YOUNG man judge, before running up and over and to a nice fast finish. After barking at a judge in her Standard as she ran over and down the a-frame. Oh MAN. And maybe another dog who after a manic morning of speed with errors, just sort of pooped around Steeplechase all blase and what is wrong with my dogs? I think we got some Q's, and in some stuff not some Q's. No Gamblers Q's! Ha HA!

But I can say that Gustavo played frisbee out on the field and came every single time I called him! So now there's looking on some sunny side up! Yes, every single time! Like I would say, "Come!" and he would just come running! This doesn't sound desperate, right? I was serious happy and proud of that. And he even brought back the frisbee a couple a times.

You know that cheery song by Ween, You F*&cked UP? I was listening to that song on the way home. I saw a big dead roadkill turkey on the side of the road and a teepee out there by the Latino rodeo spot. I forgot to bring my camera. Little snapshot camera, since I f%#cked up and killed my dad's nice camera. Hopefully recovering at the camera hospital in Illinois. Anyways, and was thinking, how come I am not the lady that just kicks ass every single dog agility course every single time? They say, "Come and join the world team kick ass lady!" Instead I am the lady that kinda screws up. Even when I'm thinking I did an ok job?

OK. Maybe don't answer that. Unless you have the exact solution for me that will work. But I do try!

And I thought, if I was a proper weepy competitor, I could curl up and wish to die and just be so bummed. Emo girl. Morose. Switch to all black clothes and big eyeliner scrawls around my slitty stink eyes. How age inappropriate would that be? Of the fact we don't exactly get better anymore, that we sort of just have dogs shows like this. Use that emo to drive some better competitive spirit home and get better. 

Instead, repeat performance of some barking at judges and slow moments and crashing through bars and careening off the table. And I'm in the car and merging onto super fast hwy 1 traffic, just driving fast and screaming along with the Weens super loud and just thinking it was still an a-0k day. And maybe tomorow, it's a better day. Maybe it's not. Not sure how to try harder, not sure how to try better. But like for now, we can just be rockstars in my mind maybe and then have a nice big slice of cheesecake for dinner.

Am not selling any dogs to gypsies.

Today when I was walking the dogs, and I saw Tube Top Lady and her dogs, I was happy I didn't sell them all at the end of Webb Road the other day. Which is what I threatened them all with. Their phobias and barking and and feral cat stalking and this and that and I'd had it. Told them all I was putting up a sign at the end of our road that said Dogs for Sale Cheap. Free. Matched Set. Scrawled on a sheet of cardboard in sharpie, tacked up to a post down by the cow field, by where the dinosaurs are tied to the chain link fence.

Guess that straightened them up. No one afraid of teeters or ghosts since, using manners and quiet voices, and when we were on a walk and ran into Tube Top Lady, all dogs averted their eyes and trotted on ahead. Because Tube Top Lady scares us. Her dogs always wear sweaters, even like today when it was a sweater. Like you sweat and you don't wear a sweater kind of day. Her big mean dog, in polar fleece, the little lethal one, red sweater. She had on big white sunglasses and a stripey tube top and as soon as she saw me, smiled, let out her flexi leashes and started the mayhem. She always does this. Usually I cross the street, and my dogs, bless their little not for sale anymore hearts, have learned that you just look straight ahead and pretend like they aren't there. Like the kids smoking pot on their bmx bikes in the sidewalk do when they see me. Here comes an invisible lady and we just keep sitting here smoking pot and we can't see her.

Tube Top Lady's dogs start flinging their bodies around, rabid-like and wishing they weren't wearing sweaters, and she just grins and coos at them and we keep going the other way. We see her every few weeks, have for years. Just how she walks her dogs. In the winter, no tube top. A sweater. In the tube top, I am always happy stays up when the dog mayhem on her leashes ensues. I believe she has an underwire support somewhere in there. She is ample bosomy. Not sure what she thinks when she's walking her dogs and they go insane. Before she had the little one, just the big one would do it. Then she added on. Sometimes will just stand on the corner with them while they bark and carry on and we sort of learned how to scurry on by. We never talk to her, and she never talks to us. I sort of imagine that if she could talk, maybe just drool would come out her mouth instead.

Later, walking home from the beach, I see this jack russell named Max that never wears a leash. Even when around cats in the neighborhood. His people are so attractive and tan and dressed nice all the time. Super nice. Clearly a perfect family. I ask his man, "He's ok with all the cats? A jack russell can walk by all the cats?" Because I have cat attack times three. Always wear leashes walking around the neighborhood.

Guy says if the cats stay still, he don't chase 'em. I am impressed. I think one helluva good dog there. Otterpop is giving him the stink eye, because she's been carrying her tennis ball home from the beach and Max is walking nearby, close enough he could snatch it if he was an asshole. Being a really good dog from a good family, he doesn't try to steal it and she even lets me shove it under a fence post a block from the beach, part of our tennis ball underground railroad, because you never know when you're going to just need a dirty old tennis ball somewhere between my house and the beach.

Then the jack russell guy says, "Yeah, but he bit the Fed Ex guy today."

Oh. Well. Oops. Max, you lose. My dogs, SCORE! Will never threaten to sell them off again.

The TV Olympics has me befuddled.

We're done with Michael Phelps, right? It's all over? No more giant guy in little froggy pants? We are very happy for him, but we can be done now? Did I miss the dog agility? What channel was that on? Did I even watch tv this week? Where's the tv?

The horses are on but they are on at my friend's house. Or the internet. When our tv is on, it seems like it's the Giants again or volleyball? Why is there all this volleyball on my tv with the Giants? Because it is the babes in bathing suits event? The guys are wearing shorts and t-shirts and the girls are in sports bras and little bottoms right there on tv? I just wanted to watch the Jumpers go. Not the bathing suit parade. Olympic sports on my tv all involve bathing suits. Once I saw some 3-Day stuff. Not our bag. Was hoping to maybe see some Jumpers rounds. Except it was Michael Phelps and the sports bras. I think it's Buddhists that say you Don't hope. You either do, or you don't do. So I just gave up on TV Olympics somewhere this week.

I guess if we can't even have the horse Grand Prix guys, the guys out there winning the Big Money Grand Prix's on a regular basis on normal tv, we're not getting dog agility for a while. In horse Grand Prix, sponsored by Rolex. Mercedes. Win serious big piles of money. Dangerous! Dog Grand Prix? A little ribbon, except at the Nationals, a middling pot of money to pay for your airplane ticket. Maybe we need to add the water jump to dog Grand Prix? Would lose too many dogs to splashing joy? Experience the danger of the dicey front cross!

Michael Phelps has a bulldog, saw it on tv. Because he was on it every time my tv was for a while there. Maybe he learns to do dog agility out there in Florida or wherever? He's gonna need a hobby. Because I think after this, he's not gonna need a job.

Some things I could tell you about, but won't in the hopes it is just a phase?

I could tell you about how Gustavo today ran up the teeter, just like he has been for months, then had a moment of panic, bailed off the side and acted from then on as if the teeter totter was the evil yet invisible ghost that lives at the dressage ring up the hill from our deck and causes insane barking. Even though he has been a little teeter freak until this very day, always flying up it and slamming it with gusto and intent after my careful protocall of teaching an always fast and confident teeter totter. Rendering it more tater totter now. The frozen kind they serve in prison. To dogs that bark all day at work at an empty dressage ring and won't shut up.


Or how he found a piece of rotten hunk of meat in the field, where he was doing the criminal act of walking around off leash, and pretended he didn't know me. Stranger Danger! Do not know you and do not need to listen to you and in fact, I could just Run Away From You! Evil lady going to take away meat. Other dogs, who have had their share of bad dog days, looking aghast and smug in their dog trained ways. Sort of like the other day when I was late for a wedding and trying to run out the door and he decided that AHA! Fabulous time to dash through the open gate to climb underneath the car and sit there motionless, like a tiny little squirrel statue. A little lawn squirrel, if you kept your lawn squirrel under the car in an oil puddle. When you were in your backless fat-making dress with sequins and late to a wedding.


But if I told you those things, you would say, maybe you need to Train your dog more? Perhaps you should not be allowed to have dogs and should get something more inert. Bunny. Snake. Leaf collection. And I would just sit down right here and weep. So instead, I will tell you they had a hike the other morning and no one chased any deer. Or joggers. Although in the jogger section of the woods, they stay on a leash. Is the redwood forest that is filled with joggers and odd little bearded homeless men carrying their lives in a ratty backpack. That's the kind of magical woods we have around here. Less deer than the other forest probably, because of the joggers and camping fellows. But grasping at straws here for something nice to say.

We interrupt dog agility for a wedding.

So went to a wedding this weekend.


I was the photographer. I had some help though.


Nice cake.


Nice guests.


Some crazy dancing.


Tons of huge group photos. There were a LOT of people at this wedding.


Because Donna and Birdie have been together for 22 damn years but couldn't get married in our State of California til now.


Just a simple ceremony. Dogs were invited. Um, well behaved dogs.


Reverend Hillary rocked the proceedings.


Ended with a round of applause.


And an official Marriage Certificate.


A big toast.


Right on.

Masters Gambler Seminar with Rob Michalski. Sorry Rob!

This weekend, we went to a seminar. By Rob. Who is one of my agility teachers. And my agility pal. And who happens to own Hobbes, rockstar coolness my favorite border collie in the universe and big huge super gambler's champ.

As opposed to Team Small Dog. Who collectively posesses exactly 3 Master's Gamblers Q's. My non agility friends, we need these Q's to get our ADCh or else we end up with sad, unfulfilled lives, passed out on the floor of the Chelsea Hotel with the police on our way and not sure who's blood that was all over the place and it's not a nice ending to the story. So we need all the help we can get. Rob said he would try to help us, but it was also possible we were beyond help. Like our problems may involve a voodoo curse and could take intervention of zombies to get it off of us. We thought we would go to the seminar anyways. Curse or no curse, we are determined to muddle through and get those gambler's Q's.

Also, it was the super fun wedding of one of my oldest and bestest friends and I was the official Wedding Photographer. Many dogs were invited to the wedding, yet curiously, not Team Small Dog. We were happy the wedding went off without a hitch and no small animals were eaten there, nor any food stolen off the buffet line, no barking at of guests, drinks toppled and no wedding cakes invaded by dog fiasco. Was very smart to not invite Team Small Dog! Although, perhaps not coincidentally to our good fortune in Master's Gamblers, I did manage to kill my dad's camera AFTER the wedding, although I did save all the wedding photos! The camera will have to go to the hospital, a fact of which we mourn. Is sort of like knocking the bar after getting the super hard gamble, my agility friends. A heartbreaking ending to a moment of bliss.

Here are some things we learned this weekend:

It is challenging to go to a Master's Gambler's Seminar after a wedding that contained much wild dancing and perhaps some bottles of wine. Sort of like it was challenging to go straight to the wedding after getting up super early to go to work. After a rehersal dinner/bachelorette party that contained perhaps some bottles of wine. Was sort of that type of weekend.

Since the camera is in the ambulance currently, en route to the camera doctor, we will have to use wedding photos taken with my camera from the grassy knoll after I went off duty as Official Photographer to illustrate important points from the Master's Gambler's Seminar. Um, to Rob's defense, I should emphasize here that I am PARAPHRASING what Rob said here and he would tell you these things somewhat different. Really different. Rob uses the Scientific Method of Dog Training and he has Hobbes, and I use the Team Small Dog method and I have a hangover.


Consitency, consitency, consitency. If it smells like a pinwheel, your dog should get it that there's a pinwheel. Use your Dumbo Ride arm and get your dog out there. But make sure it really does smell like a pinwheel and you are not violating the Law of the Refusal Line. Discrimination? Arm out or shoulder in. Deal with your Refusal Lines and Discriminations, people, to figure out how best to do your gamble.


Consitency, consitency, consitency. Footwork. OK, you were pointing to the right place, pushing perpendicular to your dog's path, not the obstacle. Still didn't go out to the tunnel? Where were your feet pointing? Did you accessorize the bottom of your outfit to the top of your outfit so the whole outfit says tunnel, not just your blouse? Shoes matter!


Otterpop is not retarded, she can do the hard gambles as soon as everyone is NOT LOOKING and has gone to sit at the far end of the field and I have proof from Mary who secretly watched out of the corner of her eye. Otterpop was the one that got the dogwalk gamble first! Good god, someone help me remove this zombie curse.

That time when she tried to explain the politics of Russia and Georgia to us.

Well, I tell you about dog training all the time, I might as well explain what's going on in Georgia for you. I do have a lot of years of college under my belt. Like a genuine Masters Degree. Maybe in making art projects, but still. I was in the gifted program in elementary school, until removed for something. Don't quite recall what. Possibly for having a big mouth. Or doing something illegal. It's all a blur. Must have gotten ungifted somewhere. But I know you are all busy out there teaching YOUR puppies to do their straight weave poles. While I'm just sitting here watching the news. Olympics. Project Runway. DVD's of HBO's Carnivale my new favorite thing to watch on tv!


So say you have a big couch, and Otterpop considers it all hers. Even though Ruby just wants to sit on a corner of it. And really, it is NOT Otterpop's couch, it is mine. In Otterpop's universe, I = DOG. Spell that out backwards. All Caps. Because I can make all Caps now! I love my beer free computer! So, I buy the couches around here. Holder of the Master Key to the Universe Known as Visa Proud Sponsor of the Olympics. And we have had this couch longer than Ruby or Otterpop. Really it was Timmy's couch! And it isn't even stained. But has to wear a polarfleece cover over the seat to keep it sort of clean and not chewed up. Although Gustavo has chewed on the corners of it's throw pillows.


And Gustavo, he sits on a corner of it too. No problems. But Ruby, is more of a problem. Because Otterpop and Ruby have a long and complicated history together. Sometimes they share a pig ear. Sometimes one of them steals it. Ditto with the rawhide. Ditto with the special chewy made of private parts hacked off cows before they turn into Gary's burger. Sometimes they get in a tussle for the delectable chewies, other times they share. This goes on for years and years. There have been a couple actual dog fights over the years, but then they are like super best friends forever 2 minutes later. It has been a year of friendliness, as long as Ruby stays on her corner of the couch.


Also let's say this is a little more complicated because Ruby is part terrier and part I dunno. And Otterpop is part chihuahua and likely cattle dog and part I dunno. And Gustavo is Untested Breed. All caps. So they all go to different churches! But somewhere down the line, share same genetics. Except maybe Gustavo. Because he has no genetics. Mercifully free of DNA. He is like NATO. Ruby wants to join his club. But really, still shares some of that different yet the same genes as Otterpop.

And they just keep doing crap to make each other crazy. Someone steals the Rainbow Squeaky Ball! Someone took the last squrirel that actually had a squeaky in it and chewed it out and threw the stuffing everwhere. Someone is just jumping off and on the couch over and over barking and running across the house and back on the couch and it is so fast and doesn't he ever get tired of that? And now they are all playing with toys together and it is small dog bliss and now someone is mad and MUST have that toy now and MUST sit on this couch alone. They all just either drive each other nuts or play nice. I can't always tell. Mostly depends on all our moods.


Let's say Gary is George Bush. DO NOT tell him I said that. But he is like, "Hey Ruby, you should have your corner of the couch," and wants to throw Otterpop off her corner. Oh MAN does that make Otterpop mad. Like why is GARY getting mixed up in all this, it's not even his couch. OK, in reality it is because we're married but I am pretty sure I put that couch on MY credit card so we'll just say it's mine. But I am not trying to be a couch hog if you are reading this Gary! Share and Share alike, I am not like Otterpop, really!


Do you see how complicated this is? As president of our living room, I think I'm just going to move all the dogs to the floor and let they stay there for a while. Now maybe Gary read this and he's all How come she says SHE's president of the living room and there was something about some missiles and oil pipelines and you know what? I'm just going to make the dogs go outside and get off the damn couch right now.

Hello and welcome to where I am welcoming you in advance.

This photos doesn't have anything to do with anything. But I just liked it. Also in case you need to recognize me from behind. On my bike.

So it seems like some people who know me from reading about the exploits of Team Small Dog are coming to Santa Cruz-ish locales soon. For Bayteam Regionals, or vacations or work trips. Hi! And I just typed that with a new letter "B Capital B" thank you guy with super crazy insane belt of accessories and indoor fishing cap who talks like a robot and I couldn't understand what you said but I think it meant don't drink beer inside your laptop anymore and why so much dog hair in the computer? You guys are serious travelers. Especially the people coming from far off lands like Conneticut for the Regionals! And you are bringing a small dog that will kick my small dogs' collective asses I believe!

So that part I am resigned to, especially since I have a long standing tradition of totally choking in the Steeplechase Finals at Regionals already. And I can try to collect my Super Q's other places. But I am very excited to meet you all. You will witness my Masters Gamblers curse first hand. I am tempted to tell you all come sleep in my tiny spare bedroom with new carpeting and then my husband is like, "Um. Wait. You told some people from the INTERNET to come and sleep in our bedroom with no bed and no door and you didn't build the shelves although you are already plotting to TEAR OUT THE WHOLE BACK WALL BY YOURSELF TO PUT IN A NICE GLASS PASSAGEWAY TO OUR DEAD BACKYARD?"

So yeah. Maybe you can't stay at my house. It is really small. And I don't dust my antler and plastic horse and pine cone collections enough. There are dogs running amuck at all times and they make loud, irritating noises. And by Regionals, god knows if we have a wall anymore because I love love love my crowbar so much and Sunset Magazine. I'll be at Regionals the whole weekend so the day before is the perfect time to start ripping out an exterior house wall! But you guys are going to all come find me right and introduce yourselves, right?

To recognize me, I am the only lady with 3 small black dogs marching around at the trial. Unless there's more of us. Then, sorry other lady with 3 small black dogs. I just sent you stalkers. Don't confuse me with Arlene, who has 2 of them. And hers aren't twins. Ruby and Otterpop sort of are. Until you know them then you know the secret of Otterpop is Unpleasant and Speckly and Ruby is has no tail and is trying to steal your treats. Scientific Formula=Otterpop=popsicle=popsicle stick=tail. Super easy secret of telling them apart. And Gustavo. No one else looks like him. Look for a border collie chihuahua. Untested Breed. He isn't entered. We are still plotting his debutante ball of dog agility and teaching him to be short at the measuring table. And teaching him to sit while his collar comes off and not go into drunk frat guy toga party mode. And weave poles. He mostly walks around and sits on people's laps and plays frisbee and runs away. Maybe you will find him for me if he escapes from his crate! Usually I am doing highly important jobs such as fluffy the chute. Set the bars. Carry the scribe sheets. Well, someone's gotta.

Uh, and I look like your basic dog agility lady. Probably wearing a ballcap. Tattoo all covered up so no sun damage. Sometimes a giant border collie pulling me around too. Unless I have caused him a phobia and don't get to run him anymore. I tend to carry a dirty old orange flying squirrel frisbee around like another pet. Maybe I'll be wearing a skort. Because now I have 2! And i love to say that word. Skort skort skort skort skort. I have chubby knees though. I might be running from the parking lot super fast because I came straight from work and am missing my walk through for the Grand Prix. You would think all that running gets rid of knee fat but maybe unfortunately not.

The dog phobiaizer.

I think I finally figured it out. I had a birthday a few weeks back. I got older. And wiser. And I think I have figured out that I am a dog phobia giver, so sort of like a parallel universe to the dog whisperer. The dog phobiaizer. Dog whisperer, he whispers or something, things to make the dogs perfect and act with manners and grace. The dog phobiaizer, let's just say something along the lines of opposite of whispering. Last night at Dirt Nite, it all became clear.

I have Gustavo who has developed an aversion to the icky polymer coating that makes our own dirt at Dirt Night so charming. Who's dislike of coming out into that covered arena is getting weird and he twitches and itches and scratches and looks like a little phobia nutcase out there with some kind of condition. Sort of like tourettes for tiny little dogs.

I have Otterpop, who has developed a freakish aversion to Hans, one of the nicest agility husbands in the history of the universe who sits on the deck near where she stays parked. My non agility friends, we have parking places for our dogs, just like you do at your office. We park them and tie them up on ropes to a pole and Otterpop's phobia now causes her to bark her head off at Hans if he moves a muscle.

Ruby, I gave her phobias long ago and she is just one big walking bundle of phobia no matter what. They wrote the book on phobia on her. OCD, hypersensitive, you name it, she is totally phobia-ized. It is a wonder she can function at all. Sometimes being out in the cool night air and fog at Dirt Nite bring them all to a head and she runs around and has to pat the same place on the ground, sniff it, circle back and do that 2 or 3 times once she's started. Totally weird and obsessive and becoming clearer is a genuine phobia.

Even Hobbes. Rockstar among border collies. Who are known for phobias, indeed. Likely a perfect breed of dog for me. He is getting a new one for Dirt Night caused by my weird phobia handling and started some weird and spacey things last night. And then other dogs I didn't even handle, I start seeing them do weird things out there. When I am standing out on a course to set some jumps or fluffy the chute. And I realize it. Uh oh. I am giving out phobias even when I'm not running the dogs.

So here I am with this pack of phobia dogs, and have had the realization now that there is some kind of perhaps astrological tie in to the correlation between dog phobia and voodoo and dog handling and is possibly more than a voodoo curse but actually where the stars are all lined up. And I have this feeling that when I changed ages a few weeks ago due to my birthday, I kicked in this retrograde or gatorade of something due to planets and now I give dogs phobias. And Dirt Nite is also on Wednesday Night, which is also Project Runway Night, when Heidi Klum haunts my tv. And I have long ago wondered about the connection between Heidi Klum and Ruby's weird obsessions and maybe has something to do with the astrology? Does that work, even with the magic I hear of On Demand tv so she can appear at ANY TIME on your own television?

I dunno. A theory. A lot of question marks floating around here. Certainly couldn't be handled by flawed dog training, right? Some of you astrology in the know people, you check for me. Do I need to just go bury my head in the sand for a few weeks or what? And aren't the big dog shows coming up JUST AROUND THE CORNER? Oh boy.

This demonstrates yet another area we have limited talents.

I know. You could go on youtube and search on all these dog training videos and learn how to teach your dog weave poles. Or you buy the dvd. Or you come here and you can find out a really crappy way to teach your dog to weave. YES, It is Dog Training Video Wednesday with Team Small Dog! Where you come to see how NOT to train your dog!

He started out with so much promise. Taught the poles in the driveway, and built them into a sequence. Remember? I'm all, "HI! Watch my squirrel weave like a pro! and I am the Talented Dog Trainer!"

Then somewhere along the line, decided he needs to start learning them straight-er, not even STRAIGHT, I tell you. And started closing them in. Um, like you are supposed to do with the channel weaves. Like I taught Otterpop in like 3 weeks. Like my dog agility students all do like pros.

And my dog, he is like, "Huh? No hablo. Porque you soy squirrel y tu never practice enough con mi."

Totalamente no hablo nada. When it has to do with poles in a straight line.

And now look at what a mess I've made. I've got cages up on straight poles and the offset ones a little open and everything is slow and he throws himself through the straight poles like a tiny little falafel sandwich with no hot sauce. And the falafel balls are falling this way and that. All greasy and on your shirt. Tahini dripping off the sides. And I'm wearing those fat pants from the Gap. And I still have no letter "b" and I am just so sick of copying and pasting and not having the Option or Little Apple key. I mean we are just a wreck here, people.

And this I provide for your viewing enjoyment. I know. You don't even need to tell me. Your border collie learned to weave in 5 minutes. Forwards and backwards and you wear a cape for good times when no one is looking. You just keep having your fun and I'll just sit here with the falafel grease going everywhere and we'll see where we end up.

Transitioning from Channel Weaves to Straight Poles-a primer.

Ha. Maybe this whole thing one reason Gustavo still on offest poles. I will blame it on the muse of the interior decorating.


Remember how the surfer guy next door was helping me make a new closet? And then the surf came up. And his buddy's car needed some work. And it was really hot out. And he ordered a pizza. And had to help his cousin.


And then there were the super easy to put down carpet tiles. So easy if you live in a vintage Eames home and you don't have to vacuum your car for like an hour before just giving up. So easy if you actually fit into the tiny pants at Urban Slavetraders and have a personal vegan chef. Are TORTURE for the rest of us.


And then there were all these dogs helping and a really sharp knife.


And all these little corners. And mouldings. And a non square room. Or level floor. And a nap.


And dogs. With blatant disregard for danger or the high level of craftsmanship that I bring to my projects. High level everywhere except where the furniture is carefully arranged on top of.


Ready to bring the taxidermy in when Gary isn't looking and then be able to actually finish up the office out back. And then knock the whole back wall out and put in french doors and a deck and a whole new ceiling! And change the kitchen floor from the relative to the ugly beige carpet called the ugly pink vinyl. And I guess re-landscape the yard so it all matches. I saw it in Sunset magazine. Looked pretty easy. I have my own crowbar.


Then we get those weave poles ironed out.

All we needed were spandex spangles and go-go boots to make it even Funner.

So he made his debut. At a practice show known as a Fun Match. We all lived to tell the tale. First of all, I didn't even try to take videos or pictures and run 3 small dogs who made up exactly half of the 12" division at the Fun Match. I think I did like 22 runs in under 5 hours. You do the math. So I just took pictures later, after a nice shower and the dogs were all asleep. Without actual dogs. No barking. Clean clothes. And so you can see my new carpet I put in last week. You want the good news or the bad news first?

Sorry if you just said bad news. Gustavo rocks the jumpers course. Ran him over the same jumpers courses as Otterpop and Ruby and he just flew around them like he goes out and does that every day of his life. I sort of almost didn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own 2 eyes. He did start off his first one by predictably running across the whole field for a tunnel, then coming back in and just knocking out the course. FAST. Then just kept doing that. Hello! Where the hell did he come up with that?


And in the standard ring, hit all the contacts except for one when the tunnel was right there off the dogwalk (Has been learning to stop, turn, go into the tunnel. but prefers no stop when a lovely tunnel sitting right there calling the tunnel song) but out there on the standard course, not so easy to run and turn. More distractions, more discriminations (Always Pick the Tunnel!) and more of me stopping and starting and micro managing.

A brilliant insight by new handler yet Ace Agility Lady with Discriminating Eye from Watching Many Years of Agility, Roxie, was, "Well of course he goes in all the tunnels. You give him a treat when he comes out!" Oh yeah. I think I am so happy he is not running 100 miles away or to the beach or after a deer that basically his training method is a treat when not running off to a far off land. So thanks Roxie! Maybe we notice that next time we practice. I have been actually not even putting tunnels out lately at all. Were such an integral part of learning all his other obstacles. I am totally responsible for the little tunnel sucker of my own creation.


So now what was the bad news? How about one escape from the crate to join Otterpop on a course? Oops. Thanks, Crate Games that we never really did. Actually sort of cute, 2 dogs for a chunk of a jumpers run. How about the whole concept of I take off your collar and you come with me to the start line. Not to visit all the dogs waiting for their turn. Or the whole thing of after you run, come with me to get your leash, not to once again make the rounds of all these Dogs! Or another tunnel! Or some bushes! Again sort of funny but not so appreciated. So not really bad news, shall we say more of some things to Address With Further Training? Start lines a little bizarre since we just sort of go out there and GO. I am a pretty fast runner but I am realizing he may be a whole other class of fast that might entail a leadout. Meaning stays! Uh, maybe Address With Further Training? And learn to do straight poles?


Lots to practice indeed before a genuine dog show. Other dogs? Otterpop just knocked a buncha runs outta the park. Just solid as can be. Ruby, did some runs but not as many, and her longtime dream and suspicion of potential pot of hot dogs in the middle of an agility course was finally realized out there. Unlike a real dog show, my non agility friends, you can carry around wads of hot dogs with you and dump them out wherever you want on the field at this practice kind. Maybe not such a great idea, but not against the law. No assault weapons at dog agility for law breakers. Ruby entered a realm of joyful previously unknown to her yet what she has been imagining her whole agility career could happen if she was really, really lucky. The luck of Timmy for Ruby! Perhaps will haunt us at a later date, but she sure liked it. Maybe even better than musical saws and lumberjacks.

In this episode, Gustavo is off to his first fun match.

Gustavo goes to his first Fun Match today. My non dog agility friends, this is like a pretend dog show, where dogs like Ruby and Otterpop brush up on skills to practice for the dog shows coming up. And where dogs like Gustavo run around and make people like me look like really crappy dog trainers better suited to pursuits like sitting quietly in a chair and getting tattoos. Reading. Pool hustling. Record collecting. Anything but.


To get ready, Gustavo spent a good part of yesterday barking at himself in the mirror. He doesn't bark at much. Himself in the mirror and pumpkins on the porch and invisible ghosts up at the dressage ring at work. Pretty much it. A little quirky, you are thinking. Indeed. He barks at his freako things, the other dogs, who bark at actual things like the True Danger Known as Mailman, they just sit there and stare at him. Weirdo. Gustavo actually likes the mailman. Weirdo.


When we practice, he does courses and contacts and serpentines and threadles and so forth. Everything the other dogs do, except for his poles. He is basically still shredding the bmx course on a tricycle poles wise. Only fast and speedy when they have their little training wheels of being offset. Straight poles, they're different things, according to him. Like that dog that was sitting in the mirror barking at him all day. A little quirky? Indeed.

This Olympian Project Runway episode Brought to you By capital letter B.

So NBC sells the designers to China. They are off to the giant new stadium called the Chicken Basket to design costumes for the athletes who will march in following the performance By every single memBer of the Chinese army. It is like WOWness! Giant dance numBers with 5000 dancers in light up costumes running around and Banging drums on a 6 mile long rollup LED screen. The likes of which we've never seen. Sort of like Circque de Soleil, the Epic Version goes to Burning Man desert as produced By the Chinese army But directed By Tim Burton But censored By Celine Dion and the Board memBers with nice taste. Totally weird. And BIG! The designers all sit there and Blayne is still rattling on aBout tanning. You are in CHINA dude! Check out this epic of BIG around you. You get your own sweatshop to Build your outfit!

So they hide a tiny sweat shop under each designer's taBle, all these scared little slave children with Bleeding fingers huddled under each designer's ankles, and take off to an IKEA factory that the set decoraters made look just like Mood. Everyone Buys red, white and Blue faBric except for Stella who gets Black faBric and plans to use someone else's red, white and Blue scraps. Ralph Lauren is Bound and gagged and shipped to Taiwan. The top designer's outfit will Be forced on the poor Coke swilling, Big Mac stuffed atheletes to march around in the Chicken Basket in front of the whole world while 60 million fireworks go on overhead and Celine Dion is flying around on wires overhead screaming at them. So what do they envision as suitaBle for this?

How aBout a circus outfit with a floppy hat? Jerrell is totally insane. The heart must go on. How aBout a purple cocktail frock? Daniel Vosovic, you were a snotty shit this week and don't deserve your own sweatshop. I think your parents might already own one. How aBout a little numBer that could also Be worn to sell airplane tickets at the airport after the plane has already left and you don't even know it? You are getting Aufed for that one, one of you Brown haired girls. How aBout giant, high waisted, unflattering pants that will swallow the tiny gymnasts up whole? Korto just says, screw that. Put the whole gymnastics team in one pair of pants. See if I care, Because I'm in China now and I'm winning this shit. Joe says wear a skort! A super ugly skort I wouldn't ever wear to dog agility yet was mayBe ordered already for the whole world team to wear to dog agility. Wait til Ashley with Luka sees that.

Tim Gunn, last seen with Apolo Ohno. Who was the only athelete they could get Because all the summer ones at McDonald's training camp sponsored By Visa. The only card accepted at the Chicken Basket. Let the games Begin! Sorry Ralph Lauren, you will get untied to watch the dressage.

A month so busy with things that all require having a letter B.

August is sort of the end of summer, and all this stuff gets crammed into the end of summer because it has to happen, well, before summer ends. The big dog shows are at the end of the month, I bet some of you readers are even coming for one of them- the Bayteam Regionals. People come from far away for that one. Four days of big huge dog show. Which take place super close to my work! Meaning I can go to every single day! And still go to work. Very glamorous, the team small dog style of dog agility.

But there are other things. My other dog club's dog show the week before the regionals. A wedding to go to. Therapy dog visit. A masters gamblers seminar. Gustavo's very first fun match is this Sunday. Which is the exact same day as the Internantional Musical Saw Festival at Roaring Camp, which is the lumerjack steam train place. And there are all these giant vaulting horses out at the fairgrounds, right by my work, for the National Vaulting Championship. GIANT horses that canter in a circle while gymnasts in costumes leap around on and off their back's. Circus tricks!

Here's your itinerary. Probably I am forgetting a lot of stuff:

Sunday, August 10

Gustavo's First Fun Match, Hollister, CA.
Sure to be entertaining, at the very least. Much running around with a tupperware and likely many tunnels being performed while I am standing there hollering, "GOOOOOOOO!!!!"
Musical Saw Festival with Lumberjacks at Roaring Camp
I had to pick fun match over this. Maybe if I get back in time I cam still go. Musical saws and lumberjacks and trains! Right?

Saturday August 16-D+B Wedding!
I will take all the photos! I will wear a skort so I can crawl around on the ground to do this! I will go to work SO early to get off early and I promise I won't be late!

Sunday August 17
Therapy Dog Day for Gustavo
Master's Gambler's Seminar with Rob
In which we will go and learn secrets to turn our dogs into Hobbes. Who you can sit in a plastic chair at one edge of a ring, and point out at the other end, casually mention, Jump, Jump, Tire, Tunnel, Poles, and have go and just run across the ring doing the stuff you just asked for. Hobbes is the rocket scientist of border collies. Although Rob already told me most of the problems I have in getting the gambles keeping my dogs from ADChs (such as always hitting the bar out of the gamble, gamblers classes always happening on Saturday while I am at work, ability to perform fancy and tricky gambles practicing the next day AFTER a dog show but not during) are the work of supernatural forces attacking me and will not be addressed. I have a lucky tattoo now so I'm coming to learn some dog training science anyways. And I can always still just do all the fun stuff with Hobbes.

Saturday August 23
Sunday August 24
SMART USDAA in Prunedale
I am glad that my own personal address is not in Prunedale. Prunedale. It's full of sloughs and strawberry fields, never once seen a prune there. What a crappy name someone gave that place. It's the one place I could afford to buy my own ranch around here, that gives you a hint of the popularity of Prunedale. Gary would never move there in a million years. It is a swell place to have a dog show though, and it is a super fast drive to the barn! Allowing a weekend of running of back and forth and missing walk throughs! Along with those gamlers Q's.

Friday August 29
Saturday August 30
Sunday August 31
Monday September 1
Bayteam USDAA Regionals in Prunedale
Did you know the only way I'm typing the letter "b" right now is by copying and pasting it? Different ones for capital or not capital? In this long and newsy itinerary, there have been so many b's and next thursday I relinquish my computer to the computer shop for a new keyboard. Thank god. This dog show is huge, lots of giant motorhomes and faster dogs than my dogs to beat the pants off Team Small Dog. Where I have choked in Steeplechase Finals year after year! This year taking place close to work allowing attendance all days, stressful driving back and forth to work, yet all with my new lucky Timmy tattoo! And better trained dogs. Maybe gamblers curse removed. Will be swell this year!

Jump skills-a primer.

All right. All the time, people ask me, "What highly scientific dog training methods do you use there at Team Small Dog to teach your dogs the magic of the dog agility?"

All right. No one ever asks me that. No one at all. They just think, show up at the dog show, run around fast, and maybe win a prize. Ha! Is called, we try to practice. You know, we go before work, and we go to Dirt Nite. And this weekend, we go to a Fun Match. Practice Dog Show. Where you can take a Gustavo and a tupperware out on the field and run around some. And practice some more with the other dogs since the big dog shows are coming up in August.

How do I decide what to practice? Is based on the highly scientific method of how late to work am I? We do courses at Dirt Nite, so practice time is little drills I carefully plan out at night make up as I go along to cover stuff we might be, ahem, deficit in. Distance. Jumping without hitting bars and doing crackhead handling that scares the dogs. Contacts. Everything with Gustavo.

Here's a nice example for you. A little sequence that has a 270, a threadle, a U-turn into a straight line, a front cross. Sort of like ben and jerry's ice cream that has all the crap in there to dig out. A long island iced tea. but my non dog agility friends, look at how I wiggle and turn and this and that to make the dog leap and turn. There is the magic skills. My tattoo'ed friends, you can do this with or without tattoos and even without a dog and it is called 80's aerobics with Olivia Newton John. Is more cooler with a dog. Can't tell you if having the tatttoo makes it cooler. Possibly not. but maybe luckier?

How to Get a Tattoo for Dog Agility Ladies-A primer.

First of all, I worked hard at getting a tattoo. Been planning it for years. Had hundreds of different drawings and fussed and fretted and never did it. Was worried I wouldn't like it in 10 years and abandoned ship. Figured now by the time this one is old and fadey, I will be too.

I am a total tattoo stalker, possibly weird for someone not tattooed. I like to stare at your tattoos, and critique them silently and ruthlessly. I am picky. Putting that MFA to good use and have learned to spot a nice tattoo like a needle in a haystack. because many tattoos you see might be crappy! That's right! Sorry if you have a tattoo I think is crappy. I think a lot of design and art is crappy, so it's not just you. So you gotta make sure you find a tattooer that is allergic to crappy. In a good shop. Where you all share a similar aesthetic.

Maybe a shop like Samuel O'Reilly Tattoo Shop in Santa Cruz. In the cute gray house right on Hwy 1. Maybe you drive by it every day and you see the tatttooed people smoking on the porch in all black clothes. Where they only do custom work and I am told no one there does crappy tattoos ever. The boss, Klem, had a waiting list til November to get a tattoo, but I only had to wait til August for my appointment with Eduardo. And I had carefully scoured his stuff on his website and thought he looked skilled. Wanted someone skilled and ideally with some gray hairs and a long life of tattooing already. If you said to Eduardo, "Hey, make up any you tattoo want on my arm!" he would probably prefer to do a super creepy and ghouly skull, because you can never have too many skulls. But he is a longtime pro, and is happy to do good tattoos even if aren't creepy.

Edu, you are a nice man and I am proud to say you are my tattooer. Most customers are not dog agility ladies that come in armed with a stack of sketches and drawings and printouts of good and bad tattoos and want to sit there for an hour and discuss. And draw on top of your drawing. It was my way of interviewing him. I am picky. He is stabbing a permanent drawing with needles onto my arm. I can be picky. I told him I was sort of a mean lady and he thought that was funny. I was the only one in there without neck tattoos and letters on my fingers and an all black outfit-slimming! They were still nice to me. Their shop is a freakishly clean, restored old home and all the guys have carefully restored vintage cars and trucks and bikes and that made me feel happy instead of some goth place with ugly wall finishes that does a lot of walk-in fairy tattoos. There are no walk-in fairy tattoos at Samuel O'Reilly's. Or ugly finishes. Sorry my friends, if you have a fairy tattoo. Do you still like it?

So after enduring my long winded list of every abstract concept and aesthetic device in terms of tattoo style I needed in one little tattoo, I gave him my stack of drawings. And then I started emailing Edu more drawings and sketches and photos of the perfect horseshoe and more ideas. We ended up editing the idea down considerably so it would fit on my arm under my shirt. I am very worried about sun fading my tattoo since I work outside. Plan ahead! They fade! And think concise. You might have ideas for more tattoos, don't throw 'em all in one if you are not doing your whole back or your whole arm. I think I am set for a whole back's worth of tattoos someday. I totally see why people have them EVERYWHERE now.

It is highly likely you will be the only dog agility lady in there getting your tattoo. And it might be at night. Tattoo folk seem to be night folk. Like us at Dirt Nite! Don't worry. If it's a nice shop, they will be nice to you. I liked hanging out in there and listening to complicated and heated discussions about where the skeleton hands should go on the drummer's tattoo. It is like being a graphic designer except you are going to permanently stab it on skin. Way harder I think. And make sure you like your tattoo artist. You have to sit there with them stabbing you for hours to get your tattoo. It would be good for your tattoo if your artist likes you, too. We liked each other, right Edu? How many dog agility ladies do you tattoo every week? Right! Not Very Many! He says I will be back for more. Thinks I am a total tattoo lady. We'll see. I guess I have that whole back free as of now.

Here is one fact you have always wanted to know. No, it does not hurt. At least where I got mine on my arm. Like not even a stitch. Dental work is like 50 million times worse. It is actually sort of cool, the whole time you are thinking, "Wow those needles are drawing into my skin foreverness" and it makes you HAPPY! Love tattoos! Although, if you want a tattoo on your neck, that would hurt. There is the badass factor of only badass tattoo people get them on their neck so you don't care about the pain even though it hurts. Sort of a little insider tattoo fact there for you, if you were thinking of a neck tattoo. I am thinking, no neck tattoo. Not even for the badass factor.

Also, Edu told me many warnings about bacteria and dirt and infection and lotion. Things you do not normally hear from a big guy in all black with tattoos on every square inch of his skin. And neck. I don't want an infected Timmy tattoo! I am washing and lotioning exactly like you said, Edu.

It's simple and classic. A lucky horseshoe, and a memorial banner for my Timmy. Black and gray, goes with everything. Will heal in a couple weeks and I know I will love it as much as I do today. And maybe even more. Timmy forever goes with me, I look down, and left, and he's right there.

In today's episode, time to share what we got!

It says Timmy. Thanks Edu!

Happy [Letter prior to C yet after A] irthday Gary.

Happy Irthday Gary.


He likes dogs too.


They like him too. Otterpop will howl for you as soon as we start singing the Irthday Song, during which we can actually use missing letter. What a relief.

In this episode, we learn how to type using 25 letters of the alpha-something.

I can't tell you where I took these photos. Not porque it is some kind of important secret, rather porque last night I spilled a cerveza on my computer and the letter located after A and prior to C, if you were singing a song that used those 3 letters, doesn't work anymore. You speak some Spanish, right? So I can still use my computer and type stuff, unless it uses that one certain letter. That's why I have to say cerveza. The real thing I spilled starts with that letter. It's also hard to make a space. I am pounding that spacing key very, very diligently here.


This secret place is known for sand and water and wind and sun. I go there a lot. Dogs run there. They might chase flying animals with feathers. It's a nice place to enjoy a cool drink made from hops and grains and stuff like that.


Oh yeah. And the little key that has an clover and an apple on it doesn't work. You don't have this if you have a pc.


So who knows how to fix malt liquid soaked computer keys? I am pretty sure I am going to need that letter soon.

In this episode, Project Runway once again nearly puts us to sleep.

I went to watch Project Runway on old fashioned analog tape. The problem was, they were wearing rain ponchos and driving around on a double decker bus to get inspiration from New York City at night. Like I almost couldn't stand it. It involved drizzling and arty shots with cheapo digital cameras. And then Keith, the gay mormon from Utah, made this thing out of little scraps of paper. I think they were actually fabric scraps but let's just say they were little scraps of direct mail pieces. And then it was Michael Kors and he came crawling out of the tanning booth with Blayne and before that they had their teeth whitened together, the little hussies. Seems like a conflict of interest is what I think. Both of them baring their teeth at each other on the runway like "grrrrrrrr...tiger!" Whitened and sharpened little pointy teeth, sticking out of orange faces like pumpkins that scare Gustavo. Who was also scared of the giant neon bows that exploded off Blayne's model.

And so then it just made more sense to have a puppet show with the dogs. We decided to act out the demise of Kurt Cobain under the rule of Courtney Love, because I am trying to teach Gustavo that he doesn't really need to be so scared of stuff without Otterpop around. And we all know what happened to poor Kurt. Recently I used scientific method to determine that Gustavo is scared of agility if Otterpop is in the car but he is an insane agility freak when she in his general vicinity. And it is sort of freaking me out in a Kurt/Courtney faux happy on the cover of Sassy Magazine cover only a short time before he had to shoot himself in the head kind of way. So I believe that we will do educational puppet shows on the topic until we sort of wean him from Otterpop. Sort of like homeschooling with the puppets and all. You need puppets for homeschooling, right? Not sure if Heidi and Seal homeschool their carefully bred little brood, or if the rule of Heidi will drive Seal to the same bitter end as Kurt. Certainly not if Tim Gunn is a good friend and talks everyone down off their tree. Kurt just didn't have a Tim Gunn in his life.

Still trying to figure out how to get this across to Gustavo. Hope the puppet show was the right plan.