Sunday, May 30, 2010

More summer fun

Another pool party this evening after some work on go-outs and the UKC #2 glove exercise. So I put the hose in the pool, flipped the handle on the pump and this is what happens. Pretty typical. Digging at the water makes it come out of the hose faster.

But the shot I missed was Jamie stepping into the pool, grabbing the end of the hose and taking off with it, spraying water everywhere! Holy crap! Do you know how cold water is when it comes out of a 140-foot deep well?! Obviously I'm not filling the dogs' pool from our fancy-schmancy pay-for-every-gallon rural water line. It's straight out of Mother Earth and let me tell ya, Mother Earth is chillin'.

Anyway, there were a few exciting seconds when I was trying to keep me and the camera from getting soaked, while getting those hose away from Jamie before he turned it into a sprinkler. Although since it was a pretty warm evening, I have to admit it did feel kinda good.

Here's Phoenix, doing a lovely underwater retrieve for his ball. And people are amazed when my dogs beat the goldens and labs at their own game by retrieving mini pumpkins and gourds out of a tub full of water at the club Halloween party. Honestly, I do NOT train this. It's all the dogs' idea. They love their ball and the fact it's underwater doesn't stop them. By the time we have the Halloween party in October, they've spent all summer and early fall power-retrieving stuff out of water.

Training update: Phoenix's go-outs are good enough (at least in familiar places, need to take this show on the road) that I felt confident introducing the short go-out and sit we'll need for the second glove exercise in UKC obedience. He did a lovely job when I stopped him short, quick response with no hesitation and didn't even seem baffled about being told to sit before he got to the gate. He got a big reward for being so brilliant. Then I sent him on a full-length go-out. He ran exactly half way, turned and sat. Where's my cookie?

Sigh. Why run 50 feet for a cookie when you can run 25 feet and get the same cookie? This confusion stage is pretty typical. It's kinda like teaching the drop on recall and then the dog wants to drop on every recall, whether you ask him to or not. So we did a couple of long ones with me running him out to his "Go away!" spot, then a long one by himself, which he rocked, and we called it a night.


Friday, May 28, 2010

Team Orange moon

Did you see the full moon last night? It was beautiful. I took these pics on the way home from agility class. The moon could have been the mascot for Team Orange! By the time I got home, it was normal moon-colored.


According to KWWL meteorologists, this full moon is called a full Flower Moon. Flowers spring up in abundance this month. Some Algonquin tribes knew this full moon as the Corn Planting Moon or the Milk Moon.

Have a great Memorial Day weekend, everyone! I have a huge to-do list, as usual, and can't wait to get started.


Thursday, May 27, 2010

Sleepless night #2

3:18 a.m.

I am sleeping. The Farmer is sleeping. Phoenix is sleeping on his fuzzy by the bed. Jamie has rearranged his fuzzy to his liking and is sleeping half on/half off of it.

“MEOW-HISS-YOWL-HISS-HISS-YOWL-MEORRRRR!!!!!”

The mother of all cat fights breaks out underneath our bedroom window (our bedroom is on the ground floor).

Me sitting straight up in bed: For the love of doG, why do they have to do that right under the window! (Truly, this is one of the joys of sleeping with windows open in the summer.)

Farmer, not even opening an eye: #$%@-ing cats!

Jamie: Yawn. Cats are boring. ZZZZZ

Phoenix, ricocheting around the bedroom: CAT FIGHT! CAT FIGHT! Lemme at ‘em!

Me: Knock it off. You’re not going out there.

Phoenix, leaping onto the bed, over me, over the Farmer and perching with his front paws on the window sill and back paws on the bed: Can’t knock it off! CAT FIGHT! CAT FIGHT! I can make them stop! I’ll bark out the window! That’ll fix ‘em. WOOOOO-WOOOOO-WOOOOOO-WOOOOO!

Me: Your brain needs fixed.

Cats continue to yowl obscenities at one another.

Phoenix: You think you’re so tough! You wanna piece of this!? WOOOOO-WOOOOO-WOOOOOO-WOOOOO!

Farmer: Now I’m deaf.

Me: What?

Jamie: Cats are stupid. I’d rather have a raccoon. ZZZZZ

Cats: YOWLYOWLYOWLYOWLMEORRRRRRR!

Phoenix, bouncing back across the bed, onto the floor and racing out of the room: I’ll check all the other windows, in case there’s been a security breach!

Sound of malinois paws racing from room to room. THUD! Sound of dining room chair being knocked over, followed by thunks of paws hitting window sills in each room, followed by paws returning to bedroom and screeching to a stop on my side of the bed.

Phoenix: I can’t see any cats. You have to turn me loose, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

Me: You just ran into a chair in the dining room.

Phoenix: Oh, sorry about that. I wanna chase a cat. NOW!

Me: No. Not happening.

Phoenix: You are no fun.

Jamie: Kid, will ya just go back to sleep.

Me: Deprive me of another night’s sleep and you’ll see “no fun.”

Phoenix: And you’re crabby . . . fine . . . going to sleep. I’ll get me a cat one of these days.

Me: Ahh, peace . . .

SCREECH-SCREAM-YODEL-SCREECH!!!!

Me and The Farmer: $#%!-ing raccoons!

Jamie: RACCOON FIGHT! RACCOON FIGHT!

And my co-workers wonder why I am the way I am some mornings.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

A good night's sleep, NOT!

11:15 p.m. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles.

Jamie: Oooooh, this is not good. Not good at all.

Me: Go back to sleep, it’s just a little thunderstorm.

Jamie: Noooooo, it’s Armageddon.

Me: It is NOT Armageddon. You’re fine.

Jamie: Not fine. Terrible. Horrible. Awful.

Me: All right, you can come up on the bed. But you have to stay at the foot. It’s hot.

Jamie (launching onto bed): Okay, not quite as terrible.

Phoenix: Me, too?

Me: No. You are not a storm freak. Stay on the floor. It’s too warm for dogs on the bed.

Phoenix: You let that big furry thing up there.

Me: He’s having a meltdown. This makes him feel better.

Phoenix: Can I have a meltdown?

Me: No. You are FINE. Go to sleep.

Lightning crashes and thunder rolls.

Jamie: Ooooooh, it’s terrible, horrible, awful.

Me: It’s just a little t-storm, nothing severe. No watches. No warnings.

Jamie (crawls half way up the bed): Doesn’t matter. Hate storms. Scary.

Phoenix: I should sleep on the bed, too.

Me: You’re fine on the floor. Be still.

Phoenix: %$#@!

Jamie: Maybe we should go to the basement.

Me: We are NOT going to the basement.

Jamie: %$#@!

Phoenix (leaping onto the bed): Here I come! Whee!

Me: Ooooooof! Get off my stomach. All right, lie down and be still. You can stay.

Phoenix (licking my face): I love you! I love you! I love you!

More lightning and thunder; rain is falling heavily.

Jamie crawls the rest of the way up between me and the Farmer, heaves a big sigh and puts his head down.

Farmer: Does that dog want his own pillow?

Me: I think he wants you to leave so he can have your spot.

Farmer: %$#@!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

More pics from nationals

HUGE thanks to Angela Silvestri, who owns several of Phoenix's kin, for taking these great shots at nationals. You can never have too many pictures of your dogs. This was on the first day of agility, before things got totally waterlogged.

Up and over! Yee-haw!


Bunny hop!


The start of a big 4-jump loop.
And I'm already half a jump behind.
Go, go, go!


A jump for Phoenix and a jump for me!
Only I didn't take my jump.
Maybe I'm hailing a taxi to get me around
the rest of the course.


A great shot.
I'm not in it.


Go big or go home!


Phoenix: I meant to do that.
Me: Really? Why?
Nix: Cuz you don't have any pics of me crashing a jump.
Me: Malinois logic is a strange thing.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Weekend fun

The mercury hit 90 degrees today, which is practically unheard of in these parts this time of year. July, yes. May, no. It's supposed to be unseasonably hot all week. The Farmer is happy. He's making first cutting hay.

Phoenix and I spent the morning and early afternoon at the 4RK9s trial. We got back in the Open ring this weekend. He already has his U-CDX so it was a relatively stress-free weekend, more of a progress check than anything else. 

The club dedicated the trials to the late Kay Lowe. They held a little memorial service Saturday morning and of course there wasn't a dry eye in the place. They had printed up a collection of people's memories of Kay and it was fun to read what everyone wrote. Kay held a special place in so many people's hearts.

Phoenix did a good job. Saturday his work was a little  . . . um . . . casual . . . but he held his stays, GOOD BOY, and placed 4th w/193.5.

Today he apparently woke up and remembered (sort of) how Open was supposed to work. With the exception of walking in after the drop (were did THAT come from? geez, it's always something), I was pretty happy with his work. We ended up in a run-off with Peggy's DeeDee. What are the odds, the only to malinois in the trial and we end up tied. It was our first UKC-style run-off and Phoenix won it! To be honest, I'm not sure he realized he was in the ring with the ever so lovely DeeDee only two feet away or that heel free could have gotten REAL exciting. We ended with a 197 for 2nd place.

Then we came home, I watered flowers and hauled out the baby pool for the dogs. Actually, this was in self defense. I left the hose running and Phoenix was having a little too much fun pouncing on the spraying water. A section of our yard now looks like the agility ring at mal  nationals on Friday afternoon.

"See, you have to bite the water!"
"Um, yeah, whatever."

"Splish, splash, this is totally cool!"
"So is eating grass."


"Put your paw on it, like this, and hold it down."
"Why?"

"Cuz then it sprays you in the face!"
"Dude, you're weird. I'm outta here."

Friday, May 21, 2010

Don't call me . . .

. . . I'll call you!

Last night as I walked into the kitchen after agility class, the phone started ringing. It was 9:15 p.m. At our house, "late" phone calls like this usually mean something is on fire or on the loose. They occasionally mean the renters at our property just up the road forgot to fill the fuel oil tanks and their furnace quit and would The Farmer please come fix it because it's -28 outside. (I guess it never crosses their minds to check the fuel level until it's obvious there isn't any. Whatever.) Since it was 58 degrees and raining, I doubted it was the renters.

Anticipating some sort of impending disaster involving fire or errant cattle, I grabbed up the phone and an obvious non-native speaker of English asked for me. It was a telemarketer.

My blood was boiling! I HATE telemarketers. We're on the no-call list but hey, if you have established a "relationship" with a business they can call you anyway and believe me, they do. My credit card company calls incessantly with this promotion or that offer. Does anyone really want to sign up for a consumer protection plan at 9:15 at night? They win the oblivious award for ignoring the fact I've refused every single one of their offers for years and years but yet they keep calling. Hope springs eternal.

"Where are you calling from?" I asked. What I should have asked was, "What business are you calling from?" because after a moment's hesitation, the telemarketer said, rather timidly, "India."

India? Freaking INDIA?

"Do you have ANY IDEA what time it is here?" I asked.

Pause. Silence.

"No. I'm sorry ma'am. So sorry, ma'am."

"If you want to do business with us, call during business hours. Not the middle of the night!" I hung up. Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly the middle of the night but hey, she didn't know that. And she can call back all she wants during "business hours." Unless Jamie starts answering the phone or The Farmer picks up the extension in the machine shed, she's not likely to get an answer.

Good grief. Whatever happened to calling at a reasonable hour? Of course, I think a reasonable hour for telemarketers is half past never but that's just my opinion.

Grumble. Grumble. Grumble. At least nothing was on fire and no need for a rodeo. I'm going back to letting the machine pick up from now on.