He's a Ruff 'n' Tuff Pup

I’m so proud of my boy...he showed his protective side in the last preagility class. There’s a crazy border collie (is that redundant?) in class, and he was taking his turn going through a series of obstacles. He ran out of the chute towards another dog, who fiercely protected her toy. That growl sent him veering away from her, straight toward me. To my great surprise, Duncan popped up like somebody’d poked him in the butt and lunged at the border collie. If I’d not grabbed his scruff - and if the border collie hadn’t shown some intelligence and immediately turned the other direction - Duncan might actually have made contact. The official response, of course, is “Bad dog. We don’t do that.” But the real response is “Good boy! Mommy’s so proud of you for protecting her! That’s my good Dunkin-punkin!”

Duncan's First Routine

Duncan performed his first canine freestyle routine last night - it was required for him to pass the class. And he did a wonderful job. He did so well, in fact, that we're entering the WCFO video competition later in December. We'll clean the routine up a bit, find appropriate clothes for me, and submit an entry. I'm so proud of him!

A Sign That I Definitely Need Some Time Off....

Last night, I got home from work about an hour and a half late, which usually isn’t too bad, but it was dark and cold and I was grumpy. So I put on my usual after-work attire – sweats and slippers. I’ve been really sleepy lately, and I think its because my Tegratol (John calls them my “Death Meds”) dose has been doubled, and these are extended release, which is probably why I’m feeling it more in the afternoon and early evening. I didn’t doze on the couch last night, but I did come close to it. I realized about 8:45 that Reyna has managed to lick another hole in her tail, so I made a point of staying awake so I could keep her from messing with it.

But on to why I need time off... When I was getting ready for bed last night, I wanted my slippers next to the bed, because those Pergo floors are freaking cold in the morning (no rugs yet, because I keep picturing the cats horking up all over them and can’t bring myself to spend the money) and I like to put on my slippers before my poor feet hit those nasty cold floors. The last place I remembered seeing them was by the foot of the bed, so I looked around the bed, under the afghan, and then got down on the floor and looked under the bed. No slippers. I looked in the closet. Twice. No slippers. I was getting really annoyed, asking the cats what they’d done with my slippers. I even checked the bathroom. No slippers. As I was headed back to the closet to check one more time, I head a noise that made me look down. Lo and behold, I found my slippers! ON MY FEET. Sigh.