Wow--9 comments

I got NINE comments on my blog yesterday--that's more than in the whole previous two years combined. Being a dog and all, what that says to me is that I should quit every day (e.g. some behavior got a particular desired response). My person said I couldn't, though. Human rules really are far too illogical, but since I don't have the opposable thumbs, I'm somewhat at their mercy for some of my creative endeavors (others I am quite good at all by myself, like skillfully removing cat food from the kitchen counter. My people don't appreciate my creative talents nearly enough, however.)

Here's a picture of me with my gal pal, Tansy, just for those of you who love speckle faces (I'm in back)


Anyway, I realize I've gotten a little far from my original flyball focus, so I wanted to explain my training exercise from yesterday. Like I posted previously, since I let the people know that I like to turn right, not left, I have to re-learn my turn. So, my person had me catching the ball off the wall. That means she threw it so it bounced once on the floor, hit the wall and the bounced off and I was supposed to catch it off the wall. That simulates it coming out of the box. She was laughing and having fun, so I did too. My catch off the real box improved some, so that was good.

My other activities yesterday included continuing work on Rafe's education about doggy manners. That boy has one thick skull. Here's a picture of him. My people really like him because he looks so a-typical.

Even the people in the Border Collie rescue group where Tansy came from weren't sure he was a border collie. My people have some papers, though, with a lot of funny names like "Snip" and "Wisp", places like "Isle of Man" and "Ireland", and some marks that mean "International Champion" on them and they say that means he is BC through and through. They have papers like that for all four of us BCs in the family. Like I said, humans are kind of hard to figure sometimes. Does it really matter that much?

BC or not, he is one rude youngster. Just this morning, he laid down right in front of me and just stared. Then, when I showed him my ferocious teeth, he laid over on his side, still staring and actually touched my paw with his nose. Well, you can understand how appalled I was, I'm sure. Tansy was saying "move away, move away, move away" as only she can, but it took a low growl from me to finally get the big oaf to move back to his side of the room. Trying, trying times at my house. Thank goodness for flyball and sheep.

Today's lesson?
Don't try to understand people rules unless they affect you directly. They affect you if the human is holding a toy or food or making a clicky sound or calling your name or giving another dog attention