Hello. It’s me!!
I’m at a point in my diet where I’m more than happy to eat a finger. Especially pinky fingers, because they are largely useless, amirite? Oh, wait, you need a pinky finger to hit the enter key. Nevermind.
Did you see the bruise on Mom’s foot? Here’s a closer look.
Mom stepped on one of my chewies … I have chewies strategically placed all over the house … I’d rather gnaw on rawhide than eat dried-and-pressed meat byproducts. So if Mom has to deal with painful bruises, so be it. All problems can be fixed by a morsel of string cheese.
Anyway, there’s BIG NEWS in my life. No, it’s not about getting neutered in 36 hours, whatever that means and I’m sure whatever that it includes fun and playtime so no need to worry about anything on that front. The big news happened over Labor Day Weekend. While you were grilling steaks over charcoal (#jealous), I was at EARTH DOG!!!
What. An. Event!
I knew we were in for BIG FUN when I saw the sign at the entrance to the event.
The sign has two things that I love … the opportunity to chase a rat … and the opportunity to diagnose a rusted metal threat.
Count me in!
Then things really got interesting. I’m looking across the facility, and I see MY BROTHER RUGER!!!
We caught up on what has all happened since back in winter when we last met. I was like “you look great Ruger” and he was like “you look like a link of metwurst” and I was like “yeah but you’re not going to body shame me today because we’re here to get the rat” and he was like “I’m sorry” and I was like “no need to apologize because we’re here to get the rat” and he was like “I really miss you” and I was like “yeah and I really miss you” and he was like “remember when we used to run outside through the dog door?” and I was like “#goodmemories” and he was like “let’s go get the rat” and I was like “k-dude”.
So my breeder, one of my #favs, introduced Ruger and I to the grounds.
I know, there’s really nothing like a chilly, drizzle-filled day of gray gloom in early September, is there? You could have taken the picture in February and you couldn’t tell the difference. But honestly, I enjoyed the thirty-five day summer of 2016, I really feel like I got as much out of it as is humanly possible … or caninely possible … or whatever the term is I am supposed to use. Squirrel!!!!!
Back to the story.
So here’s the deal. I had to participate in a Beginner’s Class. Event organizers set up the schedule.
I thought Pistil really shot through the course, though Wiley took a clever route and Sailor navigated choppy waters and Chica, well, you know all about Chica, right? No? Anyway, I digress. My job was to pick up the smell of rats, then dive into a ten foot long tunnel with a 90 degree turn in the middle of the tunnel #pitchblack, get to the rats (who are caged – no animals were harmed in the creation of this blog post), then dig at or under the cage while biting the cage and barking at the rats. If all of that is accomplished, then I pass and earn a coveted Qualifying Score.
The key, of course, is that Dad isn’t allowed to say anything other than “Get The Rat” just one time, as he releases me into the course.
Dad holds me back.
Tension fills the air … the same kind of tension that an audience of 40,000 feel when they are about to watch Usain Bolt run a hundred meters.
Mouths become dry.
But in spite of how Dad felt, I was ready to go!!
Off I ran to the hole.
The event planners play all sorts of mind games … like having a judge at the end of the course. I wanted to skip the course altogether and just go say HI to the judge, because people seem to like meeting me and why bother with the course when I could just cut out the middleman and say HI to the judge? #Logic
The judge was having none of that. She held up a piece of paper (she can’t tell me what to do) in an effort to block my progress. Her tactics worked! I began to enter the tunnel.
And then I thought to myself, “I need to see what is written on that piece of paper!”
At this point, the whole process is breaking down and all hope is nearly lost. The judge asks Dad to tap on the entrance to the tunnel. Then … things begin to change … my instincts began to kick in.
And I say to myself, “GET THE RAT!!!”
I’m gone, pups. GONE!
Nine feet later, the judge allows Dad to see what I am up to.
Oh, I’m going for it, pups!
Here’s a video sample of the live action … please visit the website if you cannot see this video in your email client.
So, for those of you scoring at home.
- Enter The Tunnel = Check.
- Navigate The Tunnel = Check.
- Dig Under The Rat Cage = Check.
- Bark At The Rat Cage = Check.
- Bite At The Rat Cage = Check.
- Let Dad Pull Me From The Tunnel Without Backing Out = Check.
- Run The Course Again Because It Is Sooooooo Much Fun = Check!
- Earn A Qualifying Score = CHECK!!!!!
I was SOOOOOOOOOO excited to receive my ribbon!
Again, no rats were harmed in this process. If the rats were not in a cage, I probably would have pulled them from the tunnel and lightly damaged them via puncture wounds obtained from the biting motion of my incisors, but other than that, everything would have been just fine.
When Dad pulled me from the tunnel, my brisket and legs were covered in sand. I doubt there was a better feeling in the whole world than what I experienced at that very moment!
I was the only pup in my group who earned a Qualifying Score. It seems I have a knack for this. I cannot wait for the next opportunity to advance through harder courses. I cannot wait to see Ruger again.
What. A. Fun. Event!!