Today was the first annual Texas Agility Shoot-Out, a two-day agility trial whose goal is to raise money for Canine Cancer. There were classes from a few different venues to choose from. There were over 1100 runs for the whole day, and over 260 dogs enterred. I had two of those 260 dogs, and ran three of those 1100 runs. I stayed for two of the several different classes. One was called Jumpin' Judge Roy Bean, and the other was Run for the Border. Run for the Border was a NADAC-style Tunnelers course, which means there was nothing but tunnels in the ring. This is just a fun class for dogs who are inexperienced or people looking for an easier class to run. I ran it with my beginner dog, CJ, and gave it a shot with my other dog, Pearl, who has been doing this for a while longer but has recently been extremely stressed in the ring, to the point of running out of the ring. Jumpin' Judge Roy Bean was a CPE-style Jumpers course, which means that the course was made up of easy obstacles like jumps and tunnels(that was all that was in this course). This is another good beginner course, but I didn't dare try it just yet with CJ, as this was his very first trial.
The Tunnelers course was fun and fast, with lots of circles. Pearl was my first to go, as she was jumping 16", although it didn't really matter because there were no jumps. She did the first couple of tunnels and then went to see the photographer before heading toward the gate. She stopped there and looked back at me(I was calling her, even squatting down to see if that would get her to come back to me) and waggled her butt like she does when she's happy (she's an Aussie; you can't expect anything less from a tail-less dog). She looked like she just wanted to play, but as soon as I got up and started toward her, she darted for the gate again. Now, at another trial site we were going to for a good while before today, Pearl was extremely stressed and had been running from the ring the past two times we went. Only it wasn't a happy kind of stress. At Rendon, you could tell that she was scared and unhappy. She just wanted out. I was kind of hoping that she wouldn't do that here in Fort Worth, but I had already made my decision regardless. Pearl, who was my first agility dog, is going to be retired this year. She has always been very patient with me and learned at my pace; she was the perfect starter-dog for me. But from the time we got her from the Humane Society, she has always been very sensitive to everything. She never liked the camera and she used to be extremely shy, among other things. She's come a long way from that, but I don't think she'll ever be completely desensitized to the show ring. So I've made the decision to retire her, so she can just relax at home and be a couch-potatoe. Of course, I'll probably still take her to class occasionally, because she really does like going to practice, she's just not good in the ring. But anyway, I would rather her go to her last show and enjoy herself than to be scared and stressed like she was in Rendon.
C. J.'s very first show was today, and I must say that he did extremely well. He did a lot better than any of us expected. I had faith that he would finish the course, and sure enough, he did. Naturally, he got excited and went to visit a few times and ran around, but that's to be expected on his first run. He did the first two tunnels, went to see the judge and a ring steward, but then came back to me when he figured out they had nothing much to offer. I got him back on track and he did the next few obstacles fast and clean, but then he saw the photographer and had to go say 'hi'. After he was done with the photographer and got a few little "zoomies" out of his system, he came back to me and we finished the last half of the course clean and really fast. He made me run faster than I do at practice! But he never once took an obstacle out of turn, nor did he have any fault points. Basically we just lost time when he went to visit people. But I was so happy that he actually finished the course and came back to me. I honestly half-way expected him to go crazy his first time in the ring, and just totally ignore me, but he is certainly a better dog than I could ever have hoped. Needless to say, I am VERY proud of my boy for being so good today. I can't wait to see what pictures the photographer got of him!
In Jumpers I just ran Pearl, because I didn't want to pay the $15 to have CJ go out and just run all over the place (not that we didn't lose $15 anyway). It's for a good cause, but $15 is still expensive. Anyway, Pearls' run still didn't go very well, even though she seemed to have even more fun with this one than the last. She went in and took the first two jumps like a bullet, and I swear I thought for a second she was actually going to do more of the course than the first two obstacles. But no. Just as I was getting my hopes up and trying to recover from this burst of speed, she turned and went to visit the judge, and then ran off. I tried, again, to get her back, but she was just having too much fun by herself. She went and did a few laps around the course randomly (though she didn't take any jumps except for the ending tunnel) and acting all happy, which makes me laugh now, but I can't remember if I laughed or just smiled when I was in the ring. She just went and had her fun and then once again ran from the ring, where somebody caught her until I could get a leash on her. I was kind of expecting her to run again, but I was kind of surprised at how excited and happy she looked. And again, I would rather her be happy and out of it than upset.
Overall, I think today was a really good day. Wonderful, even. I'm going to get started getting C.J.'s AKC and NADAC registrations in, and then get him to more shows so we can see his true potential. After what I saw today, I think he is going to be a great agility show dog. I am very excited to get him into some more trials and hopefully get some titles on him. And Pearl just gets to hang out here at the house and live out the rest of her life as my baby girl. I'm sure I'll have lots of updates on C.J.'s trial life, so be prepared for lots of agility talk and pictures! Hopefully by Monday I'll have pictures posted here of both Pearl and C.J.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Labradoodle Sense
I just read an article on AOL about the breeder of the very first "on-purpose" Labradoodle. He says he regrets what he started, because he started a trend that went off the charts in an extremely short amount of time. Of course, this might seem like a good thing, but no. Not when you get down to the American outlook on just about everything.
You see, the Labradoodle was meant to be a service dog. The original breeder is actually a service dog trainer. He bred the Labradoodle because he had a client whose husband was extremely allergic to dogs, but who badly needed a seeing-eye dog. He meant for the dogs to be used as helpful companions and life-savers. But what ended up happening was that everyone went and bought a Labradoodle from anywhere they could get it. Don't get me wrong, they are a wonderful solution to the family that wants a dog but has allergic members. However, because these dogs became so suddenly popular, several people saw these dogs as a way to make some quick cash. This problem exists even with purebred dogs, and it has for a long time, and probably always will. Still, that doesn't make it right. These dogs were not meant for people to make money off of them, they were meant to do good and to have a purpose.
This article that I just read also mentioned that there are people who are trying to get the Labradoodle recognized as a breed. This is frustrating, because these people obviously don't know what defines a breed. A breed takes way longer than a few years to develope. Most of the purebred dogs you see are the product of selective breeding and several generations of dogs. These breeds did not suddenly appear in less than a decade to become what they are now. For instance, the Labradoodle is not guaranteed in the second generation to be completely allergy-free. Only a few out of every second-gen litter are hypoallergenic. In order to become a true breed with that trait, it would take a lot more selective breeding and decades of work on the part of breeders everywhere for the Labradoodle to become the well-developed breed that it has the potential to be, and that many others have already become. I'm sure Labradoodles are great dogs, but I don't believe the cross in general has what it takes to become a recognized breed at this stage in the game. It took centuries for every other breed-or at least the ones recognized by the AKC-to be recognized as a breed, because they were bred for a long time and all the dogs of that breed shared many of the same traits. This is what constitutes a breed. Not the popularity. Ha. Those last two sentances summed it all up.
I really wish people would get some common sense. The way America is right now, everyone expects things to happen over night, and it doesn't work like that. Especially when it comes to animals, people just have no common sense or courtesy. No one takes the time to examine the situation, and it causes problems. I hate this about the human race, but there isn't much I can do about it now, is there? But anyway, enough of my ranting about peoples' stupidity(although you'll probably see a lot more of these rants from me in the future, I'm sure).
You see, the Labradoodle was meant to be a service dog. The original breeder is actually a service dog trainer. He bred the Labradoodle because he had a client whose husband was extremely allergic to dogs, but who badly needed a seeing-eye dog. He meant for the dogs to be used as helpful companions and life-savers. But what ended up happening was that everyone went and bought a Labradoodle from anywhere they could get it. Don't get me wrong, they are a wonderful solution to the family that wants a dog but has allergic members. However, because these dogs became so suddenly popular, several people saw these dogs as a way to make some quick cash. This problem exists even with purebred dogs, and it has for a long time, and probably always will. Still, that doesn't make it right. These dogs were not meant for people to make money off of them, they were meant to do good and to have a purpose.
This article that I just read also mentioned that there are people who are trying to get the Labradoodle recognized as a breed. This is frustrating, because these people obviously don't know what defines a breed. A breed takes way longer than a few years to develope. Most of the purebred dogs you see are the product of selective breeding and several generations of dogs. These breeds did not suddenly appear in less than a decade to become what they are now. For instance, the Labradoodle is not guaranteed in the second generation to be completely allergy-free. Only a few out of every second-gen litter are hypoallergenic. In order to become a true breed with that trait, it would take a lot more selective breeding and decades of work on the part of breeders everywhere for the Labradoodle to become the well-developed breed that it has the potential to be, and that many others have already become. I'm sure Labradoodles are great dogs, but I don't believe the cross in general has what it takes to become a recognized breed at this stage in the game. It took centuries for every other breed-or at least the ones recognized by the AKC-to be recognized as a breed, because they were bred for a long time and all the dogs of that breed shared many of the same traits. This is what constitutes a breed. Not the popularity. Ha. Those last two sentances summed it all up.
I really wish people would get some common sense. The way America is right now, everyone expects things to happen over night, and it doesn't work like that. Especially when it comes to animals, people just have no common sense or courtesy. No one takes the time to examine the situation, and it causes problems. I hate this about the human race, but there isn't much I can do about it now, is there? But anyway, enough of my ranting about peoples' stupidity(although you'll probably see a lot more of these rants from me in the future, I'm sure).
Thursday, February 18, 2010
asdf jkl; [writing sample]
Couldn't think of anything catchy for the title. I figured I may as well put up a little sample of my current stories so that you guys can tell me if it's good and what I need to work on to make it better. I have several unfinished, but I'm not sure if I want to show all of them here. So I'll let you guys see an exerpt from my main story that I'm working on. Here;
The black shape moved toward me, eyes reflecting electric blue. Like a shadow amongst shadows, it crept closer. I stood, long brown hair flying behind me, as if trying to coax me into running. But that wasn’t how you handled these situations. You never ran from a wolf. You never ran from any predator. That made you prey, and you’d get taken down like a helpless fawn. You must stand your ground, show them you’re not scared. Most importantly, you have to believe it yourself. They will smell it even if you try to fake it. You never run, never scream, and you have to believe that you have no fear.
Besides, I couldn’t run. There were two more behind me. The breathed out in gravelly huffs, and I could picture their breath steaming on the air if it wasn’t the middle of July. I smiled at the black one when one of the others snapped a twig. They’d left great gaps to either side of me. That still didn’t coax me into running. The black one, the leader of the gang, growled. In a moment he was in the air, flying toward me. I leapt to meet him, with the other two at my heels.
The thrill of the change was amazing. If anyone ever captured it on camera, someone would cry at the slow-motion replay. When you watched, you became addicted to the sight, and when the change was done, you wished it had lasted longer than a split second, just so you could watch it for longer. But when it was you changing, the adrenaline rush was the big thing. To feel your muscles pack up tight where you can literally feel the energy in them, like some instant steroid, it gets you going. You really want to laugh or scream, but then you don’t have the right equipment anymore. You’ve got fur all over and canines four inches long, and you suddenly feel huge. Because you are. You’re the size of a Clydesdale, or bigger, in some cases. It truly is a beautiful thing to witness.
The impact was practically nothing to me or him, but it got a snarl out of both of us. The dark one snapped at my shoulder, grabbing at fur rather than skin. We fell to the ground twisting and turning, nipping and snapping, snarling and growling. The other two were in the mix in a moment, joining in with another cacophony of noises. The four of us crashed into trees and crushed logs as we tumbled along, a jumbled mess of fur and teeth. Sometimes I was facing the little silver one, and in a moment I was clawing at the other brown one, and then in an instant I was back battling the black one. And then the cycle would start again.
We ended up on the creek bank where the water hissed at us to get away. Squirrels chided us to stop making so much racket, and dogs down the street had begun to howl. Finally I got the brown one down on the ground. I nipped at his chest and legs until he surrendered, and then I backed off. The black wolf and the little silver one were gone, replaced by a pair of humans. They stood watching, laughing as I took my opponent down. I phased again as I stepped back, once again the girl in tattered jeans and a t-shirt with brown hair down to the middle of her back.
“Ha! You’re it.” I said when my voice was restored. The boy that stood before me was about a year younger than me, with chocolate-brown hair the slung down over his forehead. He was somewhat scrawny, but I knew better than to think he was useless.
“No, I’m done,” was his reply. “This game gets boring.”
“Oh, come on, Toma, don’t be such a baby.” This voice was feminine, belonging to the girl whose wolf form was small and silvery. We called her Ema, which was her middle name. Her real name was Miroslava, and she hated to be called that. She rolled her eyes at her twin. They were nothing alike, of course, in personality or looks. While Toma had dark brown hair, Ema’s was a more silvery shade of light brown. They were both quick, but in size they looked to be completely unrelated. Toma dwarfed his sister, with her only at around five feet tall, and him closer to six. He wasn’t afraid to remind her of it, either. Ema was witty, thorough and thoughtful, whereas Toma was more impulsive, reacting before thinking. And easily bored.
“I’m serious!” he cried. “How many times have we played this game before? It’s the same thing over and over again. It’s really boring.”
“Toma, you listen now,” Lindor jumped in, in a deeper voice than normal, imitating Toma’s father. “You have to keep up the work-outs. You won’t be of any use to us if you can’t fight.”
We all smiled, but Toma wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Can we at least make up a new game? Tag is so repetitive,” he whined.
“Oo, what a big word, Tom,” Lindor taunted.
“Oh, shut up,” Toma growled, lunging for a playful punch, but Lindor dodged out of the way. The two phased, and together the dark wolves gamboled toward the Răzvan house. Ema shook her head in mock disappointment, and together we walked along in the trail of dust left by our two companions.
When we arrived home, Caelia was there watching the boys romp. She smiled when she saw me and Ema approaching, gesturing for us to come inside. We were still quite a distance from the house. Ema looked at me mischievously.
“Race ya.”
“Yeah,” I replied, knowing she would win anyway. It was good exercise, though. Tested my strength and stamina.
We could have raced there on two legs, but that was too slow for us. You get addicted to the speed of four paws once you’ve experienced it. In half a second we were off, racing through the grass. It didn’t take long for Ema to pull ahead, and I watched the distance between us become larger and larger. Out of nowhere, a mass of dark brown fur blurred past, and crashed through the doorway. Luckily, the door was large enough to fit one of us through it, so no damage was done.
Keep up, girls! Toma shouted through the telepathic connection that ran in all werewolves’ blood. At the same time, the air carried the shout of “Toma!” to our ears. Ema and I snickered as we phased before going into the house. That was one of Caelia’s rules. No wolves in the house. I heard the hiss of the old cat Rancher as Toma blundered into the house. Caelia’s personal watch-cat, the enforcer of the rules. The wolf in Toma growled in return, but then he slid into the dining room, once again a boy with shaggy brown hair.
The black shape moved toward me, eyes reflecting electric blue. Like a shadow amongst shadows, it crept closer. I stood, long brown hair flying behind me, as if trying to coax me into running. But that wasn’t how you handled these situations. You never ran from a wolf. You never ran from any predator. That made you prey, and you’d get taken down like a helpless fawn. You must stand your ground, show them you’re not scared. Most importantly, you have to believe it yourself. They will smell it even if you try to fake it. You never run, never scream, and you have to believe that you have no fear.
Besides, I couldn’t run. There were two more behind me. The breathed out in gravelly huffs, and I could picture their breath steaming on the air if it wasn’t the middle of July. I smiled at the black one when one of the others snapped a twig. They’d left great gaps to either side of me. That still didn’t coax me into running. The black one, the leader of the gang, growled. In a moment he was in the air, flying toward me. I leapt to meet him, with the other two at my heels.
The thrill of the change was amazing. If anyone ever captured it on camera, someone would cry at the slow-motion replay. When you watched, you became addicted to the sight, and when the change was done, you wished it had lasted longer than a split second, just so you could watch it for longer. But when it was you changing, the adrenaline rush was the big thing. To feel your muscles pack up tight where you can literally feel the energy in them, like some instant steroid, it gets you going. You really want to laugh or scream, but then you don’t have the right equipment anymore. You’ve got fur all over and canines four inches long, and you suddenly feel huge. Because you are. You’re the size of a Clydesdale, or bigger, in some cases. It truly is a beautiful thing to witness.
The impact was practically nothing to me or him, but it got a snarl out of both of us. The dark one snapped at my shoulder, grabbing at fur rather than skin. We fell to the ground twisting and turning, nipping and snapping, snarling and growling. The other two were in the mix in a moment, joining in with another cacophony of noises. The four of us crashed into trees and crushed logs as we tumbled along, a jumbled mess of fur and teeth. Sometimes I was facing the little silver one, and in a moment I was clawing at the other brown one, and then in an instant I was back battling the black one. And then the cycle would start again.
We ended up on the creek bank where the water hissed at us to get away. Squirrels chided us to stop making so much racket, and dogs down the street had begun to howl. Finally I got the brown one down on the ground. I nipped at his chest and legs until he surrendered, and then I backed off. The black wolf and the little silver one were gone, replaced by a pair of humans. They stood watching, laughing as I took my opponent down. I phased again as I stepped back, once again the girl in tattered jeans and a t-shirt with brown hair down to the middle of her back.
“Ha! You’re it.” I said when my voice was restored. The boy that stood before me was about a year younger than me, with chocolate-brown hair the slung down over his forehead. He was somewhat scrawny, but I knew better than to think he was useless.
“No, I’m done,” was his reply. “This game gets boring.”
“Oh, come on, Toma, don’t be such a baby.” This voice was feminine, belonging to the girl whose wolf form was small and silvery. We called her Ema, which was her middle name. Her real name was Miroslava, and she hated to be called that. She rolled her eyes at her twin. They were nothing alike, of course, in personality or looks. While Toma had dark brown hair, Ema’s was a more silvery shade of light brown. They were both quick, but in size they looked to be completely unrelated. Toma dwarfed his sister, with her only at around five feet tall, and him closer to six. He wasn’t afraid to remind her of it, either. Ema was witty, thorough and thoughtful, whereas Toma was more impulsive, reacting before thinking. And easily bored.
“I’m serious!” he cried. “How many times have we played this game before? It’s the same thing over and over again. It’s really boring.”
“Toma, you listen now,” Lindor jumped in, in a deeper voice than normal, imitating Toma’s father. “You have to keep up the work-outs. You won’t be of any use to us if you can’t fight.”
We all smiled, but Toma wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Can we at least make up a new game? Tag is so repetitive,” he whined.
“Oo, what a big word, Tom,” Lindor taunted.
“Oh, shut up,” Toma growled, lunging for a playful punch, but Lindor dodged out of the way. The two phased, and together the dark wolves gamboled toward the Răzvan house. Ema shook her head in mock disappointment, and together we walked along in the trail of dust left by our two companions.
When we arrived home, Caelia was there watching the boys romp. She smiled when she saw me and Ema approaching, gesturing for us to come inside. We were still quite a distance from the house. Ema looked at me mischievously.
“Race ya.”
“Yeah,” I replied, knowing she would win anyway. It was good exercise, though. Tested my strength and stamina.
We could have raced there on two legs, but that was too slow for us. You get addicted to the speed of four paws once you’ve experienced it. In half a second we were off, racing through the grass. It didn’t take long for Ema to pull ahead, and I watched the distance between us become larger and larger. Out of nowhere, a mass of dark brown fur blurred past, and crashed through the doorway. Luckily, the door was large enough to fit one of us through it, so no damage was done.
Keep up, girls! Toma shouted through the telepathic connection that ran in all werewolves’ blood. At the same time, the air carried the shout of “Toma!” to our ears. Ema and I snickered as we phased before going into the house. That was one of Caelia’s rules. No wolves in the house. I heard the hiss of the old cat Rancher as Toma blundered into the house. Caelia’s personal watch-cat, the enforcer of the rules. The wolf in Toma growled in return, but then he slid into the dining room, once again a boy with shaggy brown hair.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Judgement
I was just thinking about something else I could write about that would interest you guys, rather than my pets and life. Suddenly I thought about the other day, when a friend said something about a teacher looking or sounding gay. I asked her why she judged people, and she automatically said she didn't. I said that's a lie; you just did. But I didn't push it. So I just want to talk about judgement and prejudice for a while.
I hate it that people are always judging and gossiping and following typical stereotypes. My hometown and my school are pretty bad about racism and homophobia. Springtown is an extremely white town, so says Mrs. Lang. I agree with her, since our black and hispanic population is like five, total. But still, that is no excuse for saying crap like gay kids should die. It's absolutely ridiculous and stupid. And there is so much of it in Springtown. It's so easy to wish it would all go away, but it'll never happen.
So, why are people so judgemental? I think it's because we see in others what we fear in ourselves. We see stereotypes when we look at people who are different from us. It's unfair, but true. And it's so sad, because there is so much potential for America if people didn't have this whole thing about Obama being black or democratic. We judge our own president! Think about that, and try to tell me that's not wrong. And if we didn't worry about such trivial things like polls titled "Do you think gay marriage should be legal?" we would all be so much better off. If we didn't worry so much about what other people wanted to do with their lives and trying to control theirs, maybe we could work on controling our own lives. But ohmygod, her hair is so ugly and she's so fat and he's got terrible acne. Who cares?
I can't say that I've never judged someone or said something rude about a stranger, or even thought something demeaning about a complete stranger. Because I have. It is very hard not to think bad about anybody when you live in America. It is hardwired into our brains, because that is what we hear. I garuntee you there is not one kid in this country whose parents have not said something judgemental about a stranger in front of their own kid. And you know what, when we say or think something rude about someone, our subconscious goes "What if people say similar things about me?" And I think that's why everybody does it so often, because we think that if we put others down, that we become tougher somehow, and that their judgement really doesn't matter. But it doesn't work that way, and that's what gets most people.
I can honestly tell you that I try to catch myself when I say things about people, or when I think them. I try not to think bad about strangers, and if I do think things, then I try not to say them out loud. I always feel guilty if I say the things I think. I don't like to join in when my friends gossip about someone. I've witnessed traitors in action, where a group of people will turn on someone that thinks they're all friends when they are home sick. And it makes me angry and sad, because friends really shouldn't talk about each other bad. I understand venting, but when you have a whole group of people talking about someone else, it makes me want to walk away or scream. Too bad I don't have the courage to do that. I wish I did sometimes.
So next time you think something judgemental about anybody, think about what you're saying and why. I promise there won't be a good reason in there.
And thus my lecture on judgement is over. I hope you all enjoyed that.
Bye-bye.
I hate it that people are always judging and gossiping and following typical stereotypes. My hometown and my school are pretty bad about racism and homophobia. Springtown is an extremely white town, so says Mrs. Lang. I agree with her, since our black and hispanic population is like five, total. But still, that is no excuse for saying crap like gay kids should die. It's absolutely ridiculous and stupid. And there is so much of it in Springtown. It's so easy to wish it would all go away, but it'll never happen.
So, why are people so judgemental? I think it's because we see in others what we fear in ourselves. We see stereotypes when we look at people who are different from us. It's unfair, but true. And it's so sad, because there is so much potential for America if people didn't have this whole thing about Obama being black or democratic. We judge our own president! Think about that, and try to tell me that's not wrong. And if we didn't worry about such trivial things like polls titled "Do you think gay marriage should be legal?" we would all be so much better off. If we didn't worry so much about what other people wanted to do with their lives and trying to control theirs, maybe we could work on controling our own lives. But ohmygod, her hair is so ugly and she's so fat and he's got terrible acne. Who cares?
I can't say that I've never judged someone or said something rude about a stranger, or even thought something demeaning about a complete stranger. Because I have. It is very hard not to think bad about anybody when you live in America. It is hardwired into our brains, because that is what we hear. I garuntee you there is not one kid in this country whose parents have not said something judgemental about a stranger in front of their own kid. And you know what, when we say or think something rude about someone, our subconscious goes "What if people say similar things about me?" And I think that's why everybody does it so often, because we think that if we put others down, that we become tougher somehow, and that their judgement really doesn't matter. But it doesn't work that way, and that's what gets most people.
I can honestly tell you that I try to catch myself when I say things about people, or when I think them. I try not to think bad about strangers, and if I do think things, then I try not to say them out loud. I always feel guilty if I say the things I think. I don't like to join in when my friends gossip about someone. I've witnessed traitors in action, where a group of people will turn on someone that thinks they're all friends when they are home sick. And it makes me angry and sad, because friends really shouldn't talk about each other bad. I understand venting, but when you have a whole group of people talking about someone else, it makes me want to walk away or scream. Too bad I don't have the courage to do that. I wish I did sometimes.
So next time you think something judgemental about anybody, think about what you're saying and why. I promise there won't be a good reason in there.
And thus my lecture on judgement is over. I hope you all enjoyed that.
Bye-bye.
Back to Blogging
Hey everybody. It's been a while since I've blogged, but I'm back! I have some news, but it's mostly about my pets and all that fun stuff, so feel free to just skip right over this. Some of you know, and some of you don't, but my animals are my life, so you should expect a lot of "Pet Posts" from me. :D
So the first bit of news I have is that Sunny is gone. If you don't know who Sunny is, I suggest reading my first pet post. So my little barn buddy is no more, and I don't know what happened to him. And Mufasa's back. I can't say I'm excited about his reappearance. I know it's mean, but his quality of life isn't great at the moment. However, there were two new additions to the barn cat family, Little Man and Baby Boy, later renamed Mutt and Jeff. <-- Mom called them that because they were always together, and it just kind of stuck. Little Man is Mutt, and Baby Boy was Jeff. They were brothers, and looked almost identical, except that Mutt has a white star on his chest. Regrettably, Jeff was run over by a car not too long ago, so it's just Mufasa and Mutt. But Mutt seems to be doing fine. He acts like a dog. When I get off the bus, he usually comes up the driveway to meet me. He comes when called, and "talks" constantly. He is my new barn buddy.
Also, Biscuit was sold to a guy in Wyoming to go into competitive Reining, and Mom got a fully trained Reining horse from Idaho, named Little Bit. Joker's still here, and it looks like she'll be here forever. Joker recently had a rear leg injury that almost completely severed one of her tendons. Luckily, it was one that won't cause her any complications and won't require her being put down. She is still healing from the wound(after four weeks delay because of some stupid vet's advice) and is doing very well. So she will stay and be the little cousin's riding pony for when they come to visit. I swear, the only reason my little cousins look forward to coming over is for the horses.
But on to better news. I am excited to tell you all that I will be buying an Australian Shepherd puppy in 2011, and I have big plans for it. It is from a local breeder, and the head of a local Australian Shepherd club. I don't know how this new puppy will fit into our house(the inside barely holds the two current aussies), but I will make it work. I've been waiting for a puppy for a while, and I'm saving up so that I can at least pay part of the cost. I can't tell you all how excited I am. I'm hoping that it will be born in the summer, so that I can spend as much time as possible working with it and training it and so that I won't have to be away from it for eight hours a day.
Unfortunately, getting a new puppy and devoting all of my time to it will require me to quit all of my Role-playing sites. I'm not so excited about this, because I've made some really good friends, but I can't keep playing on the internet every spare minute. I can't afford to have that distraction if I want to make this puppy a great agility dog. I won't be quitting any time too soon, because I have plots that need to be finished and some that haven't even started. But I will quit in 2011, as soon as my puppy is born, if not sooner.
In other good news, I am almost finished with Drivers Ed, so hopefully I will be getting my permit after this wonderfully snowy four-day weekend. On the bright side, I'll have an advantage over some kids, because I can drive myself to and from agility practice, which happens to be at night, so it will take me around ten weeks to get my ten hours of night driving. And I've been driving the truck and tractor since I was eleven, so I have some experience there. By September I'll be able to get my license, and then the real fun begins. :D
I believe that's all the news I have for tonight. However, if you would like to see Pearl's and my first Agility NADAC Q, you can go to youtube.com/Nicaussies and watch. There'll also be some videos of them in the snow yesterday and today. Have fun watching those. :D
See y'all later.
So the first bit of news I have is that Sunny is gone. If you don't know who Sunny is, I suggest reading my first pet post. So my little barn buddy is no more, and I don't know what happened to him. And Mufasa's back. I can't say I'm excited about his reappearance. I know it's mean, but his quality of life isn't great at the moment. However, there were two new additions to the barn cat family, Little Man and Baby Boy, later renamed Mutt and Jeff. <-- Mom called them that because they were always together, and it just kind of stuck. Little Man is Mutt, and Baby Boy was Jeff. They were brothers, and looked almost identical, except that Mutt has a white star on his chest. Regrettably, Jeff was run over by a car not too long ago, so it's just Mufasa and Mutt. But Mutt seems to be doing fine. He acts like a dog. When I get off the bus, he usually comes up the driveway to meet me. He comes when called, and "talks" constantly. He is my new barn buddy.
Also, Biscuit was sold to a guy in Wyoming to go into competitive Reining, and Mom got a fully trained Reining horse from Idaho, named Little Bit. Joker's still here, and it looks like she'll be here forever. Joker recently had a rear leg injury that almost completely severed one of her tendons. Luckily, it was one that won't cause her any complications and won't require her being put down. She is still healing from the wound(after four weeks delay because of some stupid vet's advice) and is doing very well. So she will stay and be the little cousin's riding pony for when they come to visit. I swear, the only reason my little cousins look forward to coming over is for the horses.
But on to better news. I am excited to tell you all that I will be buying an Australian Shepherd puppy in 2011, and I have big plans for it. It is from a local breeder, and the head of a local Australian Shepherd club. I don't know how this new puppy will fit into our house(the inside barely holds the two current aussies), but I will make it work. I've been waiting for a puppy for a while, and I'm saving up so that I can at least pay part of the cost. I can't tell you all how excited I am. I'm hoping that it will be born in the summer, so that I can spend as much time as possible working with it and training it and so that I won't have to be away from it for eight hours a day.
Unfortunately, getting a new puppy and devoting all of my time to it will require me to quit all of my Role-playing sites. I'm not so excited about this, because I've made some really good friends, but I can't keep playing on the internet every spare minute. I can't afford to have that distraction if I want to make this puppy a great agility dog. I won't be quitting any time too soon, because I have plots that need to be finished and some that haven't even started. But I will quit in 2011, as soon as my puppy is born, if not sooner.
In other good news, I am almost finished with Drivers Ed, so hopefully I will be getting my permit after this wonderfully snowy four-day weekend. On the bright side, I'll have an advantage over some kids, because I can drive myself to and from agility practice, which happens to be at night, so it will take me around ten weeks to get my ten hours of night driving. And I've been driving the truck and tractor since I was eleven, so I have some experience there. By September I'll be able to get my license, and then the real fun begins. :D
I believe that's all the news I have for tonight. However, if you would like to see Pearl's and my first Agility NADAC Q, you can go to youtube.com/Nicaussies and watch. There'll also be some videos of them in the snow yesterday and today. Have fun watching those. :D
See y'all later.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Bad Name
Alright, so I'm a nerd who spends hours on the internet everyday, and sometimes I find myself with nothing to do. And yes, I am the nerd who googles herself just to see what comes up. And I think people are giving my name a bad rep. Now, it is actually kind of funny, but the name Nicole should be a respectable name. After all, it does mean "Victory of the people," and I admit that I don't think that quite suits me, but it does more so than some people.
For example, there is a 25 year old massage therapist who allegedly found herself with nothing better to do than follow mourning people into a church, having a service for a complete stranger. Oddly, I think I know people who would do this, but this is a woman with my name, first and last. Besides, that's not the worst part. She danced, and I mean that literally, up to the casket in the middle of the service, and began chanting the words "I love you". Apparently, she danced around the casket, chanting, opened the casket, and touched the deceased. Ah, but that still isn't all. She pulled out a broken car antennae and tapped the deceased on the head multiple times, before grabbing a handful of flowers and throwing them onto the people sitting in the pews. And then she skipped out and drove away in her car, and was later caught by police.
Now, I think this woman thought she was a fairy for the duration of that funeral, and I believe there is only one explaination for this. She was either drunk or on drugs. Which further wounds the reputation of my name. And I'll let you take a wild guess at what she said to the police, but I guarantee you won't get it right(unless you've read the story already). She said "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." I'm sure there are plenty of other people who have googled their names and found them bruised by someone with the same name. So, if you'd like to share, feel free.
Of course, there are also people who have the same name as me that aren't bad at all. For example, I have found that I am an ice skater, a roller blader, and a volleyball player, which I am most certainly not. So, I figured I had to post something for people to comment on, and what better topic than a nerd who found out someone with her name did something stupid and got arrested?
For example, there is a 25 year old massage therapist who allegedly found herself with nothing better to do than follow mourning people into a church, having a service for a complete stranger. Oddly, I think I know people who would do this, but this is a woman with my name, first and last. Besides, that's not the worst part. She danced, and I mean that literally, up to the casket in the middle of the service, and began chanting the words "I love you". Apparently, she danced around the casket, chanting, opened the casket, and touched the deceased. Ah, but that still isn't all. She pulled out a broken car antennae and tapped the deceased on the head multiple times, before grabbing a handful of flowers and throwing them onto the people sitting in the pews. And then she skipped out and drove away in her car, and was later caught by police.
Now, I think this woman thought she was a fairy for the duration of that funeral, and I believe there is only one explaination for this. She was either drunk or on drugs. Which further wounds the reputation of my name. And I'll let you take a wild guess at what she said to the police, but I guarantee you won't get it right(unless you've read the story already). She said "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." I'm sure there are plenty of other people who have googled their names and found them bruised by someone with the same name. So, if you'd like to share, feel free.
Of course, there are also people who have the same name as me that aren't bad at all. For example, I have found that I am an ice skater, a roller blader, and a volleyball player, which I am most certainly not. So, I figured I had to post something for people to comment on, and what better topic than a nerd who found out someone with her name did something stupid and got arrested?
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
My beautiful babies
Alright, so it's tomorrow, and I think I'll tell you about my pets. I'll tell you I have a lot compared to some people, so be prepared for a long post. Don't know if this will be, but just be prepared.
So, the first I'd like to tell you about is my girl Summer. The sweetest dog you will ever meet, I swear. She's my German Shepherd/Australian Cattle Dog mix. She is mainly black with tan points(paws and muzzle). She's about the size of an ACD. She is the truck dog, the barn dog, and one of the best companion dogs I can think of, including the rest of my dogs. ;-) She'll be ten years old in 2010. She is going blind and deaf, but that doesn't slow her down. She loves to go to the barn, but she also loves to lay by the couch, and on it whenever she can. I've had her since I was five, and I have pictures of her and I at my grandma's house. She is the classic grateful rescue dog. We picked her up on the side of the road near my grandparents' house. She was covered in ticks and fleas, and she had to stay at the barn until we got them all off her. But since then, she's been the best dog you could ask for. She doesn't know a lot of tricks, besides the basic sit, stay, and down, but she gives hugs and kisses and loves attention. My four year old cousin can lay on top of her, and Summer doesn't mind at all. And the image uploader isn't working, so you'll just have to use your imagination.
Next in line are the horses. The first two I'd like to tell you about are Dee and Jesse. Dee is somewhere around eleven or twelve years, and Jesse is about the same age. I don't know how long we've had them, but we got Dee before Jesse. Dee is the dominant one of the two. She's a paint horse that goes back to some good thoroughbred race-horse. For you horse people out there, you'll know what I mean when I say she's breeding stock. That means she doesn't have big splotches of color, but she has paint horses in her bloodline. Dee likes to make me mad. I think it's a game to her. Whether it's not coming up to the barn at feeding time, or getting out of her stall when I forgot to latch it, but I was sure I closed it all the way, or just making me run in circles trying to get her in her stall. She really is frustrating, but I can deal with her. Jesse is a Quarter Horse that goes back to Jessie James, who was a famous reiner. She has really good bloodlines, but whoever had her before we did messed her up. She has been ridden, but she is very skittish and jumpy. She has thrown Mom before, and now she is just a brood mare. She has a lot of problems, but she's gotten better since we've had her. She is a very pretty sorrel with a dainty, high step. She's somewhat short, only about 14.2 hands. Dee is bigger and is a dark bay. She moves like a thoroughbred. We've had foals out of both of these mares, two of which have only recently been sold. That was Indy, a dark bay paint horse out of Dee, who went to a girl about my age to be a jumper. He looks good when he jumps, and he's a natural at it. Biscuit, a buckskin out of Jesse by big-time money earner Who Whiz It, was sold to a man in Wyoming. I don't know what he was going to do with her, but I'd assume it's reining, as that's what she was bred for. She is the full sister to Joker, who I will tell you about later.
Next is Duke, the big bad guard dog who whines when we come up from the barn. It is quite entertaining to watch the trash men come, though, because we have a wooden box as opposed to a dumpster and it sits right up agains the leaning and already short 4 foot fence. He jumps five feet straight up, but has never had the will to actually jump over the fence(I think he just likes to see their faces too). Duke is a Rottweiler/Border Collie mix(or so we assume) with a build somewhere between the two and a face like a Rott. He has the classic 'tuxedo' look, mostly black with tan and white points. He's territorial, like most Rotties, but that's alright. He has broken the skin of two people, but not bad, and since then we've taken measures to make sure nobody gets hurt when they come in the yard. If he knows you, he's just fine, and he might actually whine when you come to the fence, because he's a big baby. :-) He's somewhere around 21" and weighs about 55-60 lbs. He's somewhat uncomfortable in the house, because he's been an outside dog since he was young. We actually got him in a Brookshire's(grocery store) parking lot. The people said that the mom looked like a border collie, and that the pups all looked like rottweilers. I'm not sure if I believe them about the border collie, but who knows. There were two left when we got there, both males, and Mom tested them out, holding them on their backs and all for temperament, and Duke came home with us. That was after Yellow Lab Shadow was shot and killed. He's been here ever since.
Now then, we're on to my favorite of the horses, who would be Joker, of course. She's just a yearling, but she already has the mindset of a well-trained 9-year old. She's very gentle and loves people. She is probably the only one of the horses who will walk up to you and not push you over to get attention. She's a real sweet-heart, and, while she is on the market to be sold, I will miss her if she does leave. She was born a few weeks premature, while we were in Houston visiting relatives(imagine the surprise we got when our friend Mary called and said there's a baby on the ground). Naturally, Mom left immediately to go back home. She's a small girl, but nobody seems to mind. She's always been independent with the other horses. Even when she was still nursing she would wander farther away from her mom than I've ever seen a foal go. She's curious and absolutely unphazed by anything. She has a very calm demeanor. Nothing much can get her excited, which is the way it's always been with her. We recently had a scare about a genetic hoof problem with the Topsail Whiz line(Who Whiz It's dad) but found out on Saturday that it was just a bad trim job. Her feet grow really fast and they've always been narrow and cone-shaped, so we're taking her to a new farrier to try to help her hooves splay. Joker is my favorite. She's just a really good horse, and I honestly hope, even though we really need the money, that she doesn't get sold. But I guess we'll see.
Now we move on to more dogs. Pearl is my baby girl. She's a blue merle Aussie that we got from the Humane Society, and I got so lucky with her. She is exactly what I needed and wanted when I was looking for an agility dog. She still has a few quirks we have to work through, but we're getting there. Hopefully we'll get into lots of shows and get some titles on her. She has a natural bob, which is a naturally docked tail. You can barely tell she has a tail, and she is a classic Aussie wiggle-butt. Instead of wagging her tail(because she has none) she turns her booty toward you to show she's excited. She kind of bends herself in half, and she is the only dog I've ever seen do that. She also has prick ears, like a German Shepherds, which is(according to AKC) not standard for Aussies. She has two brown eyes, but in her left eye she has a little spot of blue. I don't know what causes that, but it doesn't mess with her eyesight or anything. It's in the iris, as if her eye started to go blue and then turned brown. I think she's five years old now, so I have roughly five more years to get as many titles on her as I can before she retires. She's about 18.5 inches tall, and weighs abut 32 lbs. She doesn't like little kids, I guess because the get in her face all the time and all. They don't understand that she's not like Summer, and she snaps at them when they get too close. She usually stays in my room when they come over.
C.J. is the newest addition to the house, although we got him a couple of years ago. He is also a blue merle Aussie. He weighs about somewhere around 40 lbs, and he's probably 20 inches or so. He has one brown and one blue eye, although his brown eye has a spot of blue, just like Pearl. He was, originally Dad's agility dog, but since Dad got his old job back and doesn't have time to train him, guess who gets to fix him up? You guessed it, me. Dad didn't really put a good foundation on him, because he was trying to catch up to me in the levels at training, and he is now actually a couple of levels down from Pearl and I. So I have to fix him up. He is a very excitable dog, and oh my god he loves to bark. He is pushy when he gets excited, so he has to stay in his kennel when the cousins come over until he calms down. He is extremely food motivated, and during training that is about the only thing he can concentrate on. He looks up instead of where he's going. Quite a few weave poles have been broken because of this habit. So I have to figure out how to get him to focus on the course instead of my hand. He really is a good dog, very loving and eager to please, but he just gets so excited and it's hard to focus on anything else. He's very close to Dad, and they make a very good pair, just not at Agility. ;-) But I'm working with him, and hopefully I will be able to bring out his full potential. I'm sure if he could focus on what I'm asking of him, he would be a very fast Agility dog. Time will tell, I guess.
Both of the barn cats have disappeared, but I'll tell you about them anyway. Mufasa was an orange tabby, very handsome when we first got him. But he was the normal tom cat, and he always got into fights. So one ear was folded over and infected, and we tried to fix it, but he just kept getting into fights, so we gave up. In his later years, he was very skinny and his fur looked terrible, and his ear was probably affecting his brain by then. He still seemed to get around ok, but he just didn't look good. I figured he would have disappeared a long time ago, but somehow he held out until this year. He disappeared a couple of weeks ago.
Sunny was my buddy, even though he shed white hair every day of the year. He was an awesome cat, fat and healthy. He was mostly white, with orange ears and an orange tail. Mom thought he was neutered, but I wasn't so sure. The neighbor's cat had kittens one year, and one of them looked strangely like Sunny. But oh well. Sunny loved attention. He really was a good cat. Best hunter I've ever seen. Mom saved a baby rabbit from him once. He was the main gopher hunter on our property, and it was very rarely that he ever left the barn. He didn't take any crap from the dogs, either. He would come and sit on the back deck and the dogs were just fine with it. Mufasa was a different story. The dogs didn't like Mufasa, even when he came too close to the fence. And on the occasion that I let Sunny in the house when it was really hot or really cold outside, he made himself at home. He got white hair all over the place, but the dogs leave hair everywhere too, so it wasn't a big deal. Nobody ever got away from petting Sunny without white hair sticking to them. He just had a lot of freaking hair. He disappeared a few weeks ago, and we haven't seen him since. He's never left the house for more than a week, so I'm guessing he's not coming back.
And those are my pets, minus the several fish in the water troughs. I love them all, but some more than others. I know I shouldn't admit that, but it's true. They all have their own personalities, and some of them like to frustrate me a lot(Dee). So, there you go. I knew it was a good idea to make a whole different topic about my pets.
So, the first I'd like to tell you about is my girl Summer. The sweetest dog you will ever meet, I swear. She's my German Shepherd/Australian Cattle Dog mix. She is mainly black with tan points(paws and muzzle). She's about the size of an ACD. She is the truck dog, the barn dog, and one of the best companion dogs I can think of, including the rest of my dogs. ;-) She'll be ten years old in 2010. She is going blind and deaf, but that doesn't slow her down. She loves to go to the barn, but she also loves to lay by the couch, and on it whenever she can. I've had her since I was five, and I have pictures of her and I at my grandma's house. She is the classic grateful rescue dog. We picked her up on the side of the road near my grandparents' house. She was covered in ticks and fleas, and she had to stay at the barn until we got them all off her. But since then, she's been the best dog you could ask for. She doesn't know a lot of tricks, besides the basic sit, stay, and down, but she gives hugs and kisses and loves attention. My four year old cousin can lay on top of her, and Summer doesn't mind at all. And the image uploader isn't working, so you'll just have to use your imagination.
Next in line are the horses. The first two I'd like to tell you about are Dee and Jesse. Dee is somewhere around eleven or twelve years, and Jesse is about the same age. I don't know how long we've had them, but we got Dee before Jesse. Dee is the dominant one of the two. She's a paint horse that goes back to some good thoroughbred race-horse. For you horse people out there, you'll know what I mean when I say she's breeding stock. That means she doesn't have big splotches of color, but she has paint horses in her bloodline. Dee likes to make me mad. I think it's a game to her. Whether it's not coming up to the barn at feeding time, or getting out of her stall when I forgot to latch it, but I was sure I closed it all the way, or just making me run in circles trying to get her in her stall. She really is frustrating, but I can deal with her. Jesse is a Quarter Horse that goes back to Jessie James, who was a famous reiner. She has really good bloodlines, but whoever had her before we did messed her up. She has been ridden, but she is very skittish and jumpy. She has thrown Mom before, and now she is just a brood mare. She has a lot of problems, but she's gotten better since we've had her. She is a very pretty sorrel with a dainty, high step. She's somewhat short, only about 14.2 hands. Dee is bigger and is a dark bay. She moves like a thoroughbred. We've had foals out of both of these mares, two of which have only recently been sold. That was Indy, a dark bay paint horse out of Dee, who went to a girl about my age to be a jumper. He looks good when he jumps, and he's a natural at it. Biscuit, a buckskin out of Jesse by big-time money earner Who Whiz It, was sold to a man in Wyoming. I don't know what he was going to do with her, but I'd assume it's reining, as that's what she was bred for. She is the full sister to Joker, who I will tell you about later.
Next is Duke, the big bad guard dog who whines when we come up from the barn. It is quite entertaining to watch the trash men come, though, because we have a wooden box as opposed to a dumpster and it sits right up agains the leaning and already short 4 foot fence. He jumps five feet straight up, but has never had the will to actually jump over the fence(I think he just likes to see their faces too). Duke is a Rottweiler/Border Collie mix(or so we assume) with a build somewhere between the two and a face like a Rott. He has the classic 'tuxedo' look, mostly black with tan and white points. He's territorial, like most Rotties, but that's alright. He has broken the skin of two people, but not bad, and since then we've taken measures to make sure nobody gets hurt when they come in the yard. If he knows you, he's just fine, and he might actually whine when you come to the fence, because he's a big baby. :-) He's somewhere around 21" and weighs about 55-60 lbs. He's somewhat uncomfortable in the house, because he's been an outside dog since he was young. We actually got him in a Brookshire's(grocery store) parking lot. The people said that the mom looked like a border collie, and that the pups all looked like rottweilers. I'm not sure if I believe them about the border collie, but who knows. There were two left when we got there, both males, and Mom tested them out, holding them on their backs and all for temperament, and Duke came home with us. That was after Yellow Lab Shadow was shot and killed. He's been here ever since.
Now then, we're on to my favorite of the horses, who would be Joker, of course. She's just a yearling, but she already has the mindset of a well-trained 9-year old. She's very gentle and loves people. She is probably the only one of the horses who will walk up to you and not push you over to get attention. She's a real sweet-heart, and, while she is on the market to be sold, I will miss her if she does leave. She was born a few weeks premature, while we were in Houston visiting relatives(imagine the surprise we got when our friend Mary called and said there's a baby on the ground). Naturally, Mom left immediately to go back home. She's a small girl, but nobody seems to mind. She's always been independent with the other horses. Even when she was still nursing she would wander farther away from her mom than I've ever seen a foal go. She's curious and absolutely unphazed by anything. She has a very calm demeanor. Nothing much can get her excited, which is the way it's always been with her. We recently had a scare about a genetic hoof problem with the Topsail Whiz line(Who Whiz It's dad) but found out on Saturday that it was just a bad trim job. Her feet grow really fast and they've always been narrow and cone-shaped, so we're taking her to a new farrier to try to help her hooves splay. Joker is my favorite. She's just a really good horse, and I honestly hope, even though we really need the money, that she doesn't get sold. But I guess we'll see.
Now we move on to more dogs. Pearl is my baby girl. She's a blue merle Aussie that we got from the Humane Society, and I got so lucky with her. She is exactly what I needed and wanted when I was looking for an agility dog. She still has a few quirks we have to work through, but we're getting there. Hopefully we'll get into lots of shows and get some titles on her. She has a natural bob, which is a naturally docked tail. You can barely tell she has a tail, and she is a classic Aussie wiggle-butt. Instead of wagging her tail(because she has none) she turns her booty toward you to show she's excited. She kind of bends herself in half, and she is the only dog I've ever seen do that. She also has prick ears, like a German Shepherds, which is(according to AKC) not standard for Aussies. She has two brown eyes, but in her left eye she has a little spot of blue. I don't know what causes that, but it doesn't mess with her eyesight or anything. It's in the iris, as if her eye started to go blue and then turned brown. I think she's five years old now, so I have roughly five more years to get as many titles on her as I can before she retires. She's about 18.5 inches tall, and weighs abut 32 lbs. She doesn't like little kids, I guess because the get in her face all the time and all. They don't understand that she's not like Summer, and she snaps at them when they get too close. She usually stays in my room when they come over.
C.J. is the newest addition to the house, although we got him a couple of years ago. He is also a blue merle Aussie. He weighs about somewhere around 40 lbs, and he's probably 20 inches or so. He has one brown and one blue eye, although his brown eye has a spot of blue, just like Pearl. He was, originally Dad's agility dog, but since Dad got his old job back and doesn't have time to train him, guess who gets to fix him up? You guessed it, me. Dad didn't really put a good foundation on him, because he was trying to catch up to me in the levels at training, and he is now actually a couple of levels down from Pearl and I. So I have to fix him up. He is a very excitable dog, and oh my god he loves to bark. He is pushy when he gets excited, so he has to stay in his kennel when the cousins come over until he calms down. He is extremely food motivated, and during training that is about the only thing he can concentrate on. He looks up instead of where he's going. Quite a few weave poles have been broken because of this habit. So I have to figure out how to get him to focus on the course instead of my hand. He really is a good dog, very loving and eager to please, but he just gets so excited and it's hard to focus on anything else. He's very close to Dad, and they make a very good pair, just not at Agility. ;-) But I'm working with him, and hopefully I will be able to bring out his full potential. I'm sure if he could focus on what I'm asking of him, he would be a very fast Agility dog. Time will tell, I guess.
Both of the barn cats have disappeared, but I'll tell you about them anyway. Mufasa was an orange tabby, very handsome when we first got him. But he was the normal tom cat, and he always got into fights. So one ear was folded over and infected, and we tried to fix it, but he just kept getting into fights, so we gave up. In his later years, he was very skinny and his fur looked terrible, and his ear was probably affecting his brain by then. He still seemed to get around ok, but he just didn't look good. I figured he would have disappeared a long time ago, but somehow he held out until this year. He disappeared a couple of weeks ago.
Sunny was my buddy, even though he shed white hair every day of the year. He was an awesome cat, fat and healthy. He was mostly white, with orange ears and an orange tail. Mom thought he was neutered, but I wasn't so sure. The neighbor's cat had kittens one year, and one of them looked strangely like Sunny. But oh well. Sunny loved attention. He really was a good cat. Best hunter I've ever seen. Mom saved a baby rabbit from him once. He was the main gopher hunter on our property, and it was very rarely that he ever left the barn. He didn't take any crap from the dogs, either. He would come and sit on the back deck and the dogs were just fine with it. Mufasa was a different story. The dogs didn't like Mufasa, even when he came too close to the fence. And on the occasion that I let Sunny in the house when it was really hot or really cold outside, he made himself at home. He got white hair all over the place, but the dogs leave hair everywhere too, so it wasn't a big deal. Nobody ever got away from petting Sunny without white hair sticking to them. He just had a lot of freaking hair. He disappeared a few weeks ago, and we haven't seen him since. He's never left the house for more than a week, so I'm guessing he's not coming back.
And those are my pets, minus the several fish in the water troughs. I love them all, but some more than others. I know I shouldn't admit that, but it's true. They all have their own personalities, and some of them like to frustrate me a lot(Dee). So, there you go. I knew it was a good idea to make a whole different topic about my pets.
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