We kudda watched the Puppy Bowl

Considering the outcome of the Super Bowl - we should have, too.

Boston Terrier for sale

I've started seriously reconsidering the whole "housebroken" thing. I'm really starting to see the advantage of permanently paper-training dogs. Not that we have anywhere in the house that could be devoted to "piddle pads," or that we'd really want to deal with them.

On the other hand, I wouldn't be awakened at 2:30 a.m. by a Boston Terrier Who Shall Remain Nameless (I'm lying - it was Ceilidh) scratching at my door because she really, really had to go out. Because Heaven Forfend she should actually go out when I told her to before bedtime. Noooooooooooooooooooooooo. Because at 11 p.m. when we went to bed it was a balmy 10 degrees F. And at 2:30 a.m. it was 89 million degrees below zero. And she simply cannot go out into the cold, cruel world by herself.

I really do love the little beast. But sometimes I wonder why.

Dress rehearsal

Roc and I went to a Fun Match last Sunday - preparing for our upcoming National Specialty Obedience Trial. He got his Novice title at the Specialty Show three years ago, one of only seven dogs entered in the trial. Brussels Griffons are not really known as an obedience breed.

We had a great time on Sunday - he stuck the Long Sit and Long Down like a champ. A friend said he tensed up; with excitement, not fear, only when I poked my head out of the room we were hiding in to see how he was doing.

Roc's biggest problem in obedience is me - my stride is too long, my shoulder swings back, I heel too wide around the post. At least I remembered to wear my "heeling shoes." He's much closer to me when we heel when I wear them.

I got some good advice last week from a guest instructor at training class: shut up and let your dog do his job. He knows what he's doing.

That's true. The question is - do I?

Princess Golly

We may have mentioned that Golly is a diva, prima donna, princess - you get the idea. Not that she's difficult to live with. Absolutely not! As long as we do what she wants, Golly is the easiest-going girl around. She'll eat anything we put in front of her, and try to mooch off the others. We always say that if Golly doesn't eat, she's going right to the vet! She loves going for walks, until she's had enough. Then she stops and we either drag her or pick her up. (Guess which it is?)

Golly doesn't play with toys much, until she decides it's playtime. Then she picks up the toy of choice and bounces at me with the toy in her mouth. Very cute. And then we play tug or chase the toy along the floor (no higher than two inches off the floor or the game is over). For about a minute, maybe two. Then Golly is done playing. I actually got her to play for about five minutes the other day!

Golly had a very promising Obedience career. We got her CD (Companion Dog) title in four shows (three legs are needed) with a second place in one. We were training for her CDX, the next title and then Golly decided she'd had enough. After several years of frustration it was clear that we were done. Maybe we'll try something different, until the Princess gets bored.

Picture of obsession

Ceilidh's latest absolute favorite toy is a vinyl monkeyface. It used to have a rope going through it, but she worked like a demon to get rid of anything that would even vaguely resemble a handle that makes it easy to play tug with her. Now it's better. And don't try to take it away. You can't beat her and you definitely shouldn't try.

As natural as nylon

I guess 2007 is going to be the year I stretch my comfort zone. For the last two weeks I've been Dax's handler in agility class. She made it very clear to us that she's my dog, not Fran's, and she would very much appreciate it if mom would come to class, thank you very much.

So I have. It's not that I don't enjoy it - I do. It's really fun to see Dax running and jumping and having a wonderful time. It's just that I feel like the inert, fat kid that I was years ago. I have never been an athlete. Never took dance, karate, soccer, baseball. Okay, I lied about the soccer. I went out for the intramural team in junior high and dislocated my kneecap on the first day of practice. Running back into the locker room. Got the picture?

So, when the instructor tells me to move along the course as I naturally would if I were holding Dax's leash, I kind of look at her with a blank stare. There is no such thing as "natural" movement to me. I worked for months, with a metronome, to get my pace right for heeling in obedience. And had to do it all over again when I got a dog with a different stride!

I hope Dax and our instructor are patient with me. I need it.

Ceilidh's Disappointment

Ceilidh was very disappointed at Agility class last night. You may remember that last week she was a non-stop Agility fiend for a whole hour, only pausing for the other small dog in class to take his turn on the equipment set for the smaller dogs. Last night it was class as usual, running big dogs to little dogs, and Ceilidh had to wait her turn for half a dozen other dogs. We practiced some (to Ceilidh) non-fun stuff, like heeling, sits, downs, recalls, some tricks (give paw, spin, dance), but basically very low-energy things. She did not understand. And she lost focus three-quarters through class. I wanted to do a lead-out over three fairly easy jumps but Ceilidh had lost it. Oh well. Maybe next week.

Ceilidh just didn't understand why class wasn't all about her last night. (I wish it could be all about Ceilidh, too!)

The Boston Terrier Photo Blogger was nice enough to post Ceilidh's picture! She's smiling in the summertime...