Dear Readers,

My agility work continues, and Momma and I competed in our third trial last Sunday. And this one had a real twist to it. Read on.

Once again, the trial (and I’m beginning to realize why they are called trials) was in Rochester which made for a stressful beginning to our day. Once again, we had to get up in the middle of the night, wolf down breakfast, and race to our venue. Luckily, we arrived safely at Soccer World and got set up just in time for the 7:30 briefing.

Afterwards, Momma walked the course to figure out the best route for us. The game was called Standard, and it was our longest and most complex course of the day. We were only the second participant, and Momma did her best to rev me up (as Annelise had encouraged) with tricks and jumps and talking to me in an excited voice — not exactly her forte. It seemed to work, though, because we did great and earned another Q and a blue ribbon! Momma was thrilled. (I’m only surprised we’re not going to Disneyland.)

Luckily, Mark Herreid was on paw again to take photos, and he captured some of my best moments.

Momma had signed me up for four games (as opposed to three) this time, thinking that I should be able to handle it by now. Our second run was called Colors, a relatively easy and fun little course. We also earned a Q there, but I wasn’t quite as “revved up” for this run. In fact, I was starting to feel a little out of sorts.

Our third run was called Wildcard, and we usually do well on that one. Once again, Momma tried to get me hyped up with jumps and tricks and squeaky talk beforehand, but I just wasn’t feeling it. We did not qualify, and Momma was feeling a little down in the dumps (have I mentioned she’s competitive?), and wondering what was wrong with me. I was wondering what was wrong with me, too.

Nevertheless, we forged ahead with our day, and because we had a long break before our final run, Momma signed me up for a massage. (Is there ever any “extra” she misses at these things?) Here I am with Jim Mihalek of “Spot On Canine Massage.” He did a fantastic job, but take a look at my face — maybe a clue that I wasn’t in top form?

Shortly after my massage and before our final run of the day, Momma put me back in the crate to do her course walk. And that’s when it happened. This hound hurled! I just couldn’t help it. One might woof I was sick as a dog.

Unfortunately Momma did not see it, and we went through the motions of our final run. When she finally found the little mounds of vomit in my crate, she was horrified. What had caused me to be sick, she wondered. Did she get me up too early? Drive too crazy on the way down here? Did she run me too soon after breakfast? Get me too stressed with all the pep talks? Did we do too many runs? Should she have skipped the massage? Should she stop at the Mayo Clinic on the way home? (Okay, I made that one up, but the rest are true.)

After Momma made sure I was okay, she carried me to the car and went back for the rest of our stuff. Driving home, she reflected on our day. We did have a good first couple of runs. But she didn’t want to make me sick either. Maybe this was just an aberration and next time would be fine? Not knowing what the answer was, Momma decided she would think about it tomorrow, just like Scarlett O’Hara. We have another trial coming up August 1. I’ll keep you posted.

Lina, Resting Up

WOOFDA!