Until freestyle came to town, Rally was as close as we could get to canine boogie, so I did a LOT of it, but that all went away about three years ago when I finally got to join a dance team. So, yes, it had been a while, but a couple of months ago, mom asked me to help support her obedience club, so I decided to let her enter me in this year’s trial.

I have mentioned before that the most common response to my performance used to be, “but he’s so entertaining!” so you may understand why she was a tad nervous, knowing this could be a potentially risky and/or embarrassing decision, plus we didn’t get to practice before the trial. But geez, I already had four legs towards my third RAE, so how bad could I be? I know all the moves and despite what folks think, dogs don’t forget stuff.

Saturday was warm and would have been perfect, except for the wind which kept shoving all these great smells up my nose. But I managed to hold it together, as amped up as I was.

Mom said I was a little “frisky,” which I figure must be a good thing since I got a 95 and third place in Excellent. And since I do love to please an audience, the compliments were flowing, as always.  She HAD to be proud of me during the Honor exercise, because the little yapper in the ring was only three feet away, bouncing and barking and doing zoomies through the spiral cones, and I didn’t even flinch. Not a big deal, since I never break a stay, not even with squirrels partying five feet behind me (yes, that has happened, and more than once).  I just gave him my “Dude, what is WRONG with you?” look, which he totally missed, but then he was a Jack Russell, so what can you do?

Things did kinda go downhill from there.

While we were waiting for the Advanced class, I zoned out and leaned against mom’s leg, which she may have misinterpreted to mean I would behave in the ring.  Well, that WAS my plan, but just as the judge said “Are you ready?” something moved way off to the right.  From then on, it was seriously tough. I could barely keep up with mom, and I’m embarrassed to say I sassed her a couple of times, but hey, it could’ve been a CAT out there!  What the heck did she expect me to do?

She made me a bit nervous after that, because she kind of stopped breathing, but once they put my score up, she calmed down some.  I got a 71, and I realize that’s only one point above the minimum, but we passed, right? So that sarcastic comment that I might’ve done better if she’d played my dance music was quite unnecessary.

The next day was relatively uneventful – no wind, no possible cat sightings, and I got 90’s in both classes. Almost boring really, except for when we first got there. When we went to check in, one of the stewards was going on and on about an Irish Setter she’d seen a few years back.  About how he’d grabbed one of the stuffies on the figure 8, pounced on it and made it squeak to get people’s attention, and then danced across the ring, tossing it in the air. Well, if you haven’t guessed by now, my reputation is well established, because that Irish Setter was yours truly.  No one else can ham it up for an audience like I can.

Oh, by the way, if you don’t want me touching the damn stuffies, don’t go putting them out there!  And in dinner bowls, too!

Later, peeps.