I ventured over the Claremore Ok this past Saturday evening. Each year at the fair, they put on a little arena trial and all the locals attend. I get to visit with old dog friends and I get a chance to put Little Belle thru her paces. Friends called early and said you'll love these sheep Bob as they're seriously slow and you'll have to push. You can find out how much walk up Belle has. I am not a fan of arena trials. At best, you can't tell whether the same dog will do well in a big field. You can test control though. Did the dog take the whistles, etc. So off I went.
I drew up an early run. I'm feeling good. I'll get home early and not miss much sleep. Then I get the nerves. The jimmyleg shakes. You know when you wish you had some pepto bismol. You don't know if you should go out there lest you have to run back. I wish I knew why? My voice was shaky, my whistle sounded like it had emphysema. I forgot my stop command completely. All the previous draws were sluggards. I get a runner. It's humid and hot and I'm sweating like a teen ager on his first date. As I walk off the disaster the Judge inquires, "is that the nursery dog you've been writing about". I almost lied and said no it's a different dog. But you know, she covered the stock. She took what commands I gave her. I've got a run under my belt with her. I have high hopes.
In that spirit I put in a night time winter picture to cool things off. Summer will end. We will cool off. Please! Snow was on the ground, Ice was in the trees. Cold night.