There was a time over winter when Dillon really didn't know if he was too fond of snow. He actually refused to pick up the Chuckit ball if it had any snow on it whatsoever. Somewhere along the line, that changed. Out for a play session over the weekend, Dillon sought out the snow banks still lingering around the small arena, ball in mouth. He spent a good ten minutes or more running their length, tossing
A couple weeks ago I was working Dillon under Deb's watchful eye. We were taking a group of sheep out of the pen and it didn't go smoothly. Why would it? Dillon's just a youngster and we haven't worked a whole lot. We got the job done after a fashion. It weren't purty. Once the sheep were out, I laid Dillon down, and closed the gate. "Why are you closing the gate?" Deb asked. "Huh?" I tend
It seems like ages since I dragged my camera out. Judging by the quality of the photos and the fact I forgot to check my settings, I'd guess it has been ages. In any case, Jig & Dillon RRREEALLLLYYYYY needed to get out and blow off some steam, and the weather was actually decent. I'm just glad they can play together now. For the most part. Until Jig can't any more and pins Dillon and
I don't often use this blog to pimp my writing endeavors (beyond the link over there --->), but I'm doing a bit of a media blitz this weekend, so bear with me. (And if you make it to the bottom of the post, there is something dog-related. Really.) If you read epic fantasy (with just a touch of romance), or even if you don't but might like to try it, now is your chance to get
It finally arrived, complete with single digit temps and sub-zero wind chills that freeze the snot in your nose. Winter. Don't get me wrong, for the most part, I like winter. Seriously. I love the nights when the silence is so thin a single whisper fractures it, the way the stars sparkle, and the way the wind dances with the snow across the open fields, spiraling it upwards in crystalized waterspouts. The thing I hate about winter is
For those of you who don't know, when I'm not at the dayjob, spending time with family & friends, or doing something dog-related, I write. (If you're interested in knowing more about that, please visit my author site and, if you're extra crazy, sign up for my Guaranteed No Spam newsletter.) Because I write, I read quite a few author blogs. One of those I frequent is terribleminds, the home of Chuck Wendig who, according
I love when a trial photographer is on site. It's usually the only time I get shots of my dogs working. It also helps me realize that perhaps my runs weren't as bad as they felt from the inside. It's always extra special when Dick Bruner is that photographer. Not only is he a great guy, he has a talent for catching those moments when it appears things are actually going good. Here is some of
Anyone following this blog may have noticed I've been a bit down in regards to my trialing. It's gotten even worse since what I feel was my horrendous job handling in July, and I've been really struggling mentally: beating myself up, comparing myself and Jig to other teams, and waging war with self-doubt and frustration. There were a few times I honestly questioned why I keep doing this. I have a good dog with quite a bit of talent