We survived the Tournament!

Actually, it was a lot of fun, after a rough start. I didn't leave home for the eight hour drive until long after I had planned, and didn't get to the hotel until 3:00 am. The it was walk dogs, feed dogs, water dogs, shower, and up at 6:00 to find the tournament site. I forgot a chair and stumbled around in a zombie daze the first day. I was too spaced to put on sunscreen, had the expressiveness of a corpse, and I think people were afraid to talk to me.

However, after I got a chance to get some sleep, I felt much perkier the second day. My Weasel did very well. She ran flawlessly, over and over. Even when I pulled an evil trick and passed her off to someone else to handle, she was briefly confused and then figured it out. She believed the boxloader was a boogyman, but they were patient.

Spoiled One was a BAD BOY. He was the one we were initially trying to have handled by someone else. The other person was a great handler, and very patient, but Spoiled One was being impossible. I'm surprised she got any runs out of him. She deserves a medal for putting up with him. Honestly, he was like a 60 lb Jack Russell with issues. (Sorry, jack lovers, I know there are some nice ones, but, well, you know. . .)

Weasel was chased back down the lane by a little terrier, but no damage was done. She handled it well, kept running back to me so I could intervene and save her. The little dog left off immediately when I pushed it away and told it no. Poor Weasel. She's getting to be everydog's chew toy. She still has an owie on her nose from the incident at the last practice. It always scares me when the little ones chase down the big ones, because they're really so vulnerable to a crunch or a pick up and shake if the bigger dog takes them up on it.

Anyway, it was a lot of fun for my first open team. The dogs won tennis balls in the raffle, which is all they want anyway.