Good news. Bad news.

Well, I know that some of you are waiting to hear about my Rally adventure last night. So let’s begin there.  That’s the GOOD news….

My human had a busy day running errands – and dealing with the ongoing marathon bathroom renovations. Yes.  It is STILL ongoing.  She picked up her mother – who was going to hang out with Paxton while Frodo and I went to do our rally thing.  The rally thing was at a training facility about an hour from home.  And of course, we left so that we arrived with 8.8 minutes to spare before Frodo had to get in the ring.  Talk about cutting it close.  Despite the fact that neither of us has done any training lately – except for our short session on Saturday, Frodo goes in the ring like a pro.  He is entered in Rally Excellent.  The only problem – they recently added LOTS of signs to the Excellent level – and my human was…er…not completely prepared.  But this was thankfully a FUN practice match (with NO prizes) – so it wasn’t a huge deal that she had to keep stopping to figure out the signs.  And Frodo kept barking at her – to “GET THIS RIGHT!!!”  They had a not bad run all in all, and my human was pleased with how he did – despite her lack of knowledge and their lack of practice!

Then it was MY turn.  I DRAGGED my human out of the car.  I dragged her into the facility.  I was pulling on the leash like I NEVER had an OUNCE of training in my LIFE.  My human expected the worst.  And to top it off – I am doing Rally Advanced – which is all OFF leash.  I have my Rally Novice title (which was ON leash)  and the next level is Advanced, then Excellent.  The course that was set up had signs for Advanced AND Excellent.  My human’s hands were shaking as she took off my leash.  She pictured me bolting into the obedience ring, which was right next door.  But as she took off the leash- a bright light shone out of the sky and a miracle occurred.  I went into competition mode.  My human said “let’s go” – and we did.  I was AWESOME.  Honestly.  I was awesome.  For a guy who has done NO practice, I was amazing, if I do say so myself.  To top it off, my human was so shocked, she did the Excellent course with me – by mistake – and I rocked it.  My human was so happy, she nearly cried.  Really.

All the way home she kept telling us what brilliant boys we were.  She was soooooooo pleased.

And now for the BAD news. 

We got out of the car when we got home – all excited and ready to run in the house and see Paxton.  My human told us to pee before we went in.  Frodo did – but I bolted around the house – and into the woods.  It was dark by this time….My human thought I might have run off to poop.  WRONG.

After a minute or two, my human began to wonder where I went.  She called me.  Her mother called me.  I was GONE.  How could this happen?  I had been so good?  It had been a perfect evening.  I was gone now for about 10 minutes.  Just as my human was about to come out with a flashlight and a bowl of food – I appeared at the door.  My human opened it and I raced in.  It seemed that all was again right with the world.  Guess again.

As soon as I came in, my human saw me rolling in the carpet.  And pawing at my face.  “OH. MY. GOSH. OH. NO. OH. NO.” She exclaimed as she looked more closely at me.  My face was full of porcupine quills. 

For those who are reading this and may not have porcupines in their part of the world, allow me to describe them.  They are large, slow, sloth-like creatures who come out at dusk and roam around in the night.  They are covered in thousands of sharp quills – that are like needles.  Contrary to myth – they do not shoot out their quills at other animals.  Other animals – like not-too-bright  - or should I say "curious" dogs, decide they want to "sample" a porcupine – and the quills come off.  If you Google dogs and porcupines, you will find some pretty horrific examples of not-too-bright - er, curious dogs.  Add my picture to the list.

So my human took one look at me – and had two choices.  Throw me in the vehicle and head to the Animal Emergency Clinic, where they would sedate me to remove the offending quills.  OR.  Try to remove them herself.  She opted for choice #2 – as it didn’t appear that I had TOO many.   So onto the grooming table I was whisked. She grabbed some pliers and began the painstaking process.  As I attempted to eat the pliers, my human had me in the wrestling hold to pull those things out.  I was NOT a happy camper.  But then, neither was she.  All the quills were around my muzzle – thankfully none in my mouth, around my eyes or in my nose.  If that had been the case, I would have been seeing the Vet.

All in all, she pulled out about 40 quills.  She DID call the Emergency clinic to see if I needed any antibiotics or anything, and they said no.  Apparently I wasn’t the first dog last night who met up with the prickly buggers.

After my human was CERTAIN I had no quills left (I mean we are talking magnifying glass inspection), she went to take her poor 86 year old mother home – who witnessed the in-home surgery.  This was QUITE enough excitement for her – and ALL of us. 

On the way back to our house, as my human was driving,  she ran over SOMETHING that someone had hit on the road.  She hates to admit this – but she’s secretly hoping it was a porcupine…

So the evening began with an obedient dog…and ended on a less-than-obedient note.  As I always say – never a dull moment in our house!  We like to keep everyone on pins and needles – pun intended!

©  Linda Wozniak