I've been watching a little too much Blazing Saddles in my bits of free time. Fifty bajillion Internet points to anyone who knows what bit of the movie the title of this post is from.
So, we are back on our normal insane schedule, which in a week or two will get just a smidge more insane, whoopee! Thus not a ton of energy or motivation to write, unfortunately.
I also gave myself a flareup on Saturday night, so we didn't do anything that interesting recently. Saturday night was Senior Night for the Stanford men's gymnastics team, so Juno and I went to the meet. It is the first time in I don't know how long that I left a men's gym meet early. This sport gives baseball a run for its money as my favorite, for crying out loud.
Juno and I were sitting fairly high up on one of the bleachers so we could see everything, and there was a lot to see—it wasn't just Stanford and Cal, like normal, but a Japanese collegiate team, as well as club teams from Arizona State and the University of Washington. Stanford, though, has one of the worst main arenas for men's gym of any team. (Iowa is by far the worst, but Stanford is down there. Also, I say main arena because if any team is hosting a conference or NCAA championship, they almost invariably use the larger basketball arena rather than the facility they have regular-season meets in.)
Not only does it have bleachers instead of real seats, there are no aisles on said bleachers. None. So once you're up, you are stuck there. Especially if you happen to be attached to a tall 65-pound service dog. Mentally, I do not do well blocked in, and physically, I was in a ton of pain by the second rotation (there are six). I had not been feeling that great to begin with, but it was the only Stanford meet I could get to so I felt obligated. But that meant I only had a little vest on Juno, because I couldn't take even the pressure of momentum pulling on my arm. Let's just say that when we finally decided it was time to go, it was extremely interesting getting down the bleachers. Thank goodness I had brought Juno instead of Kaline, because at least I didn't have to worry about her behavior as she picked her way through the crowd down the bleachers behind me. Kay probably would have stolen a hot dog or two, or at least kissed several people.
So yeah, I'm still paying for that stupid decision (or series of stupid decisions). The good parts of the meet: We got to see Eddie Penev, among others, on floor, and he's one of the best in the world on that. Everyone was extremely nice to us (especially while we tried to weave down the bleachers). One of the guest services people complimented me on the clarity of Juno's patches and I practically hugged her. That's so what I was going for when I picked them!
Was the meet worth missing a cool SF outing on Sunday with Sonja? Jury is out, just because of the guilt I would have had about not seeing a single Stanford home meet. But with guilt out of the picture? SO NOT WORTH IT. Gaaaah.
Earlier in the weekend Kaline and I went with Mom to the post office and shopping center to train. Post office was a nightmare—a huge winding line of people (two of whom had pet dogs) packed into a tiny inner lobby. Kaline began whining immediately the moment we stepped in. I was stupid for a couple minutes, then realized just how insanely high my anxiety was ratcheting. I asked for a nudge instead of a whine, then booked it out into the outer lobby. As soon as I sat against the wall, Kaline awkwardly but emphatically pressed his chest against mine, eventually working his way into a more comfortable position draped across my lap with his torso pressing heavily into my chest, just the way I need. We stayed out for quite a while before we could go back in.
The shopping center was much better. I had just watched a friend's video of her former foster/SDIT pit bull practicing “under” with various objects, so all through the various stores, I had Kaline do “under” with anything where he'd fit. He was a bit confused at first because it's not something we have worked on lately or very much, but then he got it and was a star. He also retrieved, on command, his In Training tag which fell off his vest and two of those plastic rings they use to hang up scarves. WIN. Another mundane, non-task/obedience but nonetheless very useful command we practiced was “roll” which for Kaline and Juno means to roll onto a hip while lying down. I have been neglecting commands in that category—not a task, not formal obedience, but totally useful—so I hereby resolve to stop doing that and get with the program. Naughty, naughty trainer.
In random cool news, LDS sent us another blue vest. No I did not order it. YES I am keeping it. I already ordered another set of patches. Once it's got all its stuff sewn on, I'll take our current one back to the tailor to get the patches sewn rather than what they currently are, glued. Bleh, glue.
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