Pooped

Yesterday I was sooo tired, I thought I was going to pass out before I left work. Hopefully, I'm not getting sick.

I went to boxing class after work, which I think actually helped to energize me a bit, instead of killing me like I thought it might. On the drive home, I listened to the sports news call the last 17 seconds of the Sharks-Flames game. The Sharks lost, and were eliminated from the Conference Finals. Grr.

I got home, showered, and ate a dinner of cream of mushroom soup and toast. If that doesn't sound like a dinner born of raiding the pantry, I don't know what is. Then I worked with Bandit a bit on the weave poles. He's getting better, and I almost got him to do the whole thing without having me run alongside him, but he still stops to look at me before he gets to the end. I'll have to try to work with him in a more open space than our hallway so that I can try to get him to pick up the speed.

Marc's new nickname for Bandit is "Ferrari." He was talking to Bandit last night telling him that he definitely would sell him if someone offered us $100,000 for him (which would never happen, but apparently that's Marc's threshold of attachment to the dog - which for him I guess is pretty impressive). I said, "you'd probably go out and buy a Ferrari with that money. You'd trade your dog for a Ferrari." So all last night he was calling the dog "Ferrari."

There's an agility trial this weekend in Livermore, and Marc and I are going to go for at least one day to check it out. I've watched a few on TV, and they're pretty cool, so it should be fun to watch one in person. If anyone wants to join us, you're more than welcome to.