I found a relatively new place in the desert to work my dogs. This time it's on a motocross course. Goooooo K-I-L-T. LOL Talk about a work out...hills up and down and everywhere. Then next to the motocross is flat land (acres and acres) with a few unexpected gulleys where the sheep and dog disappear out of sight. And, once in awhile, a coyote or two. On guard. Gun in fanny pack. The things we will do to improve our trialing.
My co-workers think I'm absolutely nuts. I'm turning 60 on Tuesday, endured chemo and radiation this time last year for cancer, but has that stopped me? You gotta be kidding. No way. I'm having way too much fun. Plus Kilt and I got our first open scores in the 80's. Hey, we CAN do it.
The title of this blog comes from watching the Ireland/Welsh National sheepdog competitions on Come Bye (RFD). I love it. They are always going back to the beer tent. What's the matter with us Americans?