Brockle and I went to protection practice.
Dog after beautiful dog worked like a maniac.
Steady, focused, they would have worked all day if they could.
Then it was our turn.
|Bad guy! There's the bad guy!|
|I chomp bad guys!|
|You better run! And your mama too!|
|Whoa there, bad guy, just a sec...|
|Dude. Can't you smell that?|
|Um, Janet? He's not listening.|
|Seriously, tell the bad guy to cool it. OK?|
|"Are you shittin' me?" asks the bad guy.|
|Week old dog treat, a little moldy....nom, nom, nom.|
|Good dog. Sigh.|