With my increasing endurance, coupled with a solid and enthusiastic 'lie down!", plus Jen's ability to hold a position and stare, if she could only whistle, we would KICK SOME SERIOUS ASS on the trial field.  I'll have to check the rules and ask Patrick about working with her on the welsh tones, though truthfully, I'd prefer something more bouncy and latin.  Still, I'm all for tradition. 
I wonder if they make the Astro Blaster in bacon flavor.  That would help.  

This weekend we 'ran' in the 'couch trial'…which didn't involve furniture but probably should have.  Another 'sport' at which Jen and I excel.  Despite the obvious mixup in nomenclature, it was a fun event and Jen and I enjoyed sucking in a new location on fresh horrible sheep.  

Patrick turned 50 and Ruben threw a great party with the best food and drink ever.  Among the many fun and fabulous people present was Derek Fisher, my arch nemesis and yet new BFF.  I study him as one would an insect that might evolve into something suitable for pinning to velvet and framing.  Or, yet again, might just emerge as a threat to one's sweaters.   Either way, he flutters toward the bright light that is my political future.

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