Lassie Schmassie

Jib here.

Mom and I went to a dog show today. A real dog show. Mom says I was a trial. But that she can't fault me for being a Lassie.

We went into the ring. Mom was happy. I was happy.

Then I heard anger. I smelled anger. I smelled a scared dog. I smelled an angry man. I smelled an upset woman. They were behind the bushes.

I forgot to sit when Mom stopped. I was busy smelling the anger.

Mom told me to Heel and I heeled. But I was worried. I forgot to sit again because we were even closer to the angry man.

Was the angry man going to leap out of the bushes at Mom?

I managed to pay attention to Mom. But when she left me and walked across the ring, the anger got louder and smellier.

Mom called me.

I came.

And I ran past Mom. I ran under the tapes. I stopped in the right place to protect Mom.

I stood and listened to Mom with one of my ears and listened to the angry man with my other one. I wasn't going to let him come near us.

Mom called me again and I came to her.

Mom said I was a good Lassie. The Judge said Too Bad, Really Too Bad.

Mom said I Not Quited in Obedience but Qualified in all things Lassie.

Mom said if I hadn't run off, I might have had a run-off. For a blue ribbon. But she wasn't sad. She was proud.

And Mom says tomorrow is another day.