Today was training day. Tino was only half as crazy as usual. I don’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. My dogs were still the craziest, of all the dogs at training. Mu, the seasoned veteran, almost 9 years old, with over 300 found cats under his belt, was still barking nearly nonstop, and he galloped about when it was his turn to work. On the drive to training, Tino actually just laid down and rested about half the time. And when we got close to the park, he was merely excited, not uncontrollably crazy. Lately, I have been talking to him, telling him that he doesn’t need to be so crazy all the time. It actually seems like he’s starting to listen to me. But now I’m worried that he’s sick or something. Although I would be relieved to not have to constantly battle with Tino to avoid one or both of us getting killed, I would also be a little sad to see Valentino acting like a mature, grown up dog, instead of a puppy. Be careful what you wish for, I guess. If this is the new Tino, only half as crazy, I will learn to live with it and enjoy the halfway calmness.

The puppy was there again.

Mu found evidence within a few minutes. Judging by Mu’s reaction, and just looking at the fur and blood, it was pretty obvious what had happened. The owner had been diligently searching for her lost cat. She even found a bit of fur nearby, but she didn’t find this. Even though I was 99% sure of what happened, Mu and I search for over an hour to try to find more conclusive evidence. The Luminol test confirmed the presence of blood, a large amount, more than a cat could have survived without. The owner appreciated our efforts, and was glad to know, at least, instead of always wondering.

Tino and I went to the beach to catch the sunset and fetch sticks in the waves.

Tino searched for Mac in Port Orchard today. It was frustrating for me, and probably for him as well. The first place we searched seems to have been a false lead. It was about 2 miles from the point of escape. After we had searched for a while, we saw a little dog that looked a lot like Mac. That dog was probably the source of the sighting. Tino went after a border collie inside his fenced yard. Tino jerked the leash right out of my hand and sprinted toward the dog. He dove right through a barb wire fence like it was nothing. Tino ran up to the dog and barked right in his face, and then he came back to me. I don’t know exactly what that was about, just sort of, I’m a big deal, I can bark in your face if I want. It wasn’t threatening exactly, not quite playful, just an announcement I guess? The dog’s owner was alarmed. We are probably lucky she didn’t have a rifle quite handy. She seemed to calm down once I got Tino back under control.


We picked up the scent of Mac closer to home and followed it to a fence where we couldn’t get permission to continue. Then we tried to get the scent in two more locations. One was no scent. The other location was positive for scent, but we hit private property again after a block. If it was just an open field, we would have continued. This was someone’s manicured lawn. I knocked on the door, but no answer. I gave the dog’s owner our information, saying where we thought Mac had Not been, and where he had been, so they could follow up.


While we were out searching, we saw an old boxer. He looked a little lost, so I got his picture, and we followed him for a while. Eventually, he went past a yard, and the man in the yard said it was his dog, Banner. “He’s old, and he’s an asshole. He’ll come back soon.”


On the way home, I stopped on the causeway in Purdy to check the sky. I looked around and found a nice cloud to photograph. I was just about to leave when I looked up and saw an amazing cloud, so intricate and interesting. Traffic was whizzing by, and perhaps no one was aware of the magic above them. I almost missed it, and I was actively looking for good clouds. It was huge. It wouldn’t all fit in my camera’s field of view. I took pictures of the main body of it. I’m very glad I stopped to check for good clouds.

I wish I could become a dog and play with them. On the other hand, maybe something about my human brain allows me to appreciate their beauty, grace, and wildness in a way that they cannot. I guess it is their job to be, and my job to know.