Amanda: a longer report from Sonoma

The phone problem was sometimes reception, which was spotty at best in the hills of Sonoma.  I am getting the hang of that thing.

On Sunday, Jeff Blackstone serenaded me with his trumpet–he is a pro–playing the Red Rose of Summer, (what a tear jerker) and Pictures at an Exhibition.  It was in Sandy's barn.  Sentimental music spa.

Sandy Millberg's trial has come to run like clockwork with all her great help, and her own attention to detail.  The settings are spectacular.  The sheep were beauties, (all except the one that got me in the leg) newly shorn range ewes, some a little recalcitrant but what a drag if they all acquiesced.  The judging was good.  The weather was perfect.  It is a two field show.  Clive won on the flat field.  But that rat, Haley Howard, scrunched Roz's 99 with Ross's blistering 101 on the Hill Field.  Clive couldn't catch  Haley and Ross for the championship with his awkward run on the Hill the day before.  I liked his work.  His outrun and lift went like a John Coltrane riff–cooler than cool.  But a ewe tried him repeatedly around the course with trouble to his fetch and drive score.  The kind of ewe you hope Beverly gets.  By the time they were at hand, he had them broken for a thirty point finish.

My flat field run with Clive brought me a sublime moment we all seek in dog running.  He made possible some near perfect turns and took charge just enough and conversely let go just enough.  What a way to come off the winter, when we don't really run dogs around here, and have him go like velvet Elvis.

Roz on the Sonoma sheep

Those two trials, that trip to California could be my favourite excursion of the year.  The dog running is outstanding, but all the diversions, the food, the wine, the gardens, the birds are things of dreams.

The trip home took all day, none of it very nice.  Airplanes and dogs are a miserable combination, made more miserable all the time by increased regulation and vexing challenges in the airports.  If you dwelled on it, you could think it wasn't worth it.  I can forget yesterday, as mothers forget childbirth and go for another one.  If you have to pick two trials to which to fly, these are them.

The was a cold rain in Kingston.  I lit a fire and hit the hay.