How do I describe Otterpop? She's very, very special. If by special,
you mean evil. Someone out on Larkin Valley road captured
her one day, she was chasing cars on the road for a couple
days with a border collie. This that and the other, someone
thought it was my dog and I ended up taking her out to work
with me. She looked like a weird, runty version of Ruby. Ruby
is elegant, Otterpop is sort of bizarre and wrong like. She
is put together from chihuahua and cattle dog parts, we call
her a Watsonville street chihauhua. She was probably about
6 months old when I found her.
She loves the frisbee. She loves the ball. She loves the
stick. She loves to chase and then posess these things. She
wants to be the center of the universe. She used to want to
chase cars more than anything, that is pretty much gone unless
the car is named the UPS truck. She herds things. She likes
to help at the ranch.
Stuff gets up her craw. People. Dogs. Agility Judges. She
used to have a hair trigger, now we can keep the freakout
meltdowns under control thanks to the magic of the
dog training. Otterpop is probably about 11 years old now.
Otterpop achieved things in agility I would have never dreamed of for a stumpy dog from the side of the road. She's competed in Regionals and Cynosports, and made regular appearances in the USDAA Top Ten, including the Number One spot her final year of trialing.
There are still bugs in the system. She works on being good every day of her life. She has a large arsenal of cute circus tricks. Don't
tell the other dogs, but this one is crazy smart, as long
as I can keep channeling that smartnedss for the powers of
good not evil, we are ok. If she ever learns to use weaponry
or write manifestos, we are all in really big trouble.
Otterpop can do anything and she can do everything. There could never, ever be another Otterpop.
photo by the amazing Diane Morey