Preparation

The thin gray man pulled his truck to the edge of the greenest part of the field behind the church. He adjusted his cap then carefully unloaded the plastic fences, jumps, marking poles, see-saws, a-frames and the orange traffic cones in the middle of the field. With calculated moves, he had set out the apparatus to prepare his dog for the upcoming trials a short time away. Adjusting each item, checking their position and height just so, pacing off the space between the cones and white stakes measuring here and there to be sure. His black and white Afghan jumped out. The dog followed his signals and moved over and around the folding fences, weaved through the orange cones, jumped the hurdles and got a treat and and encouraging word each time it was right. The rain came suddenly but neither the man nor his dog neglected their duties. The next day, at the same time, almost exactly, he returned. This time with a tall, shiny, black poodle. The routine was a little different. The poodle more advanced, quickly ran the gates and wove its way through the cones. Each received their reward in time. The man, filled with pride. The dogs filled with soft praise and biscuits.