The license plate I just saw on a Lexis, no less, reads "MIZ YOYO". So, maybe it's a more popular name than I thought.
My YoYo is a young dog (under the age of two) who, I thought, was ready to show in an agility trial. However, in the true spirit of growing children, Yo drew from her instincts and some long ago connection to a Beagle and late on Saturday afternoon put her nose to the ground to sniff out . . . Who knows? Mulberries, perhaps. She eats a lot of these on our daily walks. Perhaps she had a bead on the preceding canine performer who had completed the run. Surprised occasionally that her nasal quest put her in front of a jump, she either walked around it or took a lazy leap over it, before dropping her nose to the ground again. Her intense curiosity over this enticing smell had not abated by Sunday morning.
On Saturday, in retrospect, I should have just picked her up and ended the run before I made a complete fool of myself. I would have done so, had I not been misled by her earlier performances into believing she would suddenly look up, see me waving my arms and repeating one word commands and would smile, apologize and begin her high class performance. I could have, however, just accepted that she's young and distractable and not yet all that confident about what she is doing in an agility trial. It's the old gambler's lament - shoulda, woulda, coulda! And, believe me, working with dogs is often a gamble.
Sunday, with the wisdom of my Saturday experience firmly planted in the reachable part of my brain, I knew just what to do when Yo failed to pay any noticeable attention to me. I gently picked her up and cuddled her (well, not exactly cuddled) and left the ring, thus charitably contributing my rather substantial remaining entry fees to the Bloomington Obedience Training Club.
YoYo is not a part of my license plate and is unlikely to be displayed there or on any other sign of my life's successes for some time to come.