Dirt Nite starts out looking like this. A vast expanse of a dressage ring with fluffy, really dirty, dirt.

All the agility stuff lives out there in the trailer.

Every single Wednesday night, this happens. We have exactly a half hour to build agility.

This is not fast enough for the dogs.

Everybody lines up to move the a-frame.

We have to turn down a-frame movers!

It’s the best part.

Sorry, Valerie. You missed moving the a-frame!

By 6pm, the joint is hoppin’. We’ve got dogs of all shapes and sizes out there doing their thing until dark o’clock.

Dirt Nite is where I learned all my agility chops from Rob. Where I used to run 3 dogs in a row in class without stopping to take a breath, Hobbes at 26″ then Ruby at 16″ then Otterpop at 12″. Where Ruby finally retired when I figured out she couldn’t see where she was going. Where I learned how to run my favorite border collie ever. Where Otterpop learned how to do agility and eventually to knock out any gamble I could throw at her. Where I attempted to learn how to run the wild machine known as Soja. Where I was sure for so long that Gustavo would never learn how to do weave poles, or any agility at all. Where I learned how to learn from all my supercool beginning students. Where I signed on to learn that fancy euro handling stuff and never looked back. Where I met a lot of my best agility pals. Where at the end of it all, late at night and cold and dark, we packed up all the stuff back into the trailer and locked it up and went home filthy.

For many years, every single Wednesday, we’ve been at Dirt Nite. It’s been going on for 10 years, although I didn’t start out with it because 10 years ago, me and Ruby were just little agility sprouts jumping over brooms balanced on buckets in the barn aisle, with only dreams of fancy stuff like teeter totters and threadles.

Next week, we have the last Dirt Nite ever. It will be done. The masterminds behind Dirt Nite need a well earned break after all these years and so it will be. We sure are going to miss it.