He took to racing immediately. There was no adjustment to muzzles or loading in the box. The first time I put a muzzle on him, he was 4 months old at a fun day. He just looked at me like, "Ok, mom. I'm ready to do my thing!". He never fought going into the box and actually finished his first race without stopping and fussing with his muzzle. He would stalk my dad. Dad would sit on the couch and Boogie-butt would be walking through the living room, stop and look at Dad out of the corner of his eye, and then.............POUNCE!

 

To date, I really think he was the nicest dog we have bred. We kept him mainly because we'd screened anyone who'd called about a puppy out. It was not a decision we regretted. We never got to take Bogart to a trial. The year he was born, there were no trials in the area. We'd planned to take him the next spring. A few days after he and Caesar turned a year old, I was getting ready to send for registration papers for Bogart and recording for Caesar.

 

Caesar, Cleo, and Bogart busted through my screen door and out into the night. I got Cleo and Caesar captured and contained in my car when I started for Bogart. He was across the street from me right as the street topped a hill. I'd started to head toward him and he started darting across the street in my direction. I screamed at him to stop, but he didn't listen. A truck topped the hill and took my boy from me. I got to him and he was still breathing. I hollered at the neighbor to call the vet to meet me at the clinic. I pulled into the parking lot and put my car in park as Bogart took his last breath. My vet had not arrived yet, but his parents lived behind the clinic. His father had actually started the clinic. I carried my boy around the back of the clinic and arrived at their doorstep sobbing uncontrollably. They let me in the back door and shortly after, their son arrived. They sat with me and called me a ride. They got me a box for Bogart and helped me out. They never charged me a dime for the after hours call. They even made a donation in his honor to Kansas State University and the veterinary program there. I will never forget that night and what they did for me.

 

We buried Bogart on a hillside with a beautiful view of the mountains and a tennis ball...balls were his very favorite toy. His rabies tag and city license go with me everywhere as they are on my key ring with my car keys. I miss you my little Boogie-butt.