Inspired by what I had witnessed for weeks on the television, I began my golden journey. With cut 2 x 4 s slung across my back I climbed to the top of the compound's highest roof. The hot Southern California sun baking my corneas and warm choking smog smothering my snout - I started the construction of the mother of all ski jumps. For weeks I have toiled from dawn until dusk until finally... today my work is done. I now vow on this day of days that I shall practice ski jumping off the roof of the compound for the next four years and qualify for the 2014 Sochi Olympics. This will of course put me at 15 years - a time when most dogs my age are well under ground but I remain hopeful and energized. Besides, I'm still in pretty good shape and I have grit.
There is one problem about Southern California winter ski jumping and that is the limited amount of snow in the area. To remedy this I have been collecting the furriest and fattest feral cats from around the Burbank area to use as a landing surface. And the numbers have been adding up as I try to cover the length of the landing point and depth of cushion for this ninety-five pound dog plus equipment. I just hope the local supply keeps up with my daily training. OK, I'm off for my fist session. See you in four years on the podium in Sochi! I'll be the one in the fur coat.
