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The book was typeset and copyedited, the cover finished, the flap copy written and approved; there was nothing else to do, except look forward to publication.  And to try to figure out how best to ease Dusty into promotional mode.  The difficulties with that particular proposition were twofold: first, Dusty distrusts and dislikes people.  Second, Dusty is very seldom presentable.

The first isn't an insurmountable obstacle; after all, I had a year of training and competing him in many different locales and under many different circumstances.  He's accustomed to being poked, bumped, nudged, stroked, prodded, grazed, and petted.  He loathes it-hates it like hellmouth-but he endures it.  And if it gets to be too much and risks pushing over the edge into loup garou territory, he gives me plenty of warning in the way of bristling fur, lowered ears, and curled upper lip, so I can step in in time to stop the apocalypse.

The second difficulty is a bit more problematic. 

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When I got the mockup of the Dogged Pursuit cover, with Dusty sailing over the bar jump against a backdrop of Elysian blue while looking more handsome and serene than he had anything close to a right to, I couldn't wait to share it. I sent jpegs out to various persons who had had a role in Dusty's life, including Natalie, his former foster mom at Central Illinois Sheltie Rescue.

She emailed me back almost immediately, brimming with enthusiasm for the entire project-about which this was the first she'd heard. CISR has a "brag" page, mainly devoted to alumni who achieve agility titles; I used to envision Dusty ending up there. By Natalie's reaction, it seemed this dream was not entirely lost; though it wasn't his successes but his failures-by being sufficiently comic to merit a book about them-that might do the trick.

But one thing perplexed Natalie: "I didn't recognize him on the cover. He looks like a blue, and that threw me. You changed his coloring for the design, right?"

Well, now she'd thrown me. Because there had been no tinkering with his appearance; I wouldn't have allowed it. He looks on the cover the way he looks in reality. Which is...well, dusty. Ashen. Swirls of silver laced by jets of charcoal. In the book, I even attribute his coat to having inspired his name.

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Almost everyone who gets a look at Dogged Pursuit has the same initial reaction: "What a great cover!"  Which is very heartening to me, because it was a long road to get there.  The designers at Hudson Street Press came up with a number of different ideas, but most of them got shot down.  (Okay, usually by me.  What can I say, I tried to be nice about it.  I probably didn't cause more than one or two grown men to dissolve into tears.) 

Eventually they came up with the idea of using an action shot: Dusty sailing over a jump, as seen from below.  The mock-up looked sensational.  The only problem was: how the hell do you shoot a dog from underneath?  The only way I could imagine involved digging a big hole (like a grave, only vertical) and having the photographer climb into it; then setting up the jump on top of him.  This seemed to lack a certain professional polish.  Also, it was December, and the ground was not only frozen solid, but covered with several inches of weighty Chicago snow.  Anyway, I was glad it wasn't my problem.  All I had to do was show up with my dog.

Accordingly Jeffrey and I arrived at the Steve Grubman photography studio on one of those sleety winter mornings where driving is more like hydroplaning.  At Steve's request we'd not only brought Dusty but one of his jumps as well; I was looking forward to seeing where he was going to place it.  Possibly over two step ladders, and Jeffrey and I would just hurl Dusty back and forth over the top.  (Hey, dwarves get tossed, why not Shelties?)

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Robert Rodi is our guest blogger during the week of June 15th. If you have any questions for Robert Rodi, add a comment to any of his posts. 

Here is more information on Dogged Pursuit: My Year of Competing Dusty, the World's Least Likely Agility Dog

Read an excerpt.

Best in Show meets Marley and Me in the hilarious (mis)adventures of an unlikely duo competing for glory on the pro dog circuit

An urban intellectual and a scruffy, disobedient Sheltie team up to conquer the Canine Agility pro-circuit in this hysterical account of the quest for glory in the competitive dog world. A cousin to the popular best-in-breed show, agility competitions resemble doggie boot camp: dogs scamper across teeter-totters, jump tires, and scoot down tunnels-without leashed guidance from a human. Taking home ribbons requires a focused handler and a cooperative dog.

Robert Rodi is a self-proclaimed Blue-stater who prefers fine wine and Italian literature (in Italian) to SUVs and suburban sprawl. His dog Dusty's scrawny build and skittish personality make him an unnatural competitor. Nevertheless, Rodi recounts a year filled with victories, failures, and hysterical personalities, and the loving bond between one man and his bug-eyed dog.

About Robert Rodi: