Certain dogs must be made of popping corn. As they spring themselves higher and higher I can't help but visualize microscopic kernels of Orville Redenbacher exploding in their muscle fibers. It's all very meditative until one of the kernels kisses me on the lips or lands in my lap as I sip hot coffee.

I have such a popcorn dog. Indeed for the first weeks after her adoption from Paws4Ever I grew tired of apologizing to every stranger we passed on our walks through Carrboro. My running buddies became equally annoyed at the need for protective undergarments.

Thanks to some refreshingly humane local trainers, we learned a simple strategy for correcting almost any problem behavior. The alternative? Train the dog to touch its nose to a stranger's hand. The outlet? Let the dog jump on the agility field. The transformation? A crazy dog becomes a canine athlete.

There are few things as compelling as watching dogs and their owners work as teammates negotiating a maze of jumps, tunnels and angled structures. But often the beauty is in the back story. Many competitors in agility and other dog sports were at one time rejected, abandoned because they had too much energy or neglected out of ignorance or cruelty. Today as they sprint and leap and move in unison with their handlers, it is hard to see anything but joy.

This Saturday, as part of its Walk for Animal Protection, Paws4Ever is offering an agility exhibition by some of its rescued dogs. For more information you can visit www.paws4ever.org.

Eric W. Fish

Chapel Hill