I had planned to run a three-day AKC trial this weekend. I had planned to play with Belle in Jumpers for PACH points, and for Double-Qs and MACH points with Connery, and practice whatever short course pieces that Dart could manage.
I had not planned to take a wrong step before the third obstacle of the first course of the first trial day and blow up my hamstring.
This is me, except I'm not grey and see-through.
Hamstring: I hate you.
Uh huh.
So, here’s my good luck!
~For the first time ever, there was a massage/chiro professional on the premises. He was drumming up business and affordable. Belle had some work done, too.
~A friend from my former agility club had traveled over for this trial. We learned from the same instructor and have the same foundation running style. Belle was in those classes, too, and Connery trained with her dogs for the first years of his life, and she was willing. If I had to pluck any single person out of thin air to sub for me…yes, it would have been this person.
~Dart is not ready to Q, anyway. Working on a few starts and then exiting on success was probably the better part of valor, hamstring notwithstanding.
~On that first, fateful run, Connery burst forth with such vivid joy that in spite of the fact I ran (er…lurched…hopped…) stunned and pain-blind, he not only made a tremendous save at the point of the injury, he went on to run a beautiful course. And Q’d, and took a rare (for us) first place.
(You see what I mean about The Heart of Dog.)
And there were many other bits of goodness, like the old Ace bandages we had waiting at home, the fully stocked Tiger Balm, the excellent advice and support from trial friends, and the very understanding judges.
Belle, it turns out, was too anxious about running with a substitute handler to Q, even one she used to hang out with. We told her she’d done very well, regardless, and she was much relieved and believed us.
Connery, it turns out, remembers his friend and did, after some initial concern because it wasn’t ME, think it was a tremendous party to run with her. He continued with his wonderful glee of Friday, and built on our Double Q to earn two more on Saturday and Sunday, turning in some wonderful times.
Oh, yes–he had some very hard mornings before it was time to run, with choking and wheezing fits; I wasn’t sure, for the first time, if he’d manage the days. But I’ve learned that he breathes differently when running a trial course, and so far, he’s not having trouble on the course. So we’re threading the needle for as long as we can–because, hello…the only thing sure to wreck his ability to cope with what’s happening is to take away the things he loves.
Two weeks until he sees the specialist. Maybe by then I’ll be lurching along more smoothly…but I am very carefully not tempting fate by planning on it!
