Where the road takes us.
Sometimes even the best laid plans don't really come to fruition. And sometimes, no matter what our intentions are, the universe intervenes. A gentle push in this direction. A nudge that way. Occasionally, we receive a slap in the face, a hard-felt shove, or an unwelcome kick in the gut.
Though I am merely a newbie in this sport -- the wonderful sport of agility -- there are things that one learns from day one. Agility, in many ways, is a great metaphor for living. It teaches us to expect the unexpected. We may plan to guide our dogs to a jump or to send our dog deftly through weave poles, yet our furry companions may have other schemes in mind. They may refuse an obstacle or get sucked into a tunnel, leaving us standing alone on a course in bewilderment. But that's life, too.
Expect the unexpected.
We found ourselves in Connecticut. Being a sentimental person, I'd picked this weekend to....sorta...recapture a certain magic we unexpectedly found last year in a tiny little coastal town called Mystic. Mystic -- the irony of its name wasn't lost on me, either. This time last year, Buffy successfully had completed the Yale Canine Cancer Vaccine clinical trial, and to celebrate her final clinic visit, we made a weekend of it. This year, we'd spend a weekend fondly remembering our old adventures, while creating new ones with Henry and Gus.
On the Mystic River. October, 2015.
Weeks earlier, we booked our same hotel -- the LaQuinta Stonington, and we let friends know we'd be in the area. Other than that, we didn't really have plans. A hike perhaps? Dinner at a restaurant we'd not yet discovered? I tend to prefer traveling without a hard and fast itinerary, because I've come to learn that there's a certain "je ne sais quoi" about allowing myself to be open to letting life happen on a whim.
Expect the unexpected.
This same weekend the Tri-State Shetland Sheepdog Club was holding an agility trial in Hamden, Connecticut. Hamden was practically en route to the Mystic area, and we knew some friends were going to be there running their dogs. When I say "friends," we'd never actually met in person, but Facebook has a way of bringing people together. And agility, agility has a way of bringing good dog people together. Why not stop in, watch some good agility, and say "hello?" We also knew that there'd be "family" there as well. Both Henry and Gus come from a New England breeder, and they were bound to meet many half-siblings.
Unequivocally, my Shetland Sheepdogs are people magnets. The minute we arrived at the trial, people turned. They stopped suddenly in their tracks. Unseen forces detoured them -- pulling them to where we were. These were not Shelties they recognized; these were new ones. Although the sport is growing, Agility people really are a tight-knit community. Who were we? Who were our Shelties? It didn't take long for our friends to find us, and it didn't take long for our conversations to seem effortless. Like we'd known each other for years.
We watched some great agility; we watched our online friendships transcend the internet and become "real"; and, we watched Henry and Gus frolic happily in the leaves outside the training facility. As the day drew to a close, we found ourselves making promises to return the next day, though I never anticipated that the agility trial would become the center of our weekend. Meanwhile, Stonington beckoned, as we'd made a dinner date to catch up with old friends.
Expect the unexpected.
Checking into the LaQuinta hotel in Stonington was, simply, a disaster. I'll not rehash the entire ordeal (I could write an entire post on the lack of hospitality displayed by this hotel), but you can read my ineloquent (hey, I was angry and didn't proofread) review here.
I do want to be clear about one thing regarding the LaQuinta: my real problem with the hotel had everything to do with the horrible customer service by a particular clerk and not a potentially changed pet policy.
As quickly as we checked into the LaQuinta, we unceremoniously checked out. While debating as to whether we'd actually stay in a hotel in which we were made to feel unwelcome, I called the The Omni in New Haven, and spoke to a woman named Katie. Unbeknownst to me, she was a manager. I explained to her my dilemma, detailing every horrific detail of our treatment by the LaQuinta staff. Katie assured me that my dogs wouldn't be contraband at The Omni. All two of them would be welcome with open arms (as it turns out, they became four-legged celebrities of sorts amongst the Omni staff). With our plans derailed, we re-packed the car, drove an hour south to New Haven (which conveniently was located about 10 miles from Hamden and the site of the agility trial), and were graciously welcomed at our new hotel. Dog treats, water bowls, and a handwritten note from Katie greeted us. Our seemingly bad evening morphed into a great one. Our Hartford friends were accommodating and met up with us for dinner in New Haven, instead. All was right in our world again.
The next morning, our anticipated Bluff Point hike turned into an urban one through the streets of New Haven and Yale University. And, after only taking a year, we FINALLY got that Yale hoodie we'd promised ourselves when Buffy was accepted into the clinical trial.
Finally!
Jen, Gus, and Henry. Yale, 2016.
And then we found ourselves back in Hamden. Watching some great agility.
World team member Diane Patterson running her dog Catcher.
On Sunday, after the trial, we had an amazing opportunity to connect again with one new friend over lunch and talk. Just being in the moment, with good stories, good company, good food, and a side of Shelties was practically perfection.
Catcher gets the weave poles.
Monday morning found us at the home of another new friend, and owner of two of Henry's half siblings. Because she'd been away for the weekend at a seminar in New Hampshire, she'd generously invited us for a quick breakfast and Sheltie play party before our trek back to Maryland.
When 4 Shelties try to pose....Henry, Gus, Patrick and Ella
The way things fell into place after the LaQuinta debacle caused me to wonder if I couldn't have scripted a better weekend. When I anticipated hikes and nature and adventures and Mystic and pizza (yes, THAT pizza) -- with maybe a hi and bye kind of drive-by at the agility trial -- the weekend bestowed us with people. Good people. People who invited us into their lives. Into their homes. People who unselfishly trusted us with difficult stories -- stories which remain only theirs to share. Through the eyes of these people, we celebrated their triumphs, and we commiserated in their tragedies.
We never got Mystic, and we never got the pizza. Instead, we got much, much more.
