Training her was challenging for me. I was struggling with trying to just get her to go around sheep nicely. I left her with Louise for a few weeks who managed to do a bit of ground work with her.
I spent some time in Virginia with Craig who helped me get into Stella’s head and she and I made some progress. She could walk with me in the vicinity of sheep without taking it upon herself to go and work them. She could wait a moment so I could walk up to the sheep and help her. She learned to be more polite going around the sheep. Still, we struggled and created some pretty bad habits.
The year she turned 2, I took her for a lesson with Scott. I remember it vividly because Stella was his last lesson after a couple of days packed full of lessons. I was proud to be able to walk out to the field with her off leash and have her mind her manners. Scott gave me some pointers and tips with her and we made a bit of progress. The next day, the trial at Dal and Kate’s started. I spent some time talking with Kate who was just getting one of her dogs back from training - aka Boot Camp - with Scott. I started to think that maybe getting Scott to train Stella was something I should consider. I discussed the idea with Jenny who gave me a couple of the particulars and then I asked Scott if he thought it would be a waste of his time if I sent her to him. He said no, he thought she would be just fine. He also said that Stella should be there for about 4 months.
Four months I would have to be without my babydoll. I thought about it and discussed it with a lot of people and by the end of the three day trial, I had pretty well decided that Stella was going to go to Scott the following winter for her own Boot Camp.
I spent the summer trying to prevent any backward momentum with her training and if I made some progress with her, even better. My rhetoric that summer was ‘Do No Harm’. I traveled to various dog trials, not competing with Stella. I fared as I normally do with Data and by the end of the season I was left feeling fairly demoralized and frustrated once again.
I studied the airline rules for flying a dog. I talked to my vet. I planned almost everything. I was to meet Scott at Toronto Airport at around 5:30 am. This meant I had to leave the house at 4am and I had to get up no later than 3am. Everything went like clockwork. I was up and out of the house by 4. I had coffee, Data, Bond and Stella. I planned to go to John and Cynthia’s after leaving the airport. Everyone was on Stella alert. John was planning to make breakfast when I got to their place, Louise was ready with the tissues to help mop up my tears and a stick to club me when my whining got tiresome.
I got to the right terminal and parked my van. Now what? How do I get her, in her crate, inside? Simple, I just needed one of those luggage carts. I close my van up and head to look for a cart. Down the elevator, into the terminal and find the carts. Like the shopping carts at the grocery store they were only released from their locking mechanism by the insertion of a coin. A two dollar coin. I rifle through my pockets and find some pocket lint and other miscellaneous garbage items. Back up the elevator and to my van, dig for a toonie, back down the elevator to the infernal luggage cart rack, insert the coin and release the cart. This has set me back about 15 minutes in my carefully orchestrated journey. Panic starts to set in as I struggle with the luggage cart, finally figuring out how to work it. At five in the morning I don't deal well with confusion.
Back up the elevator and back to my van. Unload Stella out of the crate, haul the crate out of the van, put the crate on the luggage cart. The crate is too big for the cart. I stuff Stella in the crate and dig around in my van for a bungee cord. I bungee the crate to the luggage rack, struggle again to get the cart to move, and finally I was off with Stella.
The crate was a bit cockeyed on the cart and wobbled around as we bumped and clattered our way into the terminal. I couldn’t see any other animals around and started to question whether or not I was in the right place. I sat down and waited for Scott. I was more than a little frustrated with myself for not having thought this bit through.
It wasn’t long until I saw Scott walking through the airport. Angels sang and I swear he was bathed in a heavenly light. Finally, someone who had actually done this before, was here. I could relax a bit. Scott talked me through the procedure and bent down to say hi to Stella. She grumbled at him - more like growled and barked. This made Scott a bit nervous as to whether or not they would let her on the plane. As he talked me through the procedure, I realized that I had no leash for her. Of course Scott had one in his bag. The guy who isn’t traveling with a dog is the one with the leash, not the twit who is actually putting her dog on the airplane. We got to the desk, after I nearly destroyed the lovely little people channel they had. The aluminum posts with the ribbon through, intended to create an efficient line. Scott checks his luggage and we are directed to the baggage scanning area. I took Stella out of her crate so the person in the xray room could put the crate into the xray machine where the crate promptly got stuck in the machine. A solid shove and it was through. Back into the crate went my babydoll and we waited for the baggage handler to come and take her to the airplane. I put notes on her crate not to talk to her or play with her. I didn’t want them to deny her going onto the plane because she was grumpy. Once the baggage handler carted her away I had nothing to do but leave. I checked the time and it was 6:30am. I hadn’t intended to leave the airport until after 7. Fortunately, John and Cynthia are early risers. Once I was back on the highway I called them to tell them I was on my way there. I had only been up for 3 hours but it felt like I had done a full day's worth of stuff.
Just like that, Stella was gone from my life for the next four months. She would be working while I stayed in Ontario and shivered and complained about the volumes of snow and ice. I planned to bond with Bond.
In Cynthia's words: "It'll be fine."
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