Anyone who has been reading this blog knows that I was having separation anxiety over leaving Olive at a kennel while I went off to fiddle camp for a week. Olive compounded the situation by being an absolute sweetheart the week before I left her off. I think that she knew something was up as I assembled my tent, sleeping bag, and other gear I would need. On Saturday morning I got up as usual, took her for three walks, gave her breakfast, and finally took a deep breath and drove her to the kennel. It sure looked to me as if she was giving me a devastated look of abandonment when I handed her leash over to the kennel staff member who checked her in.
I had a good time at camp, as I have had every year for the past twenty five years. For formal classes I took a class on English-style fiddling, a class in playing harmony, a waltz orchestra class, and a class on "how to jam" during the sixth and last time slot. The last one was a bit basic, though I still learned a few useful things. In past years I joined a Quebecoise jam session during that sixth time slot; I hated to miss it this year.
I have long been friendly with a couple from Massachusetts that goes to the camp every year. I discovered that they have a border collie of their own. It was nice to commiserate with someone who missed "Angus" as much as I missed Olive.
Normally I sleep late on Saturday of the camp, have a leisurely breakfast, break down my tent, pack up my gear, and take my time getting back home, stopping at a large shopping mall in Danbury Connecticut for lunch and to look for a birthday present for my dad, as well as to pick up anything that I was kicking myself for not having during the week. This year I broke down my tent and packed on Friday afternoon, partook of our Friday night "review" program (each class gets up and performs), and sacked out in my sleeping bag on an empty bunk in the dormitory. I got up at 5, showered, loaded what little I had left into my car, and was on the road by six, stopping for coffee at a diner along the way. My excuse was that my sister was throwing a family gathering Saturday afternoon that I wanted to get to on time. I have to admit that wanting to get my dog back was also a factor.
I got home around 9:30, emptied my gear onto my living room floor, and arrived at the kennel around 10:30. I was told that Olive ate well, had a grand time with the other dogs, played catch with a staff member during her daily individual play time (for which I paid extra), and seemed happy the whole week. They brought her out fresh from a bath, she looked at me as if to say "oh, is it time to go home now?" and gave me a kiss. She hopped right into my car for the ride home, and pulled me straight to the front door when I got her out. After a short time for her to savor being back home and sniff at that pile of stuff in the living room wondering what it was, we went for a walk, then another. At 2:00 we went to my sister's, where Olive had more fun training all the people there, including a little girl who couldn't have been much over four years old. Olive delighted all by showing how she could catch her doggy toy in midair, over and over and over......
After the party was over we went home where Olive collapsed on her bed and slept soundly through the night. Today she seems quite back to normal, pestering me for walks and to play catch. Nice to know that she was fine at the kennel and all my worrying was overblown.
I am contemplating going to a similar fiddle camp in Maine later in August, which I hear still has some room for additional campers. I feel much better about leaving Olive at the kennel. Hmmmm.....stay tuned.
Woof!!!
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