Andy slept as well as he could. The room was possibly too luxurious. It was the kind of thing his ex-wife would appreciate. He was more accustomed to Spartan accommodations. The bed seemed to engulf him and he was dreaming strange dreams about failure and its consequences.
He rose early and took a cool shower. There was milk in the small fridge so he made coffee and sat drinking it while he ran over in his mind the routine with the dogs. It all depended on their mood today.
So far, there had been no incidents to disrupt their concentration but one angry outbreak between competing animals could set up a chain of reactions and the control he needed would vanish like the early morning mist outside his bedroom window.
The holding area at the arena was well monitored on Saturday. He pinned his hopes on that situation being repeated today. So much depended on this day. He had told Vilma the truth when he said how much he was counting on a victory but he concealed part of the reason, as he had always concealed the inner functions of his mind and emotions when he was with her. It was an ingrained habit now, and he had no idea how to move from his present guarded position to one of more openness.
He allowed himself a few seconds to recall how wonderful it was to sit beside her in the restaurant last evening. It felt like a normal couple sharing a meal in a nice setting. The only difference was the conclusion of the evening when they went to separate rooms for the night.
It had taken him a very long time to acknowledge he wanted much more from Vilma Smith. He knew it was not likely she would ever climb down from her high horse and see him as he wanted to be seen.
He was totally to blame for this. He had shown her only the worst of himself.
He retreated behind his security barriers whenever she approached.
He made excuses for his cowardice.
He was damaged inside and out.
He was poor and she was rich.
He had nothing to offer her.
He had his one chance at happiness long ago and it was all taken away in a flame of destruction.
He was better off on his own.
It was a familiar litany of despair, often repeated, but the truth of the matter was unassailable.
In spite of every reason he could throw against it, he had serious feelings for this woman.
Deep, serious feelings that nothing in his litany of rational reasons could diminish in the least.
He cared for her.
He would love her if he could.
He was royally screwed.
As he had done so many times before, Andy Patterson turned off this vulnerable side of himself and concentrated on the business at hand.
Today. Astrid and Oscar. A win, if possible. Then, one more night and home.
He collected the dogs from Vilma and warned her they would be leaving in twenty-five minutes.
She was wearing a huge, white, hotel robe over a long filmy nightdress and looked sleepy and soft like a puppy or a small child. He hardened his heart and took the dogs for a fast run.
When he returned, she had dressed and ordered breakfast for both of them which he gulped down rapidly without really tasting it, but glad, nonetheless, for the calories to keep his energy high.
They were parked at the convention centre and in place for the competition in good time. Vilma went off to get a seat and he scanned the performance listing to see how long he would have to wait.
Fortunately, he was placed early because of the previous day’s standings. He noted this competition excluded most of the small breeds and favoured mid to large dogs whose agility was more evident.
He had paid close attention to the mid-sized dogs yesterday and assessed their performances, but today was an entirely different thing requiring a huge amount of skill and strength that was available only in the best of animals under the best of training plans.
He could only hope and pray he had done enough to prepare Astrid and Oscar. He secured the dogs in a quiet corner and went out to walk the course. The first part was much as he expected. The challenges were of moderate difficulty. The second part of the course, which would be where only the best of the morning’s participants would compete, was at another level altogether.
He examined the height of the obstacles, comparing them to the extension capabilities of his dogs’ legs.
He walked the distance between the tunnel and the ramp. He stood and eyed the zigzag course and estimated the largest dogs would not be able to change direction as fast as required.
This alone gave him a modicum of hope. It was a far more difficult set up than he had ever encountered in his years of training King for police work.
He returned to Oscar and Astrid, who welcomed him eagerly. There were ready to go; bright eyed and bushy tailed. He brushed their gorgeous coats to soothe himself more than to make them look more appealing. He talked to them calmly although his heart was hammering in his chest.
They knew. Dogs always knew. They pushed up against him, one on either side and forced him to sit down. They sat and stared at him with tails waving. The message was clear.
They were here.
They were ready.
They would do whatever he asked of them.
He could ask no more.
Everything around him faded from view. He saw only the two dogs and the course. He had decided to do something risky and unusual. Because of the closeness of the two dogs and because they had been trained together, he intended to run the course simultaneously, with Astrid in the lead and Oscar following only a few seconds behind. The risk was that Oscar might not get the signals fast enough to maintain the required control. Astrid was smarter, faster and the leader. He was relying on her to get the instruction quickly and move on independently while he focussed on Oscar.
There was one part that might prove to be disastrous. In tunnel practises in the barn, Oscar had the habit of trying to catch up with Astrid and nip her tail before she could exit. The only way to prevent this, while the dogs were out of sight, was to delay Oscar’s entry just long enough to give Astrid a head’s start. The danger was that their emergence would be out of synch with their entry. The required standard was for the dogs to maintain an equal distance from each other all the way through the course.
The initial phase would show their mettle but the delay between the competitions in phases one and two was a concern. If the dogs were too wound up in the first phase they might lose their edge before the second and most important part.
There was not much he could do about this. Time would tell.
They were up and off soon after the announcements. All went well. Astrid went separately in this set with Oscar following as next competitor. He did not want to give away his master strategy too soon. Both dogs performed well and passed easily into the second phase.
Several animals were eliminated for faults but one beautiful, red, Hungarian Vizsla was an outstanding performer and drew an appreciative sigh from the audience. She would be the one to beat, but she had the long legs of her breed and there was a chance she would falter on the low tunnel task.
In the break between the two sets, he took the dogs out to a fenced area where they could run free. He had signalled to Vilma, who had a front seat, to join them outside. She left her coat on her seat and as soon as the dogs saw her emerge they swarmed her and she lavished them with praise and love in a way he admired, but could not reproduce. His police training did not allow such extravagant expressions of emotion with a working dog.
They loved her with their whole hearts. They trusted him and enjoyed their exercises as a way to demonstrate their strength and power. The two attitudes were complementary but quite different.
He thought, as he watched the trio laugh and play, that he and Vilma were also quite different. The question was; could they ever be complementary?
The few minutes of freedom were quickly gone when the warning bell sounded. It was back to business but the break had accomplished a fresh burst of energy in the dogs. He hoped it was enough.
He sat with Astrid and Oscar but did not permit them to see the arena performances of the first two competitors. The first dog, a good, slender young pointer, was too eager and knocked over a post.
Andy put it down to inexperience and nerves. The hall was now full to the brim and the excitement was palpable. He stroked his dogs and waited for the signal to begin.
The announcer said the next would be a challenging round, one of only three similar attempts they would see today.
As soon as the voice echo died down, he walked smartly to the starting point and stood ahead of the simple stair climb and jump with the dogs, one behind the other, waiting for his signal. Once they began, there would be no pause until they completed the course.
They were off!
Astrid was going fast, so Oscar had to match her speed. Andy stayed ahead of them and monitored the delays to keep them evenly spaced. It went by in a blur, so great was the required concentration, but when the tunnel appeared he changed tactic and stood at the tunnel entrance to keep Oscar back for a second more. Astrid vanished with a wave of her tail and Andy counted in his head. If he missed this calculation, his chance of a perfect score would disappear.
He hardly breathed as he walked briskly to the finish line. He turned, hoping to see Astrid emerge immediately but he was required to wait. The audience also waited in suspense. This was the final test.
Astrid burst out of the tunnel and exactly five seconds later a jubilant Oscar emerged and the two dogs ran to sit obediently at his feet, expecting the praise they knew they so richly deserved.
The arena erupted. Even the announcer was applauding. Vilma was on her feet, as were the judges.
It was a glorious moment, founded on endless hours of practice and the trust between man and dogs.
Andy withdrew and went outside at once. Their participation was finished. It would be an hour or more until the judges awarded their prizes. The parking area was silent and the enclosure was vacant.
To his surprise, he saw Vilma running toward him with her arms out, coat flying and purse dangling from her hand. She launched herself at him before he could summon his defences. His arms clenched around her automatically and her voice sounded in his ear with words he never thought to hear.
“Andrew Patterson, you wonderful man! That was a tour de force! You were amazing and everyone in there knew it. I can’t believe how you handled these two monsters. I love them and I……………”
He was not about to let her finish just in case the sentence ended differently than he hoped.
He bent her over his arms and kissed her mouth soundly and often until the beat of their hearts was synchronized and the dogs lay down in shock at their feet.