Clean Run - December 2020 - 12

So my message is this. Agility is not just something I do on the side. It's true that I have a job,
a husband, and other pleasures that I value. But I know what is at the center of things now.
I know what I look forward to in the day. I know what I think about when I drift off to sleep. I know
what will focus my attention and bring out my competitive spirit. It is trying to excel at an incredibly
difficult sport, together as a team with a smart and sometimes difficult dog, in a community of friends
who are as serious and as devoted to this activity as I am.

backyard fence to express their relief and pleasure that she
was safe and back with her family. The clerks at the post
office phoned at 8:00 a.m. the next day just to confirm that
she was home and safe! When Chuck stopped to get a pizza
at Mickey's, our neighborhood pizza establishment, the
bartenders rushed out from behind the bar to shake hands
and clap him on the back. Two people sitting at the bar who
Chuck did not even know exclaimed excitedly, " Maggie's
back? Oh, how wonderful! " The vets and the staff at our veterinary hospital, the groomer who scheduled Maggie immediately to be trimmed, and the pet food owner who printed
a free id tag for her collar, all were invested in this event. It
seemed they each had a stake in the outcome that was authentic and heartfelt. There was a lot of crying and hugging
those first days that she was home.
There are a few things that have stuck with me since then.
First is a new humbleness about what really matters. I am
so truly grateful for all the concern, help, and even anguish
that my friends experienced when this happened. This extends to the many people who I never met directly but who
shared posts, looked for Maggie around town, put up posters, and expressed their support in one way or another.
And now, I want to say why I am writing this down for others to read. It is my new discovery that doing agility with
Maggie has positioned me in a community that has become
precious and dear to me. By far, my friends who were most
stricken by Maggie's theft and those who responded immediately with their time, energy, and concern were my agility
trainer and all of my agility classmates that I have gotten to
know over the last two years. Sometimes this took the form
of a simple email, " I'm so sorry. I just can't imagine how you
feel. " Others busily printed flyers and posted them around
town.

And then, when we returned to agility class just one week
later, it was like I had come home. Because what I realized
during that awful wrenching week without Maggie was that
all of these people and their dogs were at the center of my
life. We have cheered each other on at workshops and seminars, in classes, and at trials. We have walked ridiculously
hard courses that our trainer has set, laughing and shaking
our heads about how unlikely it would be to remember the
sequence. We have been challenged and encouraged by our
intrepid trainer, who is both a coach and a friend. And then
it seemed we were collectively sad about Maggie, and so
very overjoyed to be all reunited again.
So my message is this. Agility is not just something I do
on the side. It's true that I have a job, a husband, and other
pleasures that I value. But I know what is at the center of
things now. I know what I look forward to in the day. I
know what I think about when I drift off to sleep. I know
what will focus my attention and bring out my competitive
spirit. It is trying to excel at an incredibly difficult sport,
together as a team with a smart and sometimes difficult dog,
in a community of friends who are as serious and as devoted to this activity as I am.
During those seven days without Maggie, I felt stricken and
bereft, like my heart had been ripped apart. But I came to understand that this loss was larger and deeper. Losing Maggie
also carved out a hole in my life that was usually filled with
agility training, agility classes, conversation about agility and,
most of all, companionship with those people and their dogs
that make up this precious community to which I belong.
We shouldn't have to lose our dogs for even a day to realize
and to appreciate this most profound truth: agility is not
something we do on the side. It makes us whole. It makes
life coherent and meaningful. It makes life worth living. D

Beth Dixon is Professor and Chair of Philosophy at S.U.N.Y. College at Plattsburgh, New York. Her Australian Shepherd, MontRose Magpie or " Maggie, " is three years old.
They have been working hard to learn this sport for the last two-and-a-half years and just beginning to trial in ASCA and AKC Open Standard and Jumpers; soon to move
up! Beth trains with Robin Magee at Aussie Acres Agility in West Chazy, New York (https://www.facebook.com/aussieacresagility/). Beth can be reached on Facebook at
https://www.facebook.com/beth.a.dixon or emailed atdixonba102@gmail.com

Clean Run | December 20

https://www.facebook.com/aussieacresagility/ https://www.facebook.com/beth.a.dixon

Clean Run - December 2020

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Clean Run - December 2020