Fig and I arrived at the trial grounds, a buzz of anticipation hanging in the morning air. The small multipurpose building was already filled with other participants, as there were multiple other sports in different rings. Fig's expressive ears perked up at the new environment, intelligent eyes scanned the crowd with curiosity. I, on the other hand, was battling a bundle of nerves. It was our first trial, and though we had trained tirelessly for the past several months, doubts crept in.
Would she hold her stay? Would she remember to pick up on my cues?
As we approached our turn, Fig’s little wagging tail brushed against my leg, a small reminder that we were a team. Kneeling to her level, I cupped her soft face and whispered, “We’ve got this.” She responded with a lick to my cheek and a steady gaze that melted away my anxiety.
When the judge called us into the ring, my heart was in my throat, hiding my anxiousness with a polite smile. Fig’s focus, however, was evident by her heeling as we walked to the start line. We locked eyes briefly when the judge asked if I was ready, and in that instant, a silent promise passed between us.
Fig heeled with precision, her movements smooth and confident. Her sit was good, her recall swift and happy. I felt my confidence grow with each completed exercise, our trust in each other shining through every step.
The last cue came, and as she executed the final sit, my breath caught. The judge smiled and nodded, and I thanked her for our time.
Relief and pride surged as I crouched to embrace Fig, who wiggled with delight. We had done it—our first trial!