Thankful for even the NQ's

I just watched a youtube video about a former agility dog that was retired after being hit by a car. She now uses a wheel chair but still has her spunk. (here is the link if you would like to see it: http://ireport.cnn.com/docs/DOC-713416?ref=feeds/latest) Anyway, after watching the video, I thought about how our runs are numbered, and we may not get to choose when the last one will be. And I thought about how this team would love another run together, even if it was an NQ (non-qualifying).
Maggie and I are on an agility hiatus until New Years when we resume with a USDAA trial. And when we enter the ring for our first run, we will do it in honor of Zip and all the dogs that have retired before us. And though I've never been good at New Year's resolutions to lose weight or stop cussing, I'm going to do my best to keep this year's resolution; and promise to be thankful for every run... especially the non-Qs. And if I can be thankful for the runs that Maggie made an error on, just maybe I can be thankful for the ones that I screw up, too.

Me, Border Collies, and personal space

I always think that people have something in common with the dogs they choose. Either they look like the dog, they have common traits, same silly quirk- SOMETHING. However, I've never found my commonality with border collies. They are sleek, fast, athletes. I'm not. However, I finally found one thing that we have in common. All of the border collies that I have known have a really big personal space bubble. They seem to want to keep everyone and other dogs a certain distance away unless they are very comfortable with them. Not at all like big hunting breeds that will bound toward one another and get face-to-face. I understand this, because I too, like to have a big distance between me and the next guy. I don't want to stand close, I don't really care for people that touch me when they are talking, and unless it is a BIG occasion, keep your hugs to yourself. It isn't a measure of how much I like someone, it is a measure of space alone.
So imagine my horror when I walked to my seat on the airplane to find that I have been seated next to a women who is so LARGE she clearly cannot contain her body in her own seat. Normally, when seated next to a large person, I ask them to put down the arm rest. While it does not create a real barrier, it at least defines my space. I didn't bother to ask her to do this, because her body was 2/3 in her seat and 1/3 in mine, and the arm rest would have had to bisect her kidney (or something). So I did the best I could, scooting to the far edge of my seat and sitting on one hip. Nevertheless, her thigh/hip/abdomen flab, RESTED ON MY LEG. Occasionally, she would adjust in her seat and it seemed that every time, more of her came onto my lap. Furthermore, her chest was so big that it brushed the seat back in front of us- so she had no place to put her arms. One of which, of course, also came into my seat area. In an attempt to avoid as much as possible, I turned my head, shoulders, and one leg to the aisle. And, since I was in the next-to-last row, everyone brushed against me on their way to the bathroom (yuck). But the REAL topper was when the guy across the aisle got up, not once, but THREE times to get in the storage over my seat. Yes, make that picture in your head and you will understand my concern. I almost asked him his name because it didn't seem like I should be that intimate with a stranger.
Anyway, I managed to survive the ride, but I’m still holding onto the creepiness of it. I guess that is a dog trait I need to work on- shaking it off and moving on.