It had to happen sometime.

Friends were going to visit, and our shy Darcy’s calm world would be rocked.

Chris and I were ready when my friend and her 22-month-old came to the door Friday. Darcy’s leash was on, and we watched them approach from the storm door.

What we weren’t ready for was extra dogs. Out of the car popped Truman and Tessa, two of the most well-behaved dogs you’ll ever meet. Still, to Darcy, they were impending doom.

Everyone piled in the door, we sat in the living room, and I put poor Darcy in front of me and petted her. In training classes, she’d been taught to sit to greet visitors and strangers. That all seemed lost now. She sat, but she shook like a leaf. I handed my friend a slice of cheese to give Darcy to break the ice. It worked, if only for a few tasty moments.

You’d think I’d go on about how Darcy cowered all weekend. That’s what I was expecting. Instead, I was surprised to see that, once the leash came off and we diverted our attention from her, Darcy calmed down. She roamed, played with her toys and slept at my feet one night while Truman and Tessa napped nearby.

The next day, Darcy and Truman clashed in the backyard. I panicked until I realized … they were playing! Darcy did her usual prancey-dance with her front paws, ears and tail up, goading him on. They ran, chased, pawed and bumped. Penny and Tessa joined in.

As my friend packed up her car, her daughter, Chris, the dogs and I piled into the dining room for our last goodbyes. We grouped together for a photo, then Elena, the 22-month-old, got her last pets in. Penny’s a pushover; she loves everyone and wagged her tail. And skittish Darcy? She sat nice and still while Elena teetered over and patted her back. "Nice Darcy!" she said.

(sigh of relief)