Maybe I'm just anti-social, but I've never seen the allure of "let's be friends" sites like Meetup.com. I have enough trouble keeping up with the people I already know (even with the help of Facebook) without the added pressure of more "friends." So I was a little reluctant when my wife signed us up for a Meetup group dedicated to hiking outings with dogs.

I've always loved hiking. The prospect of having a tail-wagging companion along for the hike was a major reason my wife and I settled on an active breed. But the reality of my two Labrador retrievers barreling down the trail to greet anyone coming from the other direction has been enough to give me pause. I know there are people out there who don't like dogs (although I don't know what their problem is) and out of respect for them, I try to keep my wild things off of busier trails.

The group my wife signed up for offered an interesting possibility: a chance for Remy and Barrett to careen through the woods off the leash with a group of people who wouldn't be bothered by two Labs crashing into their shins. If we came across any dog haters, (unlikely on a 20-degree Sunday morning) they would be outnumbered. So I herded my girls into the back of the CR-V and set out for a forest preserve in Ledyard.

In all, it looked like close to 30 people, each with at least one dog, were jamming the trailhead along the narrow country road. Once we were out of sight of the asphalt, I let Remy and Barrett off the leash, hoping that some of their obedience training had stuck, and that they wouldn't be the troublemakers of the bunch.

It turned out they were neither the best, nor the worst-behaved dogs on the hike, but I did get an interesting and unexpected window into their personalities. At home, Barrett has always been the clingier of the two, spending most of the time following us around while Remy keeps to herself for portions of the day. At the dog park, Barrett quickly loses interest in playing with other dogs, while Remy ignores me and brings her tennis ball to everyone else.

Thrown into this unfamiliar situation, Remy seemed to lose her confident, independent streak. When the group set out, she ran ahead about 30 yards, only to stop at the crest of a hill to survey the group of humans following her up the trail. She didn't continue on until her eyes stopped searching and settled on mine with a look of recognition. Meanwhile, Barrett had joined the pack of dogs frolicking at the head of the column with no interest in where I was.

As we continued down the trail, Remy would periodically retreat back up the trail until she had located me. Her forays out ahead got shorter and shorter until fell into a slow trot right at my heels. Barrett, though she remained far ahead for most of the hike, surprised me by returning immediately almost every time I called her.

While their enjoyment of off-leash hikes has always been apparent, I had always been reluctant to let Remy and Barrett run free in the presence of other hikers. I was extremely proud yesterday when Remy demonstrated that she and I do indeed share a connection. I can't remember a time when other people actually complimented me on her behavior. As for Barrett, I'm just glad that she didn't run away. The fact that she'll respond to my voice in the presence of so many other distractions shows that there may in fact be some hope for her after all.