We were off and running again this last weekend to sunny Scottsbluff, Nebraska. It is technically in the panhandle of Nebraska, only around four hours away from Colorado Springs. I convinced my good friend from Longmont to join me on the trip though she had to prematurely retire her show dog last month.
I started out early Saturday with three sleepy characters. The new champion Dutch was the most excited about getting in the car for his next trip. He stood in the front seat of the Suburban for 10 minutes while I fluffed the blankets in the crates and rearranged things at 6:15 am. Anybody who is around me at work probably wonders how I can get out of the house by 6:30 am on weekend morning but still have trouble making it to work by 9:00 am on a weekday. We needed to be in Scottsbluff by 3:00 pm.
Q, Dutch's sidekick was going along this time. He wasn't interested in going until he figured out Dutch was already in the crate. D being the anointed all-winning show dog has the fancy crate with the fluffier blanket and more room to sleep. Q still has to go in a regular crate. He tried to cram himself into Dutch's crate along side him. It's a good thing they are both remarkably well-tempered for "complete" males.
(For those not familiar with dog show lingo, "complete" means they are not neutered, which is a requirement for breed competition).
Heidi was not in the mood for a road trip at all. I had to drag her out of the crate in the house and lift her into her crate in the car. Her whining sounds more like a shrieking cat than a dog.
At JoAnna's house I took some pictures of the unruly bunch while waiting for her to load her luggage. Dutch and Q are so brotherly towards each other. They compliment each others' strengths and weaknesses and it would be difficult to say which of the two is more dominant. However, the description "brotherly" might be slightly romanticized. They are more like the two teenage boys from "Bevis & Butthead". Except they poke each other, and silently in their minds say, "heh heh heh heh, you said b1tch". They are sneakier and sillier together than apart.
(Another note about dog show lingo: Female dogs are ACTUALLY called "b1tches", it's not meant is derogatory. It is the technical name for a female dog. Males are called "dogs". I guess it's for the lack of a more descriptive term. You'll find people saying things like, "I have a cute little puppy b1tch who is 4 months old," or "My dog took Sporting Group". If you make fun of it, you might as well stamp "greenhorn spectator" on your forehead. The profanity filter for YourHub wouldn't even let me use the word as intended !)
When we arrived at the grounds we noted immediately the amount of snow everywhere. It was melting and making some spectacular mud. We are lucky in the sense that Weimaraners don't require intense grooming and they aren't white. It is always amusing to see people carrying in their little white groomed fluff balls like they're porcelain. My world is complicated enough. I need to wear clothes I can spill things on and dogs who can wipe clean with a paper towel!
The show was uncommentable. We lost but the dogs behaved themselves. The real excitement started when we checked into the hotel and found out these geniuses had pure white coverlets and sheets on the bed. The staff was generously providing dog people with extra rag towels for the dogs so we could clean up before going into the room.
It wasn't the dogs I was worried about - it was myself. If something white exists, and it is supposed to remain unsoiled, I will subconsciously find a way to spill something on it. Despite consuming red wine, hot coffee, chocolate donuts in the room this didn't occur during our stay. Neither did any dog pee incidents. Lucky.
My friend and I went in search of a decent restaurant for a hot meal and a break from the doggies. We hit the hip steakhouse in town, finding an hour long wait would be an hour too long. In a town of 14,800, there was not a lot to choose from. We drove down to a "suburb" called Terrytown and found an interesting old place called The Gaslight.
The Gaslight had a liquor store attached to it which was a little seedy, but we decided to give it a try anyway. There were several dog show people already seated. You can tell by the number of large vehicles in the parking lot and license plates like "MIKEBIS" (Mike Best In Show), or "CHDOGS" (Champion dogs) or the all-time favorite bumper sticker "Show Dogs, Do Not Tail Gate". I still don't think the sticker is clever or funny. We found out later all of the show judges were dining there as well.
It turns out the menu was rather expensive despite the un-updated 1960's décor. Our waitress had a smokers cough and a certain growl in her tone when she called me "honey". The hostess was very nice but was also pinch-hitting the slacking bar tender. She had a decidedly mid-western accent. The menu choices were interesting. I don't know if I've been in a restaurant where you had side options of tomato juice, spaghetti or soup. The salad was good and the prime rib was excellent - enjoyed by humans and later the dogs.
The next day proved a bust for Heidi and Q. Q has moments where he just cannot concentrate. It did not help there was Rhodesian Ridgeback in a crate outside the ring growling with the kind of sinister tone that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Heidi made it clear that while she would behave herself, she was done for the weekend. Dutch, however, was a very good dog for a change and took Best of Breed. The picture should be coming in the mail in a few days.
Next stop ? Brighton, Colorado in two weeks. This will be my last show until the end of May because one of my girls is having a litter of puppies. Never a dull moment...