This previous weekend marked the beginning of the dog show season here in the Midwest. The four days in Denver, immediately following the Westminster Kennel Club dog show draw the largest entries in Colorado next to the Greeley Kennel Club dog show in August. There are a lot of misconceptions about involvement in the sport of pure-bred dogs. While appearance and grooming are important, it isn't just a doggie beauty contest. Dogs are judged on how much their actual physical structure matches a written standard for the breed, how correctly (anatomically) they move, plus hundreds of other details. It's a difficult sport to be involved in, but most who are dedicated long-term have a family of people they spend time with - it isn't just about the dogs.
I had four dogs entered this weekend, one of them being my 23-month-old Weimaraner named Dutch. Dutch is a handful by anybody's stretch of the imagination. Weimaraners can be characterized as stubborn and hyper. He is both and neither. I've never owned a dog who wasn't willful and occasionally batty, he is just normal to me.
Friday - Day 1 of the show. We were showing at 12:45pm on this particular day which was lucky. Because Weimaraners and other short-coated dogs do not require much grooming, we are often at 8am. This allows all those Poodle, Old English Sheepdog and Irish Setter people to poof away at their dogs for a few more hours while the rest of us have to drag our carcasses out of bed before the dawn of time just to be ringside at 8am. This particular day my friend Amber was supposed to show Dutch. We spent two sessions together leading up to the show just trying to work out some of the kinks.
Dutch wanted nothing to do with it. He fidgeted. He weaved. And when the judge came to go over him he folded like a cheap tent during a downpour. Obedience is a good component of showing. They have to let a stranger touch them. I would have excused my own dog from the ring, but I'll hand it to the judge for having some patience. Amber tried to get him into position, tried food, tried talking to him, but he would have nothing to do with it. He still ended up with a 3rd place ribbon, out of four. It was slightly better than getting kicked completely to the curb.
Amber is pretty cool in the head for a competitor but the dog was clearly going to be my charge the next day. She whisked him away for a good 20 minutes making strangers talk and feed the dog. He now thinks everybody is going to hand him food, but he still is a little suspicious of judges !
I took the little 68lb. monster home and we had a "come to Jesus" meeting on this contraption called "Happy Legs". Basically, they are pegs the dog stands on in their stacked position and if they move the pegs fall over. They would have been more appropriately named "Unhappy Legs" for all of the struggling taking place by the unwilling canine participant. I made him stand there at 30 second intervals without even flinching a muscle. He humored me.
Saturday - Day 2. Today we were on at 11:15 which is still mostly tolerable even after a 2 hour trip. I left extra early because the snow the night before was, in my mind, going to cause some traffic issues. I really hate it when I am right. There was a wreck south of Castle Rock and we sat in traffic for a good 20 minutes. We still arrived with plenty of time to walk dingleberry Dutch around and drill him on standing still. Saturday is the largest day of the Denver cluster with the most points on the line. Winning would mean he would go from having 9 to 12 points. 15 are needed for a championship.
Part of competing is keeping your own nerves under wraps so you don't spook the dog. Friday left me admittedly edgey and ripe for another day of humiliation. Dutch seemed happy, his tail was up, he was eating and doing normal Dutch things. We got in the ring and he performed beautifully. It is funny how there are fewer words to describe things when they go fabulously. He took the 3 points and we got a compliment from the judge. Knowing how these things go, compliments and good behavior are no insulation from future hair brain-moments - on the part of the judge, human or dog.
Sunday - Day 3. Our time was at 8am. Thankfully the weather was better, but nothing can console you when you are awake at 4:45 in the morning, looking to leave the house at 5:30. I had a brave guest accompanying me on this early morning sojourn who was equally un-thrilled about the early morning time. We made it out the door and to the grounds in Denver in good time. There is very little traffic that early on a Sunday.
Dutch was very snoozy on the ride up. I think he was starting to get worn out and we were only half way through the weekend. He had renewed energy ringside, trying to raid the bait off the top of the crates and hooking me with his right leg. I literally mean...hooking me, like someone would stick out their arm and grab a post, I can't move when he does this. Most people watching find it hilarious. I find it a disturbing attempt at dominance and willfulness. This was not a good sign.
Our turn comes up and I step into the ring knowing what is about to hit me. The judge is wearing a hat. This immediately makes Dutch unnerved. Any trainer will tell you to prepare your dog for these moments. Dutch has seen me in my outdoors hat dozens of times, but it's me wearing the hat and I take it off and the dogs check it out. He started backing up before the judge could even get close. At least he let her look inside his mouth. I tried circling my increasingly agitated dog but we were sunk. To make matters worse, afterwards the judge cranks me out for bringing her a nice dog that she can't touch. I guess I'll send her a video from Saturday. I'd like tell her to stop wearing hats in the ring and lose the pompous Jersey-girl-with-a-$500-purse accent !
My poor friends had to listen to me gripe for the rest of the day. I'd made peace with it by the time I hit my pillow at 4:00 pm for an afternoon nap.
Monday - Day 4. It is President's Day. Some people get the day off, some people go to work. I got up at 4:45 again for the show. This time I was driving up there by myself. I had relaxed determination to make one more grab for points. With only two points possible, Dutch could bring his take up to 14, just one away from his title. I brought along a secret weapon. Quincy. Q is Dutch's slightly younger sidekick. We call the two of them "Bevis and Butthead". It would be a good analogy. Q will be a show dog when Dutch is through competing. He has a way of making Dutch relax and forget that he's supposed to be giving me bad time.
To say the judge on Monday is unpopular might be an understatement. I've heard horror stories about her instability. She is either really mean, completely crazy or a rich blend of both. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I've never been at the receiving end of her wrath though I am always prepared for my turn. Monday wasn't going to be the day. Dutch, after 15 minutes of drilling before going into the ring, pulled off getting two more points. He was generally the most agreeable he'd been all weekend. I'd like to think it finally got through his thick skull that he was supposed to behave.
Amber gave the guy what was left of the egg McMuffin she brought and he was doted on with lots of pets and congratulatory rump-scrumples (for the dog...involves scratching his back, vigorously). We were off to do some vendor surfing before packing up all the crates and heading back home. We ambled over to one of the better toy and leash vendors. Dutch likes this thing called the "jumping weasel". We go over and play with it if the vendor is there. It is a pole with rope. On the end of the stretchy rope is an ill-begotten real fur tail from a raccoon. Dutch leaps around like a crazy dog, stalking and pouncing on it like a cat.
A little boy stepped around the corner and exclaimed "your dog is PEEING!". Sure enough, Dutch had done the 10-40-Hike on a rack of dangling leads, giving the first one a proper soaking of Eau De Dawggie Parfum. I had to stand there for a minute in astonishment. This dog refused to mark a single post, trash can, fire hydrant, car tire, you-name-it on the way in from the parking lot. I guess he's a pee snob - has to have place where no one else has visited.
Huff.
I volunteered to pay for the soaked leash, knowing I could wash it. The owner of the booth said a lot of dogs do that but people just walk off. I got a 10% discount off a pee-soaked leash for my honesty. The leash is not anything I would have picked out though. It is green with hotpink polka dots. I am going to make the dog wear it every time we go to the show as a reminder of Dutch's fickle ttendencies. I am sure he has no idea the colors are a little emasculating for a stud.
Next stop: Garden City, Kan., mid-March. Maybe I'll come home with my 17th champion!