First, there was the two-day drive out. In near-constant gale-force winds and driving rain. Just me, seven borzoi, and Brown Betty (my van). Many thanks to Barb for the loan of a cargo platform, it was invaluable!! The sheer amount of stuff
that went to Kentucky with me was, well, staggering. And other than too many t-shirts, none of it was unnecessary. Yikes.The tubs contain: coursing/racing gear; dog food, bowls, buckets, etc.; people food/drinks; dog-washing and -grooming supplies, show leads, et al; people clothes, a change of shoes.
1,350 miles and four tanks of gas later, we arrived. Meeting on-line friends in person for dinner set the tone for the week - everyone was happy to see each other, fervent in their opinions, and filled with sportsmanship.
The field trials occupied Sunday and Monday, and there were some nice borzoi. By nice I mean: sane and functional. Well muscled. Lots of prey drive. A few impressed me, a few were disappointing, and most were in that ho-hum middle-ground of decent runners that left my socks on my ankles. But there were no slackers, and that is always a good thing. I didn't enter the ASFA trial, but did have skin in the game: Gin's sire, grand-sire, and great-grand-dam were all running. (I helped slip.) Gin ran in the LGRA trial that afternoon, but was pulled after P2 following a nasty collision at the finish. (She was fine.) I ran three dogs in the AKC trial on Monday: Rumor finished her MC title from the Veterans class; Py (Specials) and Gin (Open) both placed.
That afternoon I handed off one adult and two puppies and I headed up to the host hotel with a fist-full of ribbons and bling, ready for the next stage of the event. By Monday night I had shed another adult, so was down to a mere three borzoi for the rest of the week. After coordinating 50 meals (and at least four-times that many potty trips) in three-and-a-half days, I was finally feeling like a lady of leisure.
Except for unloading all that stuff from the van to the hotel room - plus two crates, an x-pen, several dog blankets, my cooler, camera, and other front-seat sundries... which sent me to bed with an aching back.
Tuesday was Obedience and Rally, and I will say - hands down
- this was the most supportive competitive environment I've ever been in. Pick a sport, any sport; any time zone, any level. THIS was a great place to be: heartfelt cheers, good-natured laughter, sympathetic groans, supportive classmates. Clear front-runners for the Triathalon emerged, titles were finished, first legs were earned, and the judge's indulgence was much appreciated.Wednesday the entire tone of the event changed. Perhaps it was the quantity of dogs, the endless drone of blow dryers in the grooming room, the wet and shivering dogs walking from the bathing area to the building. Perhaps it was the event type changing, perhaps it was something else. But once the conformation events started, there was a subtle shift. Around the ring, people seemed to fragment into groups, there was less camaraderie. There was a lot of clumping around the results board, muttering and lowered voices. Aside glances, fingers pointing in catalogues, and pursed lips.
In the grooming room itself, sportsmanship abounded. Grooming tables, supplies, dryers, and extension cords were shared as readily as a super-sized bag of M&M's. Two of my own dogs were groomed
for nearly six hours by someone else (six!!) and - I will be honest - looked utterly magnificent when she was done. Paula is a master groomer, and a finer example of a Southern lady would be hard to find. Kindness and generosity, endless gossip and tales of other dogs and long-ago shows filled the air - along with mousse, mist, and whips of dog fur. Scissors sang and brushes flourished and virtually all the dogs stood for endless hours with looks ranging from profound boredom to resignation to quiet contentment.The health seminar Wednesday night was great; the speaker was funny, articulate, thoughtful, and very informative. An excellent use of time and money.
Thursday "regular" conformation classes began. Hallways were progressively more crowded, exercise areas in constant use, and a sense of "I'm late! I'm late! for a very important date!" gave urgency to footfalls in the hallway.
Heaven help you if you took a dog of color into the ring (and few people did),
or one without a lot of bone, or a moderate rear... with few exceptions, you might as well have been standing on a distant planet. Serious rumblings of discontent from the ring-side observers was evident.Thursday night I attended the member education seminar on how to judge Sweepstakes. Focused principally on procedure and administrivia, it provided insights into the realities for judges. More interesting than informative, I thought, other than a suggestion to find the dogs of best type first, then select soundness from among those. Not quite chicken and egg... but perhaps soundness first and type second?
Things weren't quite so bad in the bitch classes on Friday, as there were more colored hounds entered and quality, overall, seemed better than in dogs. I was terribly disappointed, however, when in one class a bitch that the judge had great difficulty in touching was put up over others that were of superior temperament.
After a quick trip to visit a friend's kennel and see some lovely puppies, I attended the judge's education seminar. This is presented several times a year to prospective and current borzoi judges so they know what makes a "correct" borzoi. There were numerous photographs, including two of hounds that had been shaved down (so their coat didn't disguise appearance). In retrospect, I think I would have preferred that photos of outstanding running dogs, rather than highly successful show dogs, had been used. If BCOA is going to tell judges this is a running breed, then let's focus on field performance phenotype, yes? Return of upper arm and croup angle are two items where information presented was inconsistent with experience. Points around tail -set and -usage and sidegait (a trotting breed moves very differently from a galloping breed) also made me frown.
Saturday morning I was up and loading and on the road as soon as possible. Another 1,350 miles and four tanks of gas, I was home late Sunday afternoon. Despite the grueling hours - most days approached 18 hours in length - it was a very worthwhile week. My head filled with possibilities and good memories, I'm already looking forward to next year.
