Perception is Reality

Flying back from Texas this weekend, I had an enlightening and disturbing conversation with a seatmate.

Enlightening in that how breeders are (sometimes? frequently? always?) percieved by rescue groups; and disturbing in that, well, her view was utterly toxic.

After a little "hi, whatcha reading" chit-chat, she mentioned that she volunteers with a local breed rescue group - and that she hates breeders. Hm, I said. I'm a breeder.

Awkward silence.

She's involved with a very popular breed, and no doubt sees more dogs in a year locally than I do borzoi at Nationals. But, still...

As we chatted over the next hour, we traded stories, the way strangers do when looking for common ground. She told me a sad story about a friend who paid a fortune for a puppy from a breeder and wound up with a health problem - must be a terrible breeder, she said. Well, I said, maybe. But sometimes we do all the health testing available, generation after generation, and mother nature will take you out for a spin. I told her about Bruno, and showed her the OFA database listing his ancestors' clearances - she didn't know such a thing even existed! 

She told me about her daughter's new SUV, and how they go on home visits together. Ah! I said. Yes, I require that too. And told her about a buyer that didn't get a dog from me due to inadequate fencing and an unwillingness to improve his fence.

Wow, she said. I didn't think breeders cared where their puppies went. They just want to make money.

::speechless::  I mean - really, how does one respond to that? I know it wasn't intended as an insult... It's just her perception - her reality - based on what she sees in rescue.

Well, I said, you may not believe this, but I know, right now, at this very instant, where EVERY puppy ever born in my house is. Right now. 

She looked shocked. 

And, yes, I charge for my puppies. Does your rescue group charge for the dogs you place?

She squirmed. Yes, she said, there's an adoption fee - but, she hastened to add, we lose money on every dog.

Me too, I said. Calling it an adoption fee is just marketing, I smiled. You sell dogs, I sell dogs. And we're all losing money. I haven't figured out how to make a profit. I've easily got five figures invested, once you factor the health testing on the parents, and on the puppies, and the costs of a few years campaigning before doing a breeding. Forget initial purchase price, food, and regular vet care. I lose a fortune on every litter. But - money changes hands - it's a sale.

I also told her how every good breeder I know is also involved in breed rescue, and that the purpose of rescue is to reunite the dog with its owner, or breeder; and only if neither can take back the dog, is it then made available to a new owner. At first she didn't believe me, so I told her a couple of stories of owners that had become very ill, or a breeder that died, and how we all pulled together to get those dogs back home. 

We did not talk about Piper. It is the nightmare scenario that every breeder has been losing sleep over for more than two months now: a wayward dog picked up by ACO and turned over to breed rescue, and breed rescue refusing to return the dog to the rightful owner, co-owner, and breeder. But the conversation made me think - we need to find ways to educate people in rescue, people like my well-intentioned traveling companion who has a negative view of all breeders.

I told her, nobody hates bad breeders as much as good breeders. NOBODY. Because we understand that JQP paints us all with the same muck-covered brush. It's easier, I told her, to blame breeders and not owners; to lump all breeders into the same barrel of bad apples. But that it's not right, it's not fair. Come to a dog show I told her (giving her the date and location of one next month). Talk to people, ask breeders how they screen their homes and what's in their contracts. Ask them if they've ever had a dog returned. Listen to their stories.

I'm not special. I'm not better. I am lucky to have mentors with decades of experience, and incorporated their values into my own. In my circle of friends, there are more good breeders than bad ones. 

I don't think that's unique to me. I do think we aren't getting the word out. We need to find ways to educate those focused on rescue what the truth is about breeders, and partner with the good ones. 

As we deplaned, she said, well, good luck with your dogs. Thank you, I said. Hope to see you next month. Your breed always has a huge entry, there will be lots of people for you to meet.

Wonder if she'll make the effort. For the sake of the dogs, I sure hope so.
  

Feedback and food for thought

Perusing my morning e-mail I was pleasantly surprised to find one from AKC asking my recommendations for the AKC / Eukanuba National Championship judges for borzoi. As a Breeder of Merit this is a nice thing for AKC to ask.

I didn't give them any names, but did write out two suggestions. Fingers crossed somebody at least reads what I took time to write:

Thank you for asking BOM's for input. I would ask you to do two things:

1 - Select judges with experience with performance events relevant to the breed they are judging. Herding, hunting, coursing, etc.

2 - Scrip the TV announcers with information calling particular attention to Best of Breed winners in the Group ring - since that is all that is on TV for the public to see - that have CHIC numbers, OFA Clearances, are temperament and / or performance titled- and have health tested parents / get. And dogs that are FIT not fat.

In my opinion the AKC/ENC is the public relations event of the year. PLEASE use it for appropriate education of the millions of TV viewers at home.

Thank you in advance for your consideration.

Pix, Picks, and Picking Up

Once again, I have become overrun with puppy laundry and neglected myself.

You'd think I'd have learned my lesson last week when I ran out of clean socks, but... no. I had to have NO clean pants - jeans or sweats - to drive home the point that I really need to do one load of people laundry every couple of days. Thankfully there's a pile of clothes headed to Goodwill; I picked sweats out of that and started the washer.

The puppies are a fat and glorious 10 days old; weight gains range from 126% to 165% over birthweight - I'd say they are thriving! This is however a tough time photographically - no more flash pictures until their eyes are open for a couple of days, so there will probably be fewer pix this coming week.

Skype has enabled co-breeder Sandra to see the scoops a couple of times. We've had fun speculating about colors and admiring their markings. We will be splitting this litter at about 9 weeks of age, and I'm sure she noodles over which puppy to pick first as much as I do.

There are as many ways to choose as there are breeders, and I always find it interesting to compare processes. Some "pick 'em wet" and given how unique each puppy is, in appearance and behavior, at birth I can understand this temptation. There were three in this litter that - let's just say made an impression - when they hit the ground. I will confess to having made mental notes on them.

Some breeders go on color, or markings. No matter what drives that - sentiment, preference, flash, easier to show or keep clean or spot in the field - this is also understandable. And I for one find it easier to tell them apart (not that I keep names straight, oh no).

And then there's sex. Many, many breeders only keep bitches, so only select from the girls in a litter. I suspect this contributes to the noticeable quality difference, overall, that is seen in borzoi, between dogs and bitches. It is widely agreed that there are more good bitches than dogs, and in fact really great males (no matter how "great" is defined) are very hard to find. On the other hand, I know at least a couple of breeders that prefer to keep males...

Some make selections based on which sex they need out of a given breeding, which may change from litter to litter. Others just pick the "best" puppy for their needs regardless of sex or color.

I had a fascinating conversation a couple of years ago with a long-time dog man, an icon with 50 years of hunting and breeding experience in his head. He said, in brief, that he lets whoever wants a puppy, come and pick whatever they want, and he keeps the one or two left at the end. He said that most people go for extremes - most flash of color, most pushy personality, most size or bone or angles, most whatever - and what's left is moderate. And moderate often does best in the long run, holds up to years of field work and is easier to live with. Words to pay attention to.

And sometimes there are a few that are so afraid of making the wrong choice, keep an entire litter or wait until they are adults to start placing them. Sometimes there's a good reason to keep an entire litter, but I would think it's awfully easy to get over-dogged doing that.

No matter how picks are made, it is usually done with a certain dose or two of second guessing and hand wringing. Thankfully I've got several weeks before we get to that point.

Comparing Judging

“A good judge conceives quickly, judges slowly” ~ Unk.

The highlight of the weekend, other than the always enjoyable dinner with close friends, was serendipitous. I went to Colorado for a seminar (more on that later) and stumbled upon a pony inspection. I quickly introduced myself as a former Connemara breeder and asked if I could impose by tagging along. The Inspector graciously allowed me to do so.

From a distance.

On the left you see a cluster of people with clipboards; they are the Inspectors, and have a form for reviewing the physical points of the pony they are examining. They measured his height at the withers with an official measuring stick, and confirmed the measurement. Each Inspector put hands on the pony, feeling the coat and flesh - and the animal's response to being touched by strangers. Note the animal is on a flat halter with a loose lead rope at all times. The Inspectors watched the pony move out at a walk and at a trot, and talked amongst themselves while this was happening. Then, because this is a stallion (the inspection process is more onerous for stallions than for mares), everyone moved to the arena (to the right in the photo) and the stallion was turned loose. This enables not only his free movement to be observed, but also his behavior (and therefore temperament) in a foreign environment.

Throughout, the Inspectors stayed clustered together, heads tilted in, sharing thoughts and comparing opinions. After they were done observing the pony, they discussed the evaluation amongst themselves for several long minutes, wrote up their collective score and report, and then gave the stallion's owner detailed feedback on his pony's strong and weak points.

The Inspection lasted nearly 45 minutes. It was my great privilege to observe the process and this lovely animal.

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Many years ago, in a time zone far far away, I was a consulting rosarian. As an active member of my local rose society, I volunteered at our annual rose show, the primary public education activity of the organization. Being a pathologically competitive person, I avoided entering the rose show as I wanted rose gardening to be my private form of therapy. Sunday morning in my rose gardens - putting on a floppy straw hat, pink flip flops, green cloth gloves, and going on bended knee into dark and pungent soil, pruning shears in hand, to practice integrated pest management - provided the weekly antidote to my high-tech corporate pressure cooker career. Cutting a few blooms to grace my cubicle was a joy.

I had four rose garden areas: along the front of the house; between the fence and the street on the east side; the fragrant cutting garden off the kitchen patio; and climbers behind the pool.

I did not want my roses to become a competitive endeavor; they were sacred.

Of course, it was not to be. In an effort to learn more about roses, and their spectacular blooms in particular (the entire plant is fascinating - did you know roses have prickles, not thorns?), I became a clerk at our annual show.

Clerking is the best job there is at a rose show. You get to spend hours on your feet, keeping your mouth shut, following around a pair or trio of judges, trying to keep up with their discussion and decisions, keeping your mouth shut, marking class winners and placements, flagging down runners to move winners to the head table, keeping your mouth shut, finding the table with the next class your group of judges is to judge even though it's on the other side of the hotel's ballroom and you can't leave your judges' side, deciphering the grunts and gestures common to some judges - and soaking up every morsel of conversation between the judges.

The best rose show judges, and almost all for whom I clerked were great, always took time share knowledge with their clerks. Their kind words made me a better gardener, a better rosarian. Eventually, I was persuaded to enter some of my roses in the local annual shows, where my exhibits occasionally placed.

An exhibit may be picked up (by the display vase) by a Judge, turned this way and that, viewed from above, foliage from below, the scent sampled - never touched, but as thorough an exam as the other senses can achieve. Disagreements between judges over scores and placements were always civilized, with comparisons between cultivars prompting persuasive arguments of one exhibit over another based on the scale of points:

OFFICIAL A.R.S. SCALE OF POINTS:

• FORM 25 points
• COLOR 20 points
• SUBSTANCE 15 points
• STEM AND FOLIAGE 20 points
• SIZE 10 points
• BALANCE AND PROPORTION 10 points

Needless to say, winning a class at a rose show is a tremendous honor. I was lucky enough to do so only once, at a huge District (regional) show. The trophy is to this day proudly displayed in my family room.

This is Love Potion, taken from my mauve cutting garden off the kitchen patio. It is staggeringly fragrant and just looking at the picture fills my head with its scent.

As each class is judged, the winner is taken to a head table. After every exhibit in each class has been judged, all the Judges gather (up to 10 judges) to select Queen (first), King (second), and the Court (remaining placements). Then the judges - ALL the judges - select the overall winners. Sometimes the decision is instant, sometimes discussion ensues, but it is always unanimous.

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Let us compare these two processes - evaluation by committee and discussion without overt time constraints - to the process of judging at a dog show:

A new breed judge is expected to judge a minimum of 20 dogs an hour, and experienced judges at least 25 dogs an hour (see Rules Ch. 7, Section 12).

Pp 10 - 11, Rules, Policies and Guidelines for Conformation Dog Show Judges

It is no small wonder to me that the quality of stallions is so very high, that the winning roses are of overwhelming magnificence: the collective wisdom and experience of many people have gone into making the selections.

It comes as no surprise that dog show judges so frequently get it wrong - each works alone and has scant time. The miracle is they ever get it right!

Perhaps, if we want to find the best dogs, we need a better process - lest we judge in haste and repent in leisure.

Black holes

Going to Nationals was a great experience, but I was "off the radar" in more ways than one.

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.

Hide and Seek

I have a client that is looking for a puppy, their elderly dog having recently passed away. They are willing to pay good money to an ethical breeder for the "right" puppy, and I applaud their approach: health testing, temperament testing, contract.

But of course when asking the local dog community for referrals (I'm not an expert in their breed of choice) I got one person who insists a shelter dog or rescue is the only way to go. Many people responded with references to local breeders (in the time-zone and adjacent states being our definition of local around here), all of which I passed along. But the "only good dog is a rescue dog" mentality irritates me.

Found a great line today:

The majority of purebreds are produced by family pets and commercial breeders, their puppies as far removed from the show ring as a second-hand pickup from the Formula One track.

It's from this article, and while I don't agree with the author's position on cropping and docking, much of it is sensible.

Coming to a Screen Near You

If you get BBCA, watch this week: Pedigreed Dogs Exposed.

If you don't, try the link in this blog post and see if you can watch on-line.

Either way, breed clubs and breeders need to be prepared for the US reaction.

Never Say Never

Somewhere, there's a patch of hell that has frozen over. I know this because today, despite all previous pronouncements to the contrary, I set it foot in the Conformation ring and the Obedience ring on the same day. Have to say, I never thought that would happen.

Now, we pause so that those that know me well can pick themselves up off the floor after fainting; please enjoy the music.

Dum, deedle dum, tra la la. (Thanks for listening.)

When I happen to be at a dog show, which is usually because I have a dog entered in Rally, I do try to watch the breed ring. I used to watch the Border collies in particular, but the specimines one finds in the show ring nauseate me so I no longer do. I know too much, have seen too many bench champions fail a basic herding instinct test, have seen too many brilliant herding dogs get passed over in the show ring, to have any use whatsoever for the opinion of any conformation judge of this breed. Correction - they are now separate breeds: working border collies and barbie collies. There are always exceptions so spare me the story of the one you've seen. Barbie collies are easy to identify: heavy bone, insane amounts of coat, typically low drive (easier to live with than a real, working border collie), too stupid to know which end of a sheep to stalk (also easier to live with than a real, working border collie), and a sea of monotonous irish marked, black and white. No thanks.

Lately I make a point to watch sighthound judging, and borzoi in particular, as most sighthound breeds are not yet fully split into bench and working types. This is a highly probable outcome, and has long since happened in many other breeds.

Take a look at any of the following: Golden Retriever, Labrador Retriever, Cocker Spaniel or Irish Setter - you get the idea, the list is endless - there are "field" lines and "show" lines. Pick any small terrier breed; JRT's are now called Parsons in the show ring, in less than a decade there is a complete split. I refer you again to working border collies, ruined in merely three generations; herding ability is genetically complex. Greyhounds are almost there, Whippets are inches away.

When I'm watching sighthound judging I look to see if the judge knows what he or she is doing. Do they go for profuse coat? TRAD movement? (TRAD is "tremendous reach and drive" - very flashy, totally inefficient, and absolutely incorrect for sighthounds.) Move dogs with obviously bad temperaments to the end of the line? Since I know most of the local dogs, I compare what the judge selects against my personal observations of each dog's coursing ability. Does the judge carefully examine the topline for flexibility? Or do they go for handlers? Have a color bias? Prefer size over soundness or physical condition?

Standing ringside for hound group judging, I joined in a conversation with two strangers, one of whom turned out to be a sighthound person and a conformation judge. We were discussing the difference between a great dog and a great show dog - and all agreed they are two different things, rarely seen in a single individual. He commented that what he hates most is those interviews of the Best In Show judge on TV, when the judge says "He just asked for the win!" What would be much better, we all agreed, would be to say something like: "This dog is an excellent example of its breed, has a correct temperament, all it's teeth, is not overweight, is well muscled, moves soundly, appears to be in glorious health." Can you just imagine what John Q Public would learn about dogs if that were repeated after every televised dog show? Even better, can you imagine how show dogs would improve if every breeder / owner / handler were working toward those goals?

But I digress. (Thank you for not fainting from shock a second time in a single post.)

So today I was standing ringside, rooting for my friends and watching the judge - who, predictably, did not put up what I consider to be the best coursing hound. No surprise there. However, one friend wound up with two dogs in best of breed judging, and I was drafted to assist. Luckily I was dressed properly (yes, the handler's attire matters, more proof it isn't about the dogs nearly as much as they pretend it is), borrowed some bait, and ventured into the ring. I managed not to fall down or step on the hound or mess up anyone next to me in line, so I will declare the experience a rousing success.

I was properly dressed because I was entered in Obedience - Novice A, to be exact - the last class of the day, in a ring at the far end of the trial site. Good news: late in day, fewer distractions, small class, etc. Bad news: outdoor show, hot sunshine, sighthound, 5 of the 7 exercises are off leash.

I am thrilled to report that my dog, a borzoi, did NOT leave the ring chasing anything, and did NOT mark the ring (pee) although a bitch had done so not 15 minutes before we walked in. As hoped, I learned the specific things I need to work on (uncued, auto-sits when heeling; single verbal cue for recall; more duration for off-leash heeling). And as icing on the cake, my big bozo was the only Novice dog (A or B) that passed both the long Sit and the long Down.

Don't get me wrong, we did not qualify, but I was thrilled none the less: we had accomplished MORE than I had expected. In short, another rousing success in a foreign ring.

As we were leaving the ring, the judge indicated to me that she'd like a word. Not one to argue with the judge, I scooted my hound into the shade and gave her my rapt attention. The judge - no doubt with the best intentions - then berated me for not taking things seriously, my dog obviously didn't respect me, and if I ever expected to accomplish anything with him (yes, that's a quote) I needed to be better prepared. Borzoi, she explained, are a noble breed, she likes to see them do well, I should appreciate what they are capable of. I tried to smile politely and said that it was MY first time in an actual Obedience ring and the day's exercise was for me to see what *I* need to work on, I thought the dog was fine. I meant no disrespect by being casual, I'd been doing Rally for several years and was feeling my way through the differences. The judge said, ah yes Rally, well yes, this is quite different. At that moment, someone told the judge to look at the catalogue (which contains the dog's registered name and titles), as there was nothing that particular dog couldn't do. (Can I just say, I LOVE my 4-H kids' parents!!) I thanked the judge, beamed a smile at the 4-H mom, found my dog's cookies, and headed back back to our set-up area.

Along the way I was waylaid by another exhibitor, who, after asking if she could tell me something, proceeded to loudly and repeatedly admonish me for the collar I had on my dog in the ring. (A perfectly legal collar, by the way, that I had pre-cleared with the judge.) Really? You're getting after me me for my choice of collar?

Now I ask you: what if today had been my first EVER time at a dog trial? Novice A is for rookies, it's the class for rank beginners. How many people can take a dressing-down from a judge, in front of the ring crew and spectators, not qualify, and ever want to come back for more? How many people can be loudly, and unfairly, publicly criticized for the collar their dog is wearing, and ever want to come back for more? My guess is: very few.

What's wrong with dog shows isn't the grooming that would make a prom-queen cry or the spectators or the weather or the entry fees or the roach-coach food vendors or the clothes or the frequently pretentious atmosphere to the entire circus. It's not the absurd glossy magazines filled with carefully edited pictures or the staggering costs of campaigning a special. It isn't even that the dogs winning couldn't run a mile if their lives depended on it, much less do it over and over. No, what's wrong with dog shows is the politics and the people (yes, I know those always come as a package), the lack of encouragement or support or compliments for those just trying something new. What's wrong is all the bullshit and one-up-manship and nastiness.

Sure, we should try to do a creditable job and train our dogs and be prepared. And at the top levels of any game, a certain amount of competitive edge is inevitable. But at some silly little local show, is it too much to ask that we remain civil toward one another? Nice? Polite? Take a moment and offer the rookie a pat on the back instead of harsh remarks?

Here's hoping for a thaw.

Truth

Here's a great article, I hope the link remains available indefinitely.

Road Trip preparations

Long road trip? No problem!!

A while ago I waxed-on about the joys of BOT on my iPod... a recent discovery of old radio shows ensures I'll have fun-filled road trips the next two weekends. The Shadow, War of the Worlds, Dr. Who, Dracula, Huck Finn, Abbott & Costello... and a grab-bag of one-time programs - should be fun!

Last weekend I listened to a Bob Hope broadcast on Lux Radio Theater... I'm sorry to say Bob never appealed to me, just not my generation of humor I suppose. But after spending an hour with his 1945 "I Never Left Home" show it's possible I'm a convert. The straight-men get most of the laughs, and usually at Bob's expense. No profanity, mostly politically correct (given the times, sexism and racism wouldn't have been a surprise), and sometimes truly clever. Parts of it are downright moving - unapologetic observations of hospital wards in WWII - without sentimentality. Must find more like this and keep revising my opinions.

The van has had a tune up and freshly rotated tires, the coursing box and first aid kit are loaded, I need a sleeping bag for me and food for the dogs, then we'll hit the road first thing in the morning.

Stay tuned for results!

Define "safe"

What exactly, is "safe" enough? Is it even possible?

Following a recent local agility trial, the usual complaints started to surface. The surface was either too hard, too soft, too deep, too slick or too something for many handlers. The groomed dirt arena was blamed for dogs knocking bars, missing contacts, running wide, and for handlers slipping or falling. To hear the list of ills, you'd think every run would have been a blue ribbon if not for the surface. Allusions to the risk of injury were made. To hear the list of complaints, you'd think every agility surface should be a perfectly level, perfectly traction-ed, and perfectly safe. As if there were such a thing!

I've seen agility courses set up and run - successfully - on rolling terrain. On soccer fields. In rodeo and dressage arenas. On hardpan and on sand. On school playgrounds and public parks and dirt lots and desert meadows. In the rain, in morning dew, in a dusting of snow. In blasting winds and glaring sun. After dark with street lighting. And inside on artificial turf, carpet, and rubber mats. With no air, or swamp coolers, or refrigerated air (that's air conditioning to those that don't live in the desert). There are lots of other settings I haven't seen yet. Most are safe, most of the time. But injuries can and do happen anywhere.

I think that the truth is that if you TRAIN on a variety of surfaces, you and your dog are physically and mentally prepared to run - successfully - on anything that comes up. So if you aren't successful on a particular type of surface, you have two choices. Either TRAIN like you want to compete, or SHUT UP. Complaining will not solve your problem, so either get to work or... stay home.

I didn't always feel this way, no siree. The last three years of coursing have really opened my mind to the idea of what a good performance dog can handle. Dogs that weigh over 80# going roughly 30 MPH in all kinds of weather on all types of surfaces - grass, pouring rain, wide open desert, rolling meadow, snow, wind, beating sun - day after day, for long minutes that no agility run could ever compare to for speed, distance, difficulty or duration. Cacti, cockleburs, goat heads, devils claw, arroyos, barbed wire fences, unmarked roads, cattle, rattlesnakes, pronghorn, coyotes... and yet people want to whine about a soft spot in the dirt? If you and your dog can't handle a groomed surface... well I got nuthin' to say, that leaves me speechless.

Sure, hazards are real and some are best avoided. At least, minimized wherever possible. Certainly, preparation, training, and luck are huge factors. But staying home is no guarantee of safety: I know at least a dozen people that have had dogs killed or severly injured in freak accidents in their own yards. Just yesterday my neighbor had a perfectly healthy 7 year old dog drop dead in front of her eyes for no reason whatsoever, inside her house. (Necropsy results pending, we suspect anyurism.)

In the end, there's no such thing as "safe", there's just LIFE. I, for one, will be out there living it with my dogs.

Choices have Consequences

My kids hear that expression about once a day... and it's always true.

Whether by act, hesitation, denial, or conscious choice, everything we do - and don't do - has at least once result. Even if we don't know about it. Accelerating through a yellow light may mean we're in an accident (or not) a couple of blocks later. Or a lie of omission that comes back to haunt us at the most inopportune moment.

Perhaps worst of all, is making a decision based on the best current information and later learning it was the wrong choice. Particularly when we're making decisions for others, and those consequences have life and death implications.

Years ago I had my border collie bitch, Dot, spayed at about five months of age. That was conventional wisdom and the standard veterinary advice. I now believe that we daily live with the results of that choice, and it was the wrong one to have made. Dot suffered a career-ending knee injury before she her second birthday, a fairly common injury in performance dogs altered before their growth plates are closed. Thanks to the work of Chris Zink DVM I won't make this mistake again; Dot's forced retirement is a constant reminder of that regrettable choice.

The last few weeks I've been planning the castration of one of my males, Ren. A hard-keeper at the best of times, Ren is impossible to feed for a couple of weeks every time a bitch is in season. Many knowledgeable people have reported increasing prostate problems in intact males as they age around intact bitches; Ren's got enough problems with out that! And, my son Anthony will be doing an internship at our veterinarian's practice for a month, and I thought that it might be good timing to have Ren castrated while Anthony is working there. Ren would have somebody he loves and trusts with him the entire time, it would be scheduled after our spring trial season is complete, and Anthony would be able to observe the surgery with full owner consent.

However, comma...

Today I came across a new and recent article on the long-term effects of altering, and it made for some disturbing reading. While castration decreases the incidence of benign prostatic hypertrophy, it also increases the probability of osteosarcoma. One is easy to cure, one is impossible.

What to do? I haven't a clue. My youngest bitch is in heat right now, and we seem to be getting along a bit better this time. The intact males are banished to the barn, pasture, kennel, and puppy paddock for three weeks; Gin is restricted to the house and house paddock for three weeks. Double-fencing and hyper-vigilant supervision, and routine crating in separate buildings, will prevent an accidental breeding - but the thought of going through this four (or more) times per year is a consideration. This time Gin is on chlorophyll; she gets 1 Tbls on each meal. Her poop is bright green, but she seems to smell a lot less interesting. (Thanks to this site for useful info - 1 tsp. per 30 lbs. of body weight, twice a day.) Increasing Ren's quality of life now vs. increasing the risk of a painful and fatal disease... I am paralyzed by indecision.

Another favorite of mine is the law of unintended consequences. The BBC broadcast last year ultimately prevented Crufts from being on TV. (It's being webcast this week - how cool!) The consequences of the backlash have been two-fold: one, by purebred dog fanciers against the BBC (I expect the same against ABC in light of an upcoming Nightline episode); and two, by the public against breeders for producing "freaks". Several KC breeds have had to change their standards. Sweden has already followed suit, many people anticipate the AKC will force American parent breed clubs to do so as well.

Is this good or bad? It depends. I think that breeds - not individuals, entire BREEDS - that can't copulate ("live cover") or free whelp (routine cesarean is mandatory) have fundamental problems. Fanciers that accept a life expectancy of 6 years or insist that ear cropping and tail docking are functional... are asking to be a target. Aesthetics are all well and good, but when the unnatural is promoted as normal... "Freaks" seems an apt word to some.

But the old expression about lies, damn lies, and statistics bears review: just becuase there are detailed data about breed-specific health issues doesn't mean the purebred dogs have more problems. The absense of data on mixed-breeds and random-bred dogs does not prove they are healthier. In fact, Jerold Bell DVM said at a seminar I attended less than two years ago that x-poo breeds have MORE thyroid problems than any purebred breed, primarily because the "hybrid vigor" myth deludes a lot of people and most mixed-breeders don't do any health testing. Yikes.

My mother used to say: indecision is still a decision. Mama's always right, again.

Pronoun Revelations

In case you're unsure, this is more Strunk & White than another good book.

I've had this thought for quite a while, and several weeks ago during a desert-walk conversation with a delightful young gentleman this topic came up again. So here goes: my thoughts on what the use of pronouns reveals about the speaker.

"I've bred five Champions."

"I got six MACH's on two dogs."

"I have put twelve different titles on Rover in three sports."

Compare that to this:

"He finished his Championship this weekend!"

"She picked up her second ADCH in Phoenix."

"He's a three-way performance champion, with points toward five more."*

What do these sentences reveal about the speakers? Well, from my perspective, a couple of things. One, all are proud of the accomplishments discussed. Two, some people think they earned the titles, while others think the dog did something wonderful.

A human taking credit for a dog's accomplishments is petty, and very little makes a person look smaller to me than this use of language. That's like taking credit for a sixth-grader's spelling test result because you helped the kid study. Now, if one is a professional handler and is describing one's qualifications to a prospective client, that's different. But for people that own, train, and handle their own dogs, well... And I'll grant you, I am completely aware that some things are team sports (e.g., agility, obedience, rally) but get real, people... taking credit for a dog's accomplishments is absurd.

And regardless of team sport or not, the judges are judging the dog's performance, so I stand by this: the credit goes to the dog. Last time I checked, only a couple of venues award titles to handlers (CPE and USDAA), and to JUNIOR handlers only.

The proof is in the pronoun; perhaps grown up's should consider how revealing the use of I vs. s/he is.

*the dog is mine, but the titles are his ;-)

A Tale of Two Rings

Looking for a little drama? The stage awaits at your local dogshow.

The setting: an indoor multi-purpose sports facility with excessive overhead fluorescent lighting, six rings, nearly 900 dogs, a few hundred people, foolish expectations, and oversized egos.

Act I

The curtain rises on the Alphabet ring, judging already in progress. Outside the ring are many well dressed handlers, each holding the lead of multiple hounds. Above the din the voice of the steward can be heard, calling for a handler and hound for the winners bitch class. Inside the ring, the judge waits with a lone handler. That handler is calling for a friend and her bitch, by name, to hurry into the ring - there are points at stake! and she wants her friend's bitch to have a fair shot at them. After a long pause, the judge shrugs and hands the WB ribbon to the lone handler, who smiles apologetically, kisses her bitch, and leaves the ring. Everyone lingers for BOB judging, cheering sincerely as the judge points and handlers smile while shaking hands.

Act II

We are now across the hall in the Numbers ring, just before judging is to begin. Each hound awaits its turn; on the end of each leash is a Professional Handler. Some ignore their charges, some are in idle conversation, and some interact with their hounds in preparation for the competition. As one last handler arrives in time takes his hound's lead, another turns to him and makes threatening remarks just before entering the ring. As the minutes pass, dog and bitches enter and leave the ring in turn, the judge pointing her preferences succinctly. As they leave the ring for the last time, one handler is heard making offensive remarks to another. Moments later, a third handler rips the armband off her sleeve and hurls it into the trash.

Act III

Members of the public get up and leave their seats in bewilderment, wondering what all the animosity is about. The curtain comes down on this scene as the lights fade to black...

Perhaps drama, or even melodrama, doesn't really cover it. More like histrionics.