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Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"

Saturday, December 03, 2005

JUDGEMENT DAY 

Stuck in with the worst cold in the world, and feeling very sorry for myself, I`ve been thinking back over the year`s shows and judges.

Judges come in all kinds. and we`ve had most of them. There are:

The honest judge (three cheers!)
The honest and knowledgable judge (hen`s teeth)
The judge who owes a lot of favours (look, there`s Senga who put my dog up last time..)
The judge who remembers her friends
The judge who remembers her enemies (much more entertaining!)
The judge with many influential friends and no experience in dogs
The judge who only likes reds
The judge who only likes small ones
The head judge (all that matters is the pretty head -never mind that the dog has only 3 legs..)
The face judge (only looks at the top end of the lead)
The judge from another breed (omigod! - none of these looks a bit like a Peke...)
The Big All-Rounder (gosh, this breed is so boring...when do I get lunch?)
The judge with no idea at all.

....and still to come for us next year...

the judge who once did the wife of an important member of the Kennel Club a Really Big Favour.

Wonder why we bother?

Our last open show had a very honest judge, but one who was feeling her way in the breed(not her own), which made for a very slow event in a little hall whose quaint antique heating system was not at all equal to the day. We all politely froze, and I ran about with a camera and tried to show at the same time and generally made a nuisance of myself. (Not half as much a nuisance as Allegra who was on top hyper form.)

I got Florian back. He had spent some time in what my friend who took him in referred to as "boot camp", a visit due to his sudden notion that when you walk a triangle, as you have to, Bad Things will jump out at you. It seems to have worked. His pavor triangularis was overcome by the realisation that the world is a big place, and parts of it don`t have your mum in them. He has been making sure I am still there ever since, and that keeps him too busy for silly imaginings. And I missed him too.

Mr Lentil behaved superbly, although whenever separated from Allegra he cried dismally - he is quite devoted.

And Allegra, almost under control some of the time, went Best Puppy.
Comments:
Hope you feel better soon!

And why DO we bother? For me, it's an addiction. Like gambling... one or two big wins will carry me through several months of desolation.
 
Aint it the truth! One win and you `re on top of the world.
 
I think the exhibitors are also just as interesting. How many times have we seen someone who has a dog that vaguely resembles a Papillon (providing you close one eye and squint with the other), will not stand upright or still on the table, spends most of its time on its hind legs around the ring and when the judge places them out of the running they carp about how stupid and bias the judge is...I get most of my laughs in life while at a dog show and that keeps me going...well of course along with the occasional win here and there.
 
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