In the sport of purebred dogs these same principles apply. In our breed there is a line of dogs that have become very popular. Only a few years ago there would have been no market, and no desire, for dogs of this quality. Straight fronts, bicycling rears, exaggerated type and movement combine to produce caricatures of a breed defined by its moderation. What makes this type of dog become the embodiment of the standard in some breeder’s eyes? The answer is found in the perspective of the people who own dogs from this line and their reasons for being involved in showing dogs. It is ridiculous to pretend that no matter how well a dog may fit its standard, if it only wins occasionally, or seldom gets the “right” kinds of wins, showing that dog is satisfying. To many newer breeder/exhibitors, the view from the BOB place marker is the greatest determiner of breed type. This is the perspective automatically produced by winning. But what caused the win? Was the winner deserving because it fit the standard better than the competition, or because it was the best of what was before the judge that day.

From the judge’s perspective, the dogs are supposed to be judged against the standard. More often, the relationship of the judge’s eye to the dogs in his ring creates its own perspective. If the entry is a litany of mediocrity, while fitting the standard, the dog with that something extra: ring presence, incorrect, but flashy movement and a good grooming job will stand out. The principles of perspective, skillfully applied, influence the judge’s view and make a picture suggestive of more quality in the dog than its structure provides. The ability to change the judge’s perspective is critical for a faulty dog to win consistently enough to be noticed. Such a dog emerged in our breed a few years ago. Shown at first in a part of the country where there are sufficient numbers for majors and a Best of Breed win captures many points, this dog soared to the top of the stats. Some splashy, well placed ads followed. The illusion was complete. From a ringside perspective, this dog gave the impression of what the standard calls for. While not a good example of what the breed was developed to be, his record could not be disputed. Since this dog has not been used at stud often, he has had little effect on the breed in general. What paved the way for this dog’s success and ultimately the success of his line in this country?

Breeding dogs is not easy and each standard allows for personal interpretation by skilled breeders. Maintaining perspective about one’s line is difficult and today’s breeders don’t keep more than a few breedable animals in their homes at any given time. If the animals bred have faults difficult to overcome through limited breeding, they are perpetuated. As dogs in one line show the same faults across generations, their breeders’ perspective is changed to view these deviations from the standard as acceptable and in fact correct. Additionally, breeders may over-emphasis one trait, usually one easy to change, like temperament, or head length. This approach produces dogs with critical faults in their basic structure but exhibiting some exaggerated traits now deemed virtues. Since most people choose stud dogs in their area, or those belonging to like-minded friends, faults spread from line to line within regions. These regions become like islands, limiting the development of a breed further. As these dogs make their way to the ring, judges see the same faults in most of the exhibits in front of them. Within a few show seasons, this manipulation of breed type successfully changes the perspective of breeders, handlers and judges. If a dog emerges, with the same faults but exhibiting more showmanship or ring-presence he is perceived as more correct and worthy of winning. If his handler is smart, the dog will be campaigned consistently in the area where he has fewer dogs of real quality to overcome. This was the evolution of our breed’s latest imported phenom.

In today’s dog show culture, game changing dogs are seldom brought to the ring by veteran breeders. Instead, they come from exhibitors with the money to buy the dog, but not the knowledge to properly apply the standard to it. These people look outside the country for a dog that will make them sure winners among their peers. There seems to be a prevailing attitude in our breed that dogs coming from outside the country are somehow more authentic. Exaggerated, foreign bred dogs appeal to the American lust for more is better. People looking for the exotic gravitate to European breeders whose splashy websites tout their show ring successes. Sometimes these dogs are of sufficient quality to do some winning. If they do a lot of winning, as a few have, naive exhibitors perceive all dogs from those lines as being superior. And since winning creates its own perspective many never question whether their view is accurate or just immediate. Twenty years ago, the lack of diversity within European bred Kerries produced dogs with faults American breeders had overcome. With a more diverse gene pool and more opportunity to breed across lines, American dogs came closer to the standard, than their European counterparts. During those years, a few truly outstanding dogs made their way to the US and were successfully incorporated into American lines, strengthening them. Importation was judicious and done by master breeders with close ties to a few lines in Europe.

As the quality of American Kerries has degraded, their conformation more closely approaches that of dogs produced by European breeders today. The internet has made the world of dogs smaller and the door has opened for more imported dogs to find success in AKC shows. The demand for puppies from foreign lines is high. At this year’s Montgomery weekend, the presence of the imported dogs was felt. Some of the winners came from established European lines, but more were American. Imported dogs won their share, but did not dominate in all classes. Movement and type were virtually indistinguishable. Less than skillful breeders, on both sides of the Atlantic, who produce dogs that win regardless of their quality have no incentive to change direction. As a result we are left struggling with mediocrity and dangerously close to losing correct breed type. Our dogs appear more flashy, but hardly more sound. This forces an unintended change in perspective affecting us all.

Sometimes people ask long-time exhibitors and breeders, “which dog was your favorite?” There is no one answer. The ones whose essence linger in the heart are not necessarily the biggest winners nor the most good-natured, but because they evoke an emotional response reminding us of milestones in our lives as dog people. We loved our Casey the best because he was an honest dog and our first show dog. His son and daughter because they were our first Best in Show winners, our Merry Kerry, a Corky daughter, with her beautiful head. Sunshine could be our favorite, our National winner and consummate show dog and her littermate brother, Desmond, father of Eva, whose head was full of quarrels but grieved himself to death when his Terra died. Mr. Leonard with his goodness haunts us over a year after his death. And then there is Honour.

Honour was our first dog to qualify for the Eukanuba . Barely out of the top ten, breed and all-breed, there was no question she would go. I went along to see the event. There were three shows hosted by local kennel clubs preceding the big event, beginning on Wednesday. Most of the Eukanuba qualifiers enter these and use them as a chance to warm up and vie for the last few points available for the calendar year. In what turned out to be a tremendous advantage, Honour was only entered on the last day of the weekend. Odebt, Bill and I spent the time seeing the shows and scouting the competition. They met all the resident Kerry Blue people who were cordial to us. Sitting ringside once during the weekend, Odebt watched the entry made up of the biggest winners in our breed that year and whispered, “I think we can get something here.” Poor delusional thing!

My self-appointed job on this weekend was to save Odebt the trouble of walking and eventually bathing Honour. When it was time to take her outside to potty I would leash her up and walk her out the back door to the little grassy areas. That was the theory. I knew I was in trouble when Honour would barely leave the set-up with me. I had to force her out the door. Once outside, she would run to the first dirt patch she saw, relieve herself and pull like the lead dog at the Iditarod to get back to Odebt. About two days into the weekend the security officer on the door was laughing at us every time we went out. On the third day two helpful agility competitors suggested I let the owner take the little dog outside for her walks. I informed them I was the owner and they just gaped at me. Walking to and from the venue through the building with Honour was another adventure. Honour insisted on walking on Odebt’s left side as far from me as possible. It didn’t matter I was holding the lead. One night as we left the building, we walked by the booth of the artist sculpting the dog pieces for the Eukanuba trophy. A life-sized German Shepherd Dog stood guard in all his bronze glory. Honour sniffed him and became terribly insulted when the dog wouldn’t respond to her. She barked and bit at the statue until we thought we’d die laughing. Honour never forgets a slight. The next day she saw a German Shepherd walking through the agility area with his owner. Honour launched into a rage at the hapless dog. Taking out all her fury for the previous night’s insults on him.

I have to admit I held no hope of Honour winning anything. With a fresh bath and more coat than I had seen on her in a long time, Odebt set to work trimming the little dog. Odebt had not touched her in all the time we’d been at the show. Honour was crazy for the attention and needed the comfort of the show day routine. Due to our place in the agility room we had gone unnoticed. She was the only dog nobody had seen. Nobody likes to see one dog entered to one judge only. It becomes a head game with the exhibitors. It becomes a distraction when focus is needed the most. On this last day we were found by a little spidery woman who came and pretended to be talking to Odebt about shampoo. She scuttled away when she saw me, spreading the news about our dog. Honour stood motionless on the table, tail up, moaning softly as Odebt revived her beauty. Nearing ring-time Bill and I walked over and fought for a place around it’s perimeter. We ended up about three rows back but with a little elbowing we got a good enough spot. There were thirteen dogs entered that year. Everyone ranked in the top 25 of the breed. In those days you qualified by being in the top 25 in breed points or winning an all breed Best in Show. Entered that year were the great Aran Ferbane and the lovely, Rollick’s Riverdance, the bitch we had shown against in Louisville that March. I had been on the end of the lead that time. Odebt and Honour entered the ring and immediately I saw our unfortunate position. We stood directly behind our breed’s number one, Rollick’s Riverdance. River’s coat was beautiful and her easy-going movement made her hard to beat. She had won Montgomery that year and we knew she would win this day, too. Oh, well, maybe an Award of Excellence, maybe. Mrs. Elaine Young was our judge and we had not shown Honour to her. I distracted myself taking pictures ringside, but stopped to watch the judging. Mrs. Young kept all the dogs in the ring but judged the bitches first. Honour’s eyes never left Odebt’s face. After days of waiting, something Honour is not happy to do, she was excited to be in the ring. It was a dance they had done many times. The melding of their spirits evident in their fluid motion and unspoken communication. The bitch in line behind Honour kept edging up, and challenging her slightly. Odebt let it go on a few times until finally she allowed Honour to turn and warn the other bitch off. This set the other bitches off, too. The instigator’s handler seemed miffed, but I had seen Mrs. Young smile slightly.

When you’re in the ring with a dog you often get a sense of your chances by subtle things the judge does. Throughout the bitch judging I had no idea if we were being considered. Mrs. Young finished judging the seven bitches and took one last look. She sent each one around. River moved like a dream, but as Odebt moved Honour she seemed to reach out just a little farther. Mrs. Young only made one gesture to one bitch to come forward and stand apart from the others: it was Honour. She moved the other bitches back. Odebt and Honour stepped into a pool of light, coming from somewhere above the blue carpeted floor. Mrs. Young proceeded to judge the six dogs entered. Honour kept working for Odebt the entire time. The light seemed to move with them. A well known handler with Aran Ferbane, a favorite in the judging, was sent around the ring. This man is known for his over the top handling. He barreled through one corner and ran directly toward our little bitch. It was clear he knew more than we did about the eventuality of the outcome, and it was equally clear he meant to intimidate. He veered slightly, avoiding impact, but the sleeve of his jacket brushed Odebt’s jacket and the dog’s leg touched Honour. Ringside gasped, but dog and handler stood their ground. I remember Honour adjusting her feet slightly.

In the end, Mrs. Young picked a dog special, Tontine’s Everyday Hero, as her Best of Breed, but Honour was Best of Opposite Sex. The light still shone on her until she moved to the place markers to get her award. I glanced up to see where the light had come from and saw nothing. Maybe I missed it through some tears. Somebody later told me there were no lights, but I know what I saw. If every dog has her day, this Sunday was Honour’s. She showed for the pure joy of it, for the person she loves most in the world. It was probably the first time I realized that a dog could really love the ring.

We returned home and I was amused to see the relief on Honour’s face when I told her she had to stay with Odebt. She had hidden from me as much as possible on the trip. Honour showed a few more times the next year, but we realized her time was over, she would have shown on, but we wanted her to go out a winner. In the spring of 2007, Harmony’s Pursuing History came back to us. I won’t say she came home. She never regarded our home as hers once she had been on the road. I put an RN title on her and we did our best to make her happy. But, it became apparent that her home was a hundred miles south and east of us. When we dropped her off in Yoder she never looked back. She was home.

Please visit: http://pawsativelyhandling.com  for more about Honour and a more pawsative outlook on dog showing.   

In 2009, we travelled to Roswell, New Mexico, with our very young champion, Danny, looking for an outdoor show for practice before our annual trek to Montgomery County. There was a young woman there with two German Pinschers. They were not what I’d hoped them to be. Nothing seemed to have improved over what I’d seen years before. The breed has tremendous potential. They should be a sound, sturdy breed. Possessing proud bearing and a vigilant expression. It seems like an easy breed to “get it right”. Not like a Bassett Hound with it’s wrap-around front and dwarf proportions, or some of the giant breeds where joint disorders often prove to be their undoing. The German Pinscher is medium-sized and moderate in every way. A square breed, elegant and upstanding. Yet the breed continues to struggle with the basics of dog breeding. Handicapped by a limited gene pool, conscientious breeders had little choice but to import their foundation dogs from Europe, primarily Scandinavia, where presumably the breed was stronger.

Locating a German Pinscher breeder was easy via the Internet and the German Pinscher Club of America’s Website. Breeders are listed along with their websites. We looked for a breeder whose philosophy best matched ours. We found her. Lyn Stuby, Nevar German Pinschers, in Indiana. A no-nonsense woman who has done plenty of winning but seemed more concerned with health and conformation. She was having a litter in a month and she would keep us in mind for a show prospect. We had no idea.

August 17 was the day our puppy arrived. We had seen pictures of the puppies weekly and narrowed our choices to about three of the boys. The breeder picked the green puppy for us and it was just the one that had caught our eye. Funny how puppies are made. Innocent and beguiling, they give no clue about the evil that lurks inside. We picked him up in his puppy crate at the air cargo building. He had flown in the heat of the summer all that way. We cautiously opened the crate and pulled him out. Peyton donated his puppy lead, a thin leather line, for the cause and we had a new Bronco collar for the baby. He came out and was instantly our darling. Incredibly huge feet and big floppy ears made him irresistible. He was smooth and sleek and had a little belly and sweet, puppy breath. His crate was dry and he peed in the weeds outside the building on his leash like a pro. He was a dream.

Right away it started. “What a cute Doberman puppy, ” the little girl chirped when the puppy wandered over to greet her new Golden Retriever baby. We didn’t bother to correct her, after all she was just a child. Our puppy was called Polaris by his breeder so we went with that. A star name for the star we hoped he’d become. On the way home we stopped by the bulk mail center to show Polaris off to our friend who works there. The puppy was an immediate hit. Even a UPS driver held him and was fascinated by the little Doberman. We corrected him and passed on some breed information. We knew it would go over his head, but damn it, this puppy is not a Doberman.

Inevitably, like having a root canal, we took our puppy to conformation class. Several other would be handlers were standing in one corner by the benches with their new puppies. Used to seeing us with terriers they were curious. The AKC has made life miserable for people who pride themselves on knowing every recognized breed. More and more breeds are admitted every year. Many look so similar who can tell if that large white dog is a Cane Corso or the Dogo Argentino. Our conformation classmates stared at our serious puppy and kept glancing at our faces, and then each other, as if something was wrong. They asked his age a couple of times. Finally, it dawned on me. They wondered if we knew our Doberman puppy was hopelessly small for the breed. I tried to sound patient as I informed them he was a German Pinscher. Nobody knew what that was, but they seemed relieved we didn’t think he was a Doberman.

Since that day in August we have taken our puppy, now called Axel, to the German Pinscher National in St. Louis, a UKC show and of course the Kerry Blue National at Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. We could not have been more relieved when nobody at Montgomery called Axel a Doberman. However, more than one person asked me where the Standard Manchester ring was. I guess they didn’t notice our puppy didn’t have a tail.

Seeking refuge in the breed standards of the Doberman and the German Pinscher, there is little to help us out. The descriptions of both breeds are more than just similar. The same words are used in both standards. Amazingly, both breeds are even described as medium-sized. The real difference between the two breeds lies in the temperament. The German Pinscher standard calls for a dog that: has highly developed senses, intelligence, aptitude for training, fearlessness, and endurance. He is alert, vigilant, deliberate and watchful of strangers. He has fearless courage and tenacity if threatened. A very vivacious dog…. The Doberman standard calls for a dog that is: Energetic, watchful, determined, alert, fearless, loyal and obedient. While admittedly similar, the more reactive, prey driven German Pinscher, bred as a ratter, is a better fit for us than the more push button, traditional working dog temperament of the Doberman Pinscher.

We are looking forward to showing our puppy in February at the cluster of shows in Denver. We hope the judges will be less confused. We will go from the front of the line in the Terrier Group, to the back of the line in the Working Group. Though not a Doberman, I am training him to show like one since that may give us the best chance to be noticed in the ring. And to keep confusion about his breed to a minimum among the uninformed, we are thinking of having a T-shirt made with his picture and the words, “Proud to be a German Pinscher” on the back. We have to do something.

When breed standards were first written, they were often one long description. Wandering back and forth from the purpose of the dog to the shape of the head to the texture of the coat. The AKC encouraged clubs to rework their standards to fit within the framework of what we see today. Smaller, more easily understood paragraphs with headers, written with enough detail to be clear on most of the points. But buried in these reworked documents are glimpses of the people who stood behind the breeds we still see today. Hidden gems in the descriptions, spanning all seven groups, that once discovered are great sources of curiosity and some humor. Some seem part of a bygone era in both word choice and cadence. Some make use of descriptions that defy logic and others contain as much scholarship as a thesis paper. Take a look at the list that follows and try to match the quotation from the various standards with the breeds listed. Some are used more than once. The answers are found at the end.

The Breeds:

 Great Dane

Cane Corso

Border Terrier

Welsh Springer Spaniel

Gordon Setter Tibetan

Tibetan Spaniel

Bichon Frise

Alaskan Malamute

Flatcoat Retriever

American Foxhound

Anatolian Shepherd

Wire Fox Terrier

American Staffordshire

Rottweiler

German Shorthair Pointer

Spinone Italiano

 Beauceron

Beagle

Neopolitan Mastiff

Smooth Fox Terrier

The Hidden Gems:

1. …..stands well over the pads, and this stance gives the appearance of much activity and a proud carriage…

2. …. has a long, strong, clean, “one piece” head, which is unique to the breed.

3. This breed has twelve disqualifications. The most of any breed.

4. …. cropped or uncropped, the latter preferred.

5. This breed list no faults, only defects.

6. ….Yellow or mean-looking eyes are to be heavily penalized.

7. …. It is always a unit – the Apollo of dogs.

8. …. Hide very thick and loose fitting.

9. This is a breed that has no gross or incapacitating exaggerations and therefore there is no inherent reason for lack of balance or unsound movement.

10. …. Disqualification: Yellow bird of prey eyes. (2 standards list this DQ)

11. …. It should be of good strength, anything approaching a “Pipestopper” tail being especially objectionable.

12. …. Disqualifications: China or wall eyes.

13. …. Nose: Bulbous and spongy in appearance with upper edge rounded.

14. …. Pitted teeth from distemper or allied infections are not penalized.

15. Head described as the “cranium” in these two standards.

16. …. Teeth should be evenly placed and the lower jaw wide between the canine tusks.

17. …. Never fat or soft.

18. …. Extremely thin or fat dogs are discouraged.

19. (Referring to the head of this breed)… so rarely as to partake of the nature of a freak – a Terrier of correct size may boast a head 7 1/2 inches in length.

20. …. when the eyes are set too high up in the skull and too near the ears, it also amounts to a fault, the head being said to have a “foreign appearance.”

 As breeders, we are responsible for producing healthy, typey representatives of our chosen breeds. We spend time searching out the perfect stud dog and researching pedigrees. But, how much time does the average breeder spend reacquainting herself with the standard written years before as a blueprint? At a recent kennel club meeting, the members gathered around the table were each asked to quote one thing from their respective standards. Few could. How can breeders produce dogs that fit the standard if they are so ignorant of it? The fascinating descriptions hiding in some of the standards are probably overlooked by many people who consider themselves experts in their breeds. Judges are another matter. If breeders don’t review their standards, how can they hold judges to a higher level of knowledge? When the Gordon Setter standard was revised in 2002 the anachronistic description of the teeth was left intact. This may have be done out of respect to the breed’s founders, but maybe this single line has been overlooked for more than a century by the revisionists charged with making needed changes. Let’s hope when today’s breeders look at their standards they don’t have a foreign appearance.

The Answers: 1. Alaskan Malamute, 2. Flatcoat Retriever, 3. Beauceron, 4. American Staffordshire Terrier, 5. Beagle, 6. Welsh Springer Spaniel, 7. Great Dane, 8. Border Terrier, 9. Bichon Frise, 10. Cane Corso and Rottweiler, 11. Smooth Fox Terrier, 12. German Shorthair Pointer, 13. Spinone Italiano, 14. Gordon Setter, 15. Neopolitan Mastiff and American Foxhound, 16. Tibetan Spaniel, 17. Anatolian Shepherd, 18. Gordon Setter, 19. Wire Fox Terrier, 20. Wire Fox Terrier

The Black Russian Terrier was developed as a man-stopper in Soviet prisons in the cold war era. An amalgamation of several working and terrier breeds, this is a large, imposing, physically powerful breed. While the American fanciers have made great strides in the health of these dogs, the standard was changed in 2009 to accommodate younger dogs in the show ring that were below the stated height. While the standard now includes the caveat, dogs under eighteen months, in dealing with the size issue, this allows specimens not confoming to the written standard to potentially finish championships. What if these dogs never reach the size expectation? Does it matter to their breeders? Or do the wins matter more.

For a dog to reach its championship it must win 15 points. This must include two majors awarded under two different judges. Majors are either 3, 4 or 5 points each and result from a given dog beating a designated number of other dogs of its own sex or being named Best of Winners when there are a significant number of dogs in the opposite sex to make a major there. The number of dogs needed in each sex to make a major vary by Division. The AKC tabulates the number of dogs shown in each breed in each Division and assigns the numbers needed to make majors. While these numbers seem arbitrary to some, it is an attempt to balance competition within each breed across the country. It should not be easier to finish a Kerry Blue in Kansas than in New York. In our Division it takes 4 class dogs and 4 class bitches to make a 3 point major in Kerries. These are the smallest numbers for majors the AKC allows. Finishing a dog is difficult in our state where we go years without a major in either sex. It goes this way in many breeds across all thirteen Divisions. Since most exhibitors show an average of six times a year, it takes more patience and money to finish a dog than most people can allow.

Beginning in 2011, the AKC has tried to ease this situation by evaluating the point schedule annually instead of the previous three-year review. This should more accurately reflect exhibitor trends across all breeds. Keeping the point schedule realistic ensures the chance for exhibitors to win majors and finish dogs within their Divisions in a reasonable amount of time. But what is a reasonable amount of time? Is it one show season, two or maybe many more. Does it take one dog longer to finish than another because the dogs are of disparate quality, or because the numbers vary from season to season. Breed club specialties drive up the breed counts in whatever Division they are held. To count a huge, one time entry, seems unfair since these large numbers are likely to occur infrequently. AKC allows National specialties’ entry numbers to be excluded from the calculations. This works well when a breed’s National is held in conjunction with a two-day show weekend or is a stand-alone event without the support of any all breed shows. But many clubs hold their National during a four-day cluster weekend. If the AKC only deducts the number of entries for the actual day designated the National, there are still as many as four days of higher than usual breed entries. If a given breed’s National changes location every year, the numbers even out across most of the Divisions. But, if a breed club holds its National in the same Division every year, with the same four-day cluster of shows, these bloated entries can drive up the numbers needed to make majors. This is unfair, in the opinion of some exhibitors. It puts higher pointed majors out of reach for the rest of the season and takes longer to finish dogs than they think is necessary.

Several breed clubs have decided the AKC’s efforts are not good enough, fast enough. The Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier Club of America is one of these. It has approached the AKC to exploit a loop-hole in the Rules. They have declared every show on the weekend of their National to be of the same status so none of the entry numbers count toward calculating points in that Division. The Wheaten Club holds it National in Division 2 – Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania. There are probably the most dogs shown during a show season in that division. Exhibitors should expect more competition on a regular basis even without the numbers from the National. Instead of working together to enter and show enough dogs to meet the existing criteria for points, this enterprising club has succeeded in forcing a change to make finishing dogs easier and faster. Not how the system was designed to work, but how it can be forced to fit the desires of today’s exhibitors.

Making it fit may be necessary to make sure there will be competition in the future. With fewer and fewer dogs being produced and registered by breeders who value the existing standard the future of the purebred dog is in jeopardy. If nobody can show their dogs themselves and finish a championship will there be a need for dog shows? Making changes to the point schedule or to the breed standard to accommodate people without the patience or knowledge to meet success within the existing limits undermines what the sport is supposed to be about. To the casual observer dog shows go on as they always have. If these forced changes breathe new life into the sport how can we long-timers complain. Where else will we find the numbers to make our majors and finish our next dog.

On the last Wednesday of October a not so gentle reminder of the change of season came calling. Heavy, wet snow, the kind usually reserved for the Wichita weekend in April, fell until nearly ten inches had piled up. Running the snowblower seems the acknowledgement of defeat. A last acquiescence that our most beautiful fall in many years has given up and the blacken trees of winter are only days away. If the monster who has slept in the leaky shed in one corner of the yard for five months, must now make an appearance, then winter is nearing. Dreading trudging around the yard with the dogs, we gird ourselves in boots, jackets and hats. First to exit the house is the puppy. His first snow. A great photo-op. One taken by every person who has ever owned a puppy and lived in a snowy climate. The puppy has no hair and didn’t appreciate the wonder of what had transformed his yard. He soldiered on, but couldn’t wait to re-enter the house and resume customizing each room. The rescue dog has seen this many times before in her nearly eleven years. Including the two winters she spent feral in rural Douglas County. She endured the spraying of her snow encrusted legs in the tub and the drying and returned to her place on the end of the couch. Only two more to go. Eva and Peyton. Both of the soft coated variety and both sure to take up a lot more time and effort getting the early winter out of their coats.

There was no way to put if off any longer. They had to go out and I was there to supervise. Already that morning I had shoveled the outside walks, front and back, and cleaned off the cars. Me on the outside, my mom on the inside. It used to be my father on the outside, plodding around with the dogs, shouting at them to quit eating snow and get on with the pooping. My mom has waited patiently to dry and de-snowball dogs in the morning for decades. Our family tradition. I opened the door and let Eva, the Kerry, out first. She ran to the door, stopped short and looked out. Gamely, she trotted outside and turned on the walk to wait for Peyton, her Bedlington friend. I noticed she stood just a little more to the side of the door than usual. What did she know that I didn’t?

The cold air was filling the kennel room and when I reached Peyton’s area I saw he was facing the door air-scenting into the breeze. His jewel tone eyes seemed to sparkle and if a dog could smile he was already grinning. I let him out and felt the wire door fly out of my hand, banging back on the side of his run. He was gone. Racing past Eva, exploding out into the yard at break neck speed. By the time he had reached the shed, and began a turn down the long back stretch of the yard he was running full-out. Tassels flying and tail like a rudder out behind him. He lapped the yard many times. Up over the rock wall, down the steps, around the cage faster and faster with each pass. The puppy seemed transfixed as he watched his mentor from the cage. Eva came to stand by me and I caught a glimpse of my mom watching too, from inside the house. It had been five long months of heat and rain and boredom. Snow was back and it was Peyton’s season. Maybe it’s his Swedish heritage or that he was born in late Winter in Pennsylvania where snow is a frequent visitor, too. But the little lamb dog ran in his yard on this first snow day until the balls of snow on his legs made it impossible for him to continue.

It took about 45 minutes to remove the snow and dry out his coat. He would have run again if we had let him. I fired up the snowblower later that afternoon and felt guilty that I was going to carve up the yard into tracks the dogs would stay on to make our lives easier. Peyton would run in the yard three more times that day and once again in the dead of night when he came into the house to spend time with us before his bedtime. In our state, the sun shines nearly 300 days a year on average. The temperature, though in the teens over night, had been warm before the snow and with the sun’s help would melt what had fallen in a couple of days. A last respite to rake up leaves, winterize the house and cars and enjoy a few more days outside wearing only sweaters.

We can wait for more snow and the numbing cold to come. I don’t know if Peyton can.

This was a particularly hot Montgomery. After torrential rains made a ruin out of the Hatboro show grounds, and we’d heard the dog show rumors of standing water at the other venues, we packed rain gear and cool weather clothing. I could be seen standing in flip-flops, shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt outside in our back yard early in the morning practicing for the cold and wet conditions that surely awaited us on our annual trek to Montgomery. I had prepared myself for bad weather and mud. Lots of mud. Just like the mud year of 1999. Still we hoped for cool and dry weather.

Our dog and handler had arrived at our hotel the day before we had. The long drive from Colorado had served to increase her pain and his energy level. When we met up at the Hatboro show site on Wednesday afternoon, it was impossible not to notice her pale face and his nearly out of control behavior. It was impossible not to hope we’d get more than just a look, even though we knew better. These were not judges we’d show to at our local shows, but here we all were. 1800 miles from home, happy and excited to be in the covered shed where our breed shows for the first two days of the weekend. Looking around we knew everybody. Dogs we’d competed against all season and dogs known only through ads and online bragging. Some were disappointing, but most were not. Their owners were as proud of them as we were of our dog and at least as hopeful. These three preliminary shows, Hatboro I and II and the hell-hole that is Devon, serve as warm ups in grooming and showmanship to the marquee event: Montgomery County. The hope and tension build over the first three days and by Montgomery Sunday dogs and handlers are ready to show full-out.

It’s doubtful all but the most novice exhibitor actually thinks they will win at the National. So many of the judges’ decisions seem based less on the standard and more on what their colleagues think about their choices. This year we all knew who the eventual winner would be. An imported bitch, with the most beautiful coat in the entry, shown by the best known handler in our breed, backed by enough money to crush all the other competition. For several years the fancy has longed to see this man show a really wonderful terrier. While she is not without faults visible from ringside, she is decent enough for judges to pick the handler and feel good about it. With Best of Breed decided every day there was still enough placements left for most of us to hope we’d be in the money. All year people talk to each other about holding out their class dog to die for until the National where he or she will certainly finish their championship with a major. This attitude transcends mere hope to rest firmly on the conceit of the owners. Fortunately, most of us who will see these owner proclaimed wunderkinder ringside, will finish the weekend alive. And so it was this year. Standing around the ring enjoying the company of old friends and acquaintences, we watched the judging. Day one: a provisional judge who had judged our breed less than a dozen times in his career. Day two: a woman with a reputation for “doing what she wants” which translated to “doing what was expected”, and day three: the judge of most hope for most people. After completing her assignment it was clear she probably won’t be showing up on many panels stateside for a while. That left the last day. The most important day. The litmus test for our breed.

Momentum in sports is a curious thing, seeming to outrun hope in the minds of some. Dog showing is viewed as a team sport, handler and dog. But momentum in our sport is created by the number of judges picking a given dog in a short span of time and how fast the news can be disceminated to the fancy. As the weekend wore on in Pennsylvania, the same dogs were in the money nearly every day. Confidence and big ribbons could be expected on the last day from these dogs. But everything was errased for everyone on Sunday. Just like the playoffs. It’s a whole new game in the post season and Montgomery is the Kerry Blue post season. All the wins and losses seem to matter only if the judge reads the magazines and follows the stats. What matters to most is the opinion of friends and detractors ringside and of course, the pointing of the judge’s finger in the end. Every dog in the ring represents the hope of the owners and breeders from around the country. In no other show is the entry as diverse as on this day. In the specials ring, the dogs and bitches represent the ranked dogs from different regions. With hometown advantage going to the dogs from the East it’s tough for winners from other regions to break through. Our dog, the #49 dog, was in the lineup. Playing all year in and out of our Western division, winning and losing and building a reputation. The handler was hopful of some award, we were less so.

For nearly two hours the judge stood in the eighty-four degree heat judging dogs. Her picks in the classes were the obvious choices. This year the class dogs were mostly tall, rangey and lacking in breed type. Most were very dark. The class bitches were smaller and exhibitied more breed type. Most of them, of the cute variety, were pretty standing but none with the ground covering movement that is a hallmark of our breed. A few of the class entries traded places in the ribbons from the previous days, but a passerby knowing little about our breed could have made the same picks as were made on this day. The judge seemed to be looking at moderate dogs with the best movement. Hope again for some. Then the specials entered the ring. The dogs and bitches filling the eyes of the spectators. Most looked tired and hot. Dogs and handlers. Round and round each dog went. Separated into smaller and smaller groups. With each cut, dogs and bitches left the ring. Hope trailing behind them. The tension under the tent where the dogs surviving the cuts waited was palpable. Hope was a presence there.

Near the end of the judging, we invited Hope to sit with us. As the judge made her final picks our torment was over. Watching the handler and our dog get the photo for his AOM we were more than satisfied. A win, in front of friends from home and people we see only here, once a year. Dogs we show are still competitive, after more than forty years. Winning at home and on the road during the show season is gratifying, but getting an award at the National is affirming. Among the winners of the past, listed in the Kerry Blue section of the Montgomery catalog is the name of our Sunshine. Best of Breed here over fifteen years ago. Showing dogs is not what it has been. The mediocrity of this entry evidence of the impatience so prevalent in our breed. Later, we watched the group judging. The Kerry bitch was group three. The handler and owner had probably hoped for more. The crowd was smaller this year than any I can remember, including the mud year. Many of the dogs in the group looked tired and uninterested. The Skye Terrier, the perceived front runner, was one of these, turning in one of the worse performances of his career. This time it mattered. He left the ring unrewarded. A Sealyham, handled by a perennial East Coast handler won the show. Her large, leering face a characture of those who make their living in this game.

Our handler was nearly loaded up for the three days drive home by the time I reached our setup. She was more beaten up than when she came, and had probably hoped for more at these shows. But in this arena, we got more than we hoped for but what we should have expected. It was never about the quality of the dogs, afterall.

There will be more shows next season and a new start for us with another dog. In a different ring with judges less predictable than the ones we know so well. I will be the handler, learning and trying, tormenting myself with hope.

The #49 dog will stand somewhere in the line up of dog specials.  He will not be the biggest dog, nor the smallest.  His small, very dark eyes focused on his handler and her warm brown ones focused on him, occasionally turning away to watch the judge.  The handler will look a little tired, or maybe in some pain to those who know her well.  Most will never notice.  The young dog’s gray coat will be perfectly groomed.  Covering his fit, lean body and making the most of his wonderful conformation.  From ringside he will look like a contender, even if the judge overlooks him.  The owners will smile and squeeze each other’s arms in pride.  

In such a big entry there will be lots of time to watch #49 and the other dog specials.  Comparison is inevitable.  To some he won’t be enough dog, to others too much.  His owners and one of the breeders will be the most critical.  Is his coat shiny enough? Does he move cleanly coming and going?  How is his side-gait?  After several minutes, the gallery will notice a flaw in his grooming.  Faintly visible on the inside back of the off-side front leg, the hair is missing.  Just an errant slip with the scissors, surely.  Or maybe he chews his leg-coat, the bane of all owners of coated breeds.  The most discerning will notice another small spot on the outside of the off-side rear leg.  Just a little hole, artfully concealed with back-combing and a little hairspray. 

The handler smiles at the gray dog standing in front of her.  They share secrets only the two of them know.  The secret of the missing leg coat and the cause of her fatigue and pain.  She worries about disappointing the owners of the dog,  wishes these shows were just a month later in the season.  Many people who know her wished her luck on her travels to these shows.  But she has used up a significant amount of it just to be here.  The dog maybe more. 

 With a surprise Best in Show the first weekend of the show season, the handler made her dreams come true.  Another Best in Show followed a few months later with the owners sitting ringside.  She put so much of herself into this dog.  They were on the road nearly every weekend. Through a lot of hard work she put the dog on top of the stats.  Handler and dog, as one in the ring.  Coming home along a road she seldom drove, a flat tire was the harbinger of misfortune.  Limping home on the van’s donut spare she was looking forward to some down time before the next trip out.  It was a day she would always remember. 

The large snake struck quickly, twice.  The dog never saw it coming.  The van’s donut tire lasted long enough to drive them both to the emergency vet nearly an hour away.  Anti-venom did part of the work, but the spirit of the dog and his handler’s refusal to leave him did the rest.  She tended him at home, willing him to recover.  Then just a little more than a week later, her own body betrayed her.  She was harboring an unfelt infection that could have killed her as surely as the snake could have killed the dog.  

 Staying home would have been more prudent, rest and live to fight another day.  In this East Coast show with its East Coast politics, they will have only a slight chance to win anything. But maybe they have already won. She turns her full attention to the task at hand and fights through the pain to make the judge notice the dog.  So many shows behind them, so many more to come.  

From ringside, we will stand in silence, holding our breath as the judge makes her cuts from the dogs before her.  We don’t have any faith in this judge.  Still, it is our National and we come to show our peers in the breed what we have.  Our eyes follow the #49 dog special around the ring.  He looks like the same dog we have  seen occasionally this season.  Strong and fit.  His handler patiently working him.  We marvel that the two of them have survived their journey.  

Later that evening, we will go to dinner with the handler of #49 and her husband.  We will eat steak and talk about the weekend and make plans for the future.  We’ll toast what has been accomplished this show season.  We are the owners of the #49 dog, our Danny, and proud to call his handler, Odebt, our friend.

A little over ten years ago a genetic test to accurately determine the vWd status of any given dog of our breed was developed.  Tucker’s maternal grandfather was part of this study.  He was clear, just as it turned out is his grandson, Tucker.  Our perfect dog remains genetically perfect, if there is such a thing.  His name added to the list of dogs testing clear for the various maladies important to many breeders today.  But what does this tell anybody about the dog himself. Does it tell you about his show attitude or temperament around people and dogs?  Does it describe the quality of his coat and ease of movement.  Will knowing he will never succumb to these disorders make us feel secure he will live out his life until the age of fifteen and quietly die in his sleep?  Do his health clearances tell anybody looking at him as a potential stud dog whether he will improve heads, rears or shorten the loins of his puppies. Will they see in him an intrinsic value merely because he has passed these tests, and not because he has plenty of breed type and fits the standard better than most. As wonderful as these test results make us feel, they answer only the easy questions about our dog.

Genetics is probably the most complicated, least understood component in breeding.  Most breeders believe they know far more than they do about the role of science in dog breeding. Some fail to grasp even the rudiments of Mendel and rely too heavily on reported test results when making breeding decisions.  These attitudes, combined with the ability to pay for expensive testing, will get you written results but not what part in breeding the dog they should play. In dogs, once the information needed to produce a reliable test is collected, the research ends.  In the case of hip dysplasia, DM, vWd, eye diseases as well as various cancers, the availability of tests either to diagnose or identify the diseases, leave  important questions unanswered.  If a dog identified as dysplastic in one hip is bred, will he pass that on to puppies in each litter?  What percentage of puppies can a breeder expect to grade as dysplastic if sired by such a dog.  A frequently used sire in Europe, by the breeder’s admission, has produced 14% dysplastic puppies across all his litters.  Considering the US reported average is closer to 6%, across all Kerry lines, this seems unthinkably high.  Yet, this fine dog’s other attributes override this genetic flaw in the minds of all who have used him on their bitches.  Is the breeder right to offer him at stud?

 It is interesting how certain disorders catch the fancy’s imagination and take hold. If you stand ringside this year at our National Specialty and survey everyone there on their experience with DM or vWd you will undoubtedly find people who have never heard of either one.  You will also find a few people who have seen, or owned dogs, affected by these disorders and know the heartache they cause.  But the majority of those there to enjoy the show and dream of owning great winning dogs, will have heard of both conditions, but never seen them in their own dogs or those of their breeder or their friends.  It is also fascinating that while those who consider themselves responsible breeders test their breeding stock for these disorders, we are so accepting of the meager results we are given.  As the owners of two carrier dogs for DM, we want to know if we breed our carriers, and roll the dice on producing 25% at- risk puppies, what is the likelihood the genes will switch on at age 8 or 10 or 15.  If the disease manifests itself, in our line, at age 8 we are concerned, if the symptoms materialize at age 15 we are less so.  What causes this variation in the genetic timeline?  These are the questions we need answered, not just that we own two carriers and breeding them would make us pariahs.

In our breed, we have seen a progression of concern for heritable genetic disorders in the last forty years.  First PNA and its finger pointing and veiled referenced to “sick litters” and an unfortunate shouting match at a long ago board meeting pitting breeder against breeder each bound up in fear.  Then hip dysplasia.  This climaxed when a very nice dog of a well-known breeder tested dysplastic.  The owner sent a letter to the club in general that made the rounds, stating that while his dog was indeed dysplastic, he would continue to breed him because of his many other wonderful qualities.  This caused a wave of people refusing to use dogs in breeding programs that were graded ”fair” on their OFA evaluations.  All this changed when the great Mick was revealed as only “fair”.  Suddenly the furor died down and it was business as usual.  In the cases of vWd and DM, the origins of the concern about them is cloudy. The effects of these disorders are devastating.  Likely a few affected individuals cropped up in our breed, and 42 others, over the years with enough frequency that somebody developed a test.

Maybe we test because as a country we are rooted in the scientific method. Intuition and experience alone seem so uneducated and therefore lack merit.  We look for quantifiable values to support our decisions about breeding where really so much is indeterminable.  Maybe we test because we can.  Or maybe we are told it is the testing that separates responsible breeders from our nemeses the commercial and backyard breeders.  Sadly, we rely on these tests because many of us lack an eye for a dog, as they say.  Do we need the scorecard of genetic testing, to confirm the dog that caught our eye at our National is a great Kerry Blue? Can’t we just like him because we instinctively do?  When did most of us stop using our eyes and hands and turn to our databases to find a suitable stud dog or brood bitch. We spend our time and money testing our dogs but not really studying them.  Not really honing our eye.

 When the computer can’t find a dog for us there is always Europe.  Never mind you would be hard pressed to find a European breeder doing all the testing done in this country. We know our dogs are genetically tainted, we have tested them, therefore imported ones must be more genetically sound simply because they aren’t ours. A quick check of the OFA databases show many imported dogs have been tested and passed their clearances, just like their American cousins.  It is interesting to note these dogs were tested in the US, not in their countries of origin.  Their sires and dams remaining untested in their homelands.

Certainly, genetic testing is one tool a breeder holds that needs consideration before any litter is produced.  But I don’t believe it is the most important, or even the best resource.  Our own ideas and experiences combined with foresight and luck are more powerful. There are still no DNA tests for type and soundness. No predictors of just plain beauty, style and elegance. An over-reliance on genetic testing will not make the breed better.  And if you are breeding to exhibit, it is worth remembering the judge can’t see the perfection of a dog’s health testing results. He can see the perfection of the dog’s presentation in the ring. In general, our breed is a healthy one. Due to careful breeding practices and honesty among breeders for decades.  The fact so few of us have lived with, or produced, genetic catastrophies in the whelping box, in the absence of or long before these tests were available, suggests the foundations of the modern Kerry Blue were solid. Men and women who developed their breed knowledge, took risks and were honest about what they produced set the course for those of us coming later.

 

Their breeder showed up looking disheveled and worn out.  Still fiercely proud of the pups in the boxes.  Unable to admit her culpability in their miserable condition.  We gathered round a grooming table in the set up and pulled each puppy out of its plastic cave and placed it on the grooming table.  They neither shook nor looked to us for comfort.  The breeder had shaved their heads and attempted a clean up to aid in the evaluation.  None knew anything about walking on a leash or seemed particularly attached to their breeder;  the only human they had really known.  Overwhelmed by the circumstances they found themselves in, they remained shut down and too quiet for their breed.  Gently, we stood them, one by one, on their feet and with slow, methodical handling they each stood and accepted our hands.  Voices calm and dispassionate, we all shared our observations.  Ears cleaned, but too long neglected, hung like thick, heavy swags from the sides of their heads.  Coats lank and unbrushed draped their young bodies.   Scabbed heads revealed the effects of living in too close quarters with little to distract them from the ongoing battle for dominance.  These three pups were the remnants of a litter born in November, a planned breeding, eagerly anticipated by those clustered around the table in the waning afternoon. Looking at the reality of  the breeding all thoughts of champions and titles evaporated.  Instead, we were silently thankful there was no biting and each puppy seemed resigned to accept whatever came its way.

The puppies remained in the cool building inside their crates until the end of the show day.  Space was made for them in two vans and they started south to begin a new life.  Lives full of structure, good care, clean surroundings and lots of attention by dogs and humans alike.  As long as it takes they will have a home with these people, breeders in their own right, whose quiet intervention this day might save three lives. The success of the weekend was dampened by the pallor of shame and guilt we all seemed to feel.  These puppies are part of our line.  We all fought the voices of reason in our heads telling all of us this breeding would result in just what happened, but this one time we allowed our hearts, and their co-conspirators Hope and Dreams, to blind us. The pups’ conformation was poor and months of rehabilitative kindness and physical care will lie ahead of them.  The breeder melted away quickly.  She had failed to leave food for the pups, money for vaccinations or even names. Worse, she failed to leave them with a good start in life. The puppies will have to learn to respond to affection and someone calling them by name. If they are resilient in temperament, they stand a chance and will get a future.  If not, a kind but different fate will overtake them.

In April our cell phone rang in the car as we drove back from a weekend in a small fairgrounds where we had seen our dog win his second Best in Show.  The woman on the other end of the line was unfamiliar to me and in her neutral tone, told me of the death of her sister.  Her sister had been an acquaintance for close to fifteen years and shared a love of our breed. She had died from the effects of the rapid advance of cancer and left behind a young male from her last litter and his mother, bred by her friend and ours.  As is so often the case among our dog show family, other relatives don’t share our passion for dogs and the sport. When a death such as this occurs, the dogs are cast to the wind.  So many of us fail our dogs by making no written provisions for their care after we leave them for the last time.  Our friend was typical in this way.  Nobody in her immediate family wanted either dog but since they had been house pets, and well socialized, they were easily placed with those familiar with our breed.  The burden of finding suitable homes for this mother and son fell to members of the local breed club.  These caring people mobilized quickly and found sanctuary for these victims of circumstances.  The breeder of the bitch would not take her back.  She was after all, only the one who had caused her to be produced.  The bitch was sold eight years before, and any responsibility ended there.  People in dog clubs who do rescue see a situation like this from the standpoint that when a breeder produces a dog it is that person’s responsibility the dog’s whole life.  There are no valid excuses to do otherwise.  Harsh perhaps, and a philosophy that illustrates the conflict between old breeders and new.  Back in the day, all sales were final. No one had heard of the “dog community” where it takes a village to raise a puppy and those not performing to community standards are lambasted on electronic bulletin boards or Facebook.  We and the bitch’s breeder, come from that era.  Many of us do.  But some of us have always accepted into our homes dogs of our breeding, or dogs bred from our line by others, when the need arose.  Our Aejos and Elvis were two such dogs for us. Some of us have relinquished dogs raised in our homes, from others’ lines, when we became too ill or overwhelmed to care for them. Our Mickey was one of these. This shifting of dogs was done quietly with no public condemnation.  Just like-minded people working together for the good of the dogs. We feel disappointment in the breeder who wouldn’t accept or aid in the re-homing of the dog she had produced.  She may miss a wonderful opportunity to know a dog that would bring joy to her life. Old ways are not so easy to overcome for some breeders.

At shows, we often gather to talk dogs as we did in the past.  No matter the breed, newer breeders and fanciers sharing ideas and perspectives with those in the breed decades longer.  Rivalries are forgotten as we learn from each other.  Competitive in the ring, but comrades outside, we realize how many breeders are just like us. Those of us who love the same breed of dog share an even deeper sense of unity.  When one of us falters, we all feel the sting.  We assume and expect our friends to respond to the needs of their dogs in the same ways we have.  Feelings of disbelief and betrayal follow when they don’t.

Earlier this week we received word about some new and disturbing behaviors of the three puppies taken from the shows this past Sunday.  Habits that will need more time to overcome and may impinge on their ability to successfully transition to new homes. Still without names, they are struggling with the most basic behaviors most young dogs learn in the first few months of life.  So much time lost.  The breeder who vanished into the late day crowd at the show, has never contacted our friends to check on her pups.  Certainly she is ailing herself and has burdens at home not easy for the most able person.  But, she has a responsibility to these lives she caused to be created.  Her inability to provide the basics for all her dogs is not easy to excuse or understand.

These puppies are fortunate in one thing: their sire’s owners are compassionate and determined to do the right thing.  They are not club members and don’t need motivation from their peers in the social media to carry out this intervention.  They are strong-willed like our terriers, tenacious and patient.  Just what these pups need.  Eventually the breeder will re-emerge wanting at least one of the puppies back.  Likely the little bitch.  The cycle of neglect will begin again with her puppies.  We will do all we can to prevent this.