From The CC Vault: Gullible

By Peter Baynes

Originally published: June 2010

Unfortunately, however, we have only to look amongst the show dog fraternity to realize that there are those amongst us who will believe any kind of story whether it is a stupid idea, tongue in cheek, harmless gossip, dangerous rumors, or promises. Some unsavory professional handlers have even been known to search the gene pool for naïve clients in order make promises they cannot keep. 

Incidentally, naïve backwards spells “EVIAN”. I wonder how the bottled water company came up with that name for their product — which costs more than gasoline?

I have been known to joke about various incidents in my life, knowing that they were so unbelievable that no one would take them seriously. Unfortunately some of these statements were thought to be true, and the true stories were thought to be jokes.

For instance, no one believes that I once owned a best in show mouse. Even after producing the standard for show (fancy) mice, I will get suspicious looks, clearly still doubting my word. But tell someone that I pulled my wife, Helga, over the Berlin Wall and they will look fascinated, even after telling them that it was in 1950, long before the building of the wall and iron curtain.

Actually, Helga did escape in 1950, and it was just as dangerous passing through the heavily guarded border in the middle of the night. However, it is not as interesting as the Berlin Wall story, and most remember that one, even though I always add the true story to clarify that I am not James Bond. Maybe it’s because they think I am the secret agent type and I am being modest about my secret missions. Especially after they see my Russian photo over Checkpoint Charlie.

One of our friends must have believed my story that the Scottish Tourist Board paid my mother-in-law $300 a week just to swim up and down Loch Ness. When he finally met her he said, “You don’t look like the Loch Ness Monster.”

I would like this opportunity to state that despite the circulation of photographs depicting me accompanying Camilla Parker Bowles to Royal events, or my success in the Tour de France, they are fabricated. In fact I was disqualified in the Tour de France, and Camilla is not my type.

I have told several jokes in the past at club banquets which I thought were funny, and some of the audience did too. My favorite story is about a truck driver who came home to find his house had been burglarized. He decided to buy himself a vicious guard dog. He therefore purchased an attack-trained German Shepherd. He was so proud of his acquisition that he decided to take it down to the local bar to show it off. Unfortunately because of the vicious nature of his new dog, they wouldn’t let the dog in the bar, and he was told to tie it up outside. A short time later a small effeminate-looking gentleman entered the bar and with a lisp enquired, “Whose is that vicious German Shepherd outside?”  “Why?” the truck driver asked. “Because my Chihuahua just killed it.” “Don’t be silly how could a Chihuahua kill a vicious German Shepherd?” — “IT GOT STUCK IN ITS THROAT!”

I stopped telling the joke because, after one session, a nice elderly lady came up to me and wanted to know more about how a small dog could kill a large dog by getting stuck in its throat. For once in my life I was speechless. After that I stopped telling jokes and just related true facts about my life that some people found amusing.

Our good friend Stanley Dangerfield, a brilliant writer and raconteur, was also inclined to write or speak with tongue in cheek. In an article he penned for Our Dogs in 1983, he related his judging experience in India, and Pakistan, he wrote:

“Of the native breeds only one Rampur Hound and one Tibetan Mastiff turned up. . . . The following breeds were also scheduled: Caravan Hounds, Kombais, Naga Chows, Ryalpalayanis and Chippaparis. As none of them turned up, I cannot give more details. But on one other local breed, the Bhotia, thanks to one Shri Panwar I can fill you in so well as to make you proud of me.

“You can, it appears get Himalayan Sheepdogs, Tibetan Mastiffs and Bhotias from the same litter. Bhotias must never be brought to city dog shows as environs of urban areas make them irritable. Nor should they be bought during daylight. Some otherwise splendid specimens do not bark after sunset, and try to hide indoors. Therefore the Bhotia may only be judged after dark, when they can be seen in their true colors. At four weeks a pup’s tail is shortened by one quarter inch, the cut portion being roasted and fed to the pup, which makes the pup active and the tail hairy. When grown they can sense a tiger at a distance of a mile and in combat invariably kill it. They are in great demand in Switzerland, Japan, and the USA.”

He added, “PS: Kennel Clubs anxious to know more of these remarkable dogs in order to recognize them officially should NOT apply to me, I have given my all.”

I’m sure that, if in the unlikely event, any AKC officials are reading this, they are already searching the internet to add these rare breeds to the FSS list; some of these breeds are now, in fact, recognized by the Kennel Club of India (KCI) — the Bhotia is actually a Himalayan Sheepdog. At the time, however, they were unknown to me, and I had the temerity to send Stanley a photograph of a Bhotia being judged in the dark and showing its true colors. He later commented that I was the only one who questioned the authenticity of Shri Panwar’s portrayal. Sadly, Stanley died in 1988, but I still have most of his witty articles.

Another incident occurred when Stanley was staying with us during the Greenville shows. There was to be a meeting of the Cardigan Corgi exhibitors at my client’s house. They asked if I would bring Stanley to the meeting and give a little talk about the breed about which he had written about in his Encyclopedia. Upset that they didn’t have any Scotch at the party, it kind of got off to a bad start. He therefore divulged information about the breed which no one had ever heard before. One of the items was the fact that in Wales there are two types, one that circles the Welsh hills clockwise and is therefore left-gaited, and the other circles the hills anti-clockwise, and is obviously right-gaited. Depending upon the gait, legs were shorter on one side than the other. Trusting devotees of the breed were thrilled about this new information and were making copious notes for future disclosure. I didn’t quite believe the story, but who am I? I doubted the development of the Botswana Snuffle Hound, which is reputed to have a similar gait.

We cannot leave the AKC out of the gullibility stakes without mentioning that if they think that adding more strange breeds to the AKC roster, and adding a yearly fee for the thrill of judging them, is going to add enough revenue to solve their financial problem, good luck! It is hoped their daydreams don’t turn into nightmares.

Critics also claim that that it is credulous to think that their present method of approving judges is really a big improvement over previous schemes which produced many highly-respected judges. The present requirements seem to favor amateurs who may have never set foot in a ring as an exhibitor, but have bred a few champions, have the means and opportunity to attend 90 minute seminars, and fill in the boxes. Some of these, who really have very little practical experience might, in a few years of clever underground soliciting, be passed to judge several groups. It appears, to these critics, that the more knowledgeable dog people are being overlooked.

Other members of the Seriously Gullible Society (SGS) are some breed clubs who think that their standards are intelligible. Many exhibitors also must be crazy to think that when they win it is under a good judge, and when they lose it is under a bad judge. They obviously never think that the reverse could be the case.

I cannot honestly say that I can be excluded from any gullible group. When I first started in dogs I obeyed all the written instruction and bought my second dog, a female, from a famous breeder. She assured me that she had two pups of equal show quality and that I could have one of them; and she would keep the other one to show (I did not know at the time that this was a hackneyed sales pitch). The one she sent me was questionably of pet quality— but I was young and innocent — and I thought it was my imagination. As it grew older, and as I became wiser, it became obvious that I was right, and to compound the dishonesty the bitch also carried a serious genetic breeding problem.

Then, even after years of breeding, exhibiting and judging in England, I again ignored the truism, “If it sounds too good to be true  . . . it probably is!” I therefore fell for a proposal to come to the United States (by a convincing shady character) with an offer of immediate limitless opportunities as a professional handler — and other glowing benefits — which miserably turned out to be false. Luckily, the AKC at that time was very kind to me, and because of my trust in the organization we decided to stay. I regret to say that even they let me down, because after eventually being licensed to handle all breeds, they decided to quit licensing handlers. A devastating blow which meant any Tom, Dick, and Hilary could now have cards printed, offer cheap rates, and they did not need a license to steal clients.

Just think, even golf supporters were fooled by Tiger Woods’ clean-cut image, and so we should not be surprised that within our own sport, gullibility is widespread.

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