In the “good old days,” and I can still remember back that far, the term “kennel-blindness” applied to the man (or woman) who believed his or her dog(s) were perfect, could not be improved upon, and took every opportunity to share their opinion with all those who would listen. Today, the definition has seemingly become a bit darker and more biting.
In my last semester as an undergraduate, I was a student teacher. On late Wednesday afternoons, I attended my last required course, Philosophy of Education.
When the AKC announced six years ago they were going to start a separate competition just for owner-handlers, it seemed too good to be true for many who felt they were up against impossible odds.
Looking at a dog breed in old and new depictions is more or less the same as skating. Just as you think it’s going well, the ice is not yet thick enough and you end up in cold water.
John Buddie’s Breeder Wisdom on Facebook are the highlight of my day. John is a generous and caring mentor because of his intuitive way of asking questions instead of presenting information.
On a spectacular fall day with the bright red, orange, and yel- low leaves moving gently in the wind, I walked briskly, reveling in the crisp, cool air and bright sunshine. What a relief it was to actually enjoy a fall day after so many unusually hot and humid ones.
The Tibetan Spaniel is from Tibet, bred and owned by Buddhist monks in the Himalayan Mountains, known as a breed for more than 2000 years.
It’s just a colorful strip of material embellished with gold lettering and, in reality, worth only pennies. It’s what that ribbon represents which makes it something special. That slim purple swath may denote points toward a championship earned by hours of grooming, conditioning and training.
Hunting dogs can bring back some pretty strange things on occasion. Perhaps that’s not unusual for dogs bred and trained to do things that, for the most part, go against their nature.
