According to Wikipedia, in 1955, song writer and folk hero Pete Seeger wrote the first three verses of Where have all the flowers gone? and published in Sing Out! magazine. Additional verses were added in May 1960 by Joe Hickerson who turned it into a circular song. It became one of the most famous political songs of all time.

The lyrics include lamentations for the loss of “young men” passing; young girls marrying; young soldiers dying; graveyards covered with flowers; and the final refrain of “When will they ever learn?” Hearing this song while driving home from judging at a dog show recently, it brought to my consciousness that the lyrics of this song may apply to the current attitudes of many breeders, owners, and exhibitors and prompted me to ask the question (aloud and to the many deaf stalks of soy beans rushing from the fields to the sides of the road as if begging to be freed from the black soil which has given them such a rich and abundant life. Sorry about the extensive metaphor and the digression.) “Where has all the civility gone? Long time passing?”

I do not belong to any breed specific chat room and, therefore, I am not privy to some of the vitriolic exchanges recently between fanciers who proclaim to have the best interest of their breed at the center of their existence. However, on the social media sites I often visit, I am shocked at the lack of civility displayed by some of the contributors. Many times while reading and pondering the impetus for such, in my opinion, nasty, uncivilized speech, I am amazed at the lack of respect, compassion, understanding, and concern for the feelings of others. Where has all the civility gone? I recently removed myself from a Judges group online because of the volume of negative comments about specific judges.

Merriam-Webster’s online Dictionary offers these definitions of the word “civility” a: civilized conduct; especially: courtesy, politeness b: a polite act or expression.

Who would have thought? While traveling, I questioned myself about the last time I was polite or courteous to others.  I spent a good part of the six hour trip with my mind focused on enumerating the acts of politeness and courtesy to others recently. There were long stretches of silence during the drive.

Nationally, there is a campaign for the eradication of “bullying” in our society, especially our schools. When I read many of the comments by dog show enthusiasts to others (I question if the word enthusiast is appropriate to describe their behavior), I wonder if those negative comments could really be disguised as bullying. One adult bullying another! How pathetic I think that behavior is! What terrible role models we are for our children and grandchildren when we participate in such uncivilized behavior! What do we gain by being uncivilized; by being a bully? Is our breeding program better for that kind of behavior? Do we have better champions? Do our rosettes have an aura that others do not have?

HOW DO WE POSSIBLY BENEFIT FROM SHOWING 

UNCIVILIZED BEHAVIOR TO A COMPETITOR? 

If anyone who reads this can supply me with any tangible benefit in being uncivilized, I will devote an entire column to the benefit(s) of conducting oneself without civility!

Does the lack of civilized behavior make us better breeders, better owners, better handlers? What does one gain from being uncivilized to someone else? Does the lack of civility benefit us in any way? Doesn’t this type of behavior do more harm than good? Does this abhorrent behavior give us any edge? Do we gain more ribbons because we act uncivilized? Are we so uncivil that we equate bad behavior with being awarded championship points? Breed points? More civilized than a competitor? Well, ladies and gentlemen, lack of civility is just that! Lacking Civility!

Is our lack of civility based on desire to be the BEST? Are we trying to tear down those who are equal to us, moving ahead in breed points, breeding more champions? I JUST DO NOT SEE WHAT WE GAIN BY DISPLAYING UNCIVILIZED BEHAVIOR!

Where have all the breeders gone? Long time passing? Have we driven breeders out of the sport with our uncivilized behavior? When potential breeders are struggling to find a good stud dog, or lease a bitch, or buy a puppy for breeding purposes AND they are confronted with such negative statements about a breeder or a particular dog “printed online or in a breed group” is that encouraging to them as a potential breeder? Is that type of behavior beneficial to the future of the breed? Does the lack of civility clear the way for the perpetrator to be the best breeder/handler/owner? Do the people espousing the “dirt” about another breeder expect to become better breeders by putting down the breeding efforts of another fancier? What is gained? Have we resorted to this lack of civility to reduce the amount of hard work it takes to become a top breeder? Can I be the top breeder just by tearing down the efforts of someone else? I know I would not be interested in purchasing stock from a breeder who exhibits such behavior as trying to tear down the hard work of another breeder by posting uncivil comments. What is gained? As a participant in this sport that I love, I now have to work hard to be civil to someone that I have personally witnessed trying to tear down someone else’s efforts in order to promote their own breeding program! It makes me think uncivilized thoughts!

Where have all the owners gone? Long time passing! I am sure there is not a way to quantify the numbers of owners who have ceased to own dogs because of the atmosphere of negativity surrounding breeding programs and showing dogs. It would be an interesting study to see what really has caused the decline in ownership/breeding/exhibiting! I would not be surprised if much of the decline has been due to the lack of civility among the people involved in the dog show community. I can’t verify that conclusion and don’t have any spare dollars to bet that that conclusion is verifiable.

Where have all the club members gone? Long time passing! I have been a member of all breed, specialty, and national breed clubs. I loved being a member of those groups and worked hard for their success and survival. Most of our volunteer work went unrecognized as it should have been! Like many club members, our work was not for ourselves, nor our dog(s), but for the benefit of the organization. We worked hard and long hours and spent lots of our own money because most clubs do not have extra funds to provide the extra perks to the fancy that we wanted to be remembered for. We did it for the personal satisfaction of belonging to an organization. Many people who no longer belong to dog clubs left, I believe, because of the lack of civility demonstrated by the membership regardless of the size or mission of the club. Sometimes the member(s) are confronted by the negative comments of other members, or are excluded from participation because of the agenda of another member. Sometimes the exodus from the club is prompted by the behavior of the club’s leadership. Their behavior might be prompted by competing breeding programs or the desire to become the controlling force in the club. Sometimes it is outright “harassment” of the member(s) because of the lack of civility on the part of the club leadership. Whatever is the cause, many club members fade into the background or do not renew their membership or stop going to meetings because of the lack of civil behavior on the part of a club member or leader. How could that behavior possibly benefit the club? A breed? A dog show?

I do not have enough room in this magazine to relate the topic of this article to the current political climate in this country. I’ll leave that to the candidates and the pundits who follow their every move. I will leave with this thought about the candidates: Where has all the civility gone? Long time passing!

I realize this column has fused into almost a “rant” about lack of civility. However, time has come, in my humble opinion, that a major discussion be started on the lack of civility in the sport we love so much. This is the stand I am taking: I will no longer be a part of any discussion where one comments in a derogatory manner about an owner/breeder/exhibitor’s effort in this sport that I love. If you see me walking away from a conversation, stop posting on a social network site, or removing you from a “friend list”, just remember my stand!

“When will they ever learn?” is part of the last refrain in Seeger’s timeless folk song. I do not want any of us involved in the sport of dogs to ever have that refrain on the tips of our tongues as we mourn the demise of our sport! I encourage the readers to do all that can be done in a positive attempt to further the benefits of dog shows.

Happy and civil participation in dog showing!

To read the complete article click here 242 – September, 2012

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle

By Trisha Murphy-Horman, Sharrah Afghans, est. 1971

“Vun more time a-vound da ring!”, Judge Dr. Gerda Kennedy commanded in her native Austrian tongue.

As she twirled her long pointer finger, only brave, hard-bodied individuals dutifully ran around her ring. They hoped for a coveted win, usually with bragging rights, from the great Dr. Kennedy. Though her ring etiquette was taxing, there was a sincere acceptance for the unskilled exhibitor with a superior dog. Young, old, male, and female were charmed by her, because she had the ‘it factor.’ While exhibitors loved her, kennel clubs suffered because she was thorough and overshot time constraints. It hurt her marketability, but made the win more special. Gerda was impeccably dressed, usually in a white suit that never soiled. I imagine if she took a mountain hike dressed like that, she would return fresh and spotless. Amazing. The stately woman stood proud and uniquely different from other breeders, owner-handlers, and judges. As she judged in adverse conditions, even howling winds and driving rain left her untouched, like a biblical character parting the sea. She nary had a hair flip out of place. What was that magic spray? When judging, she had a critical eye for dogs in general, but she is gone. Dr. Kennedy survived a massive stroke January 17, but lost the battle on February 2, 2013 at the age of 93.

Born in Rohitsch Sauerbrunn, Austria  on September 25, 1919, Gerda came to the U.S. in 1948, escaping the devastation of war. She became a naturalized citizen in 1958. She did not practice medicine in the U.S, and in 1960 married Bill Kennedy, of Kennedy Engineering. In 2001, she had a heart valve replacement, and then sold the ranch in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, the birthplace of Shangrila Afghans. She moved to an independent living facility in Edmond, Oklahoma. She is survived by her daughter, Irene McPheron, of Edmond, Oklahoma and son, Louis Shaffer of Victor, New York. Her grandchildren are Aaron Hillhouse and Christa Hillhouse and Matthew Dean Shaffer and great-grandchildren are Ryan Hillhouse, Brandon Hillhouse, and Victoria Shaffer.

Shangrila Afghans, established in the ‘60s, was revered as one of the TOP places to purchase an Afghan. The name in the movie and place in the Himalayas were as magical as the fountain-of-youth connotation, but in reality the range was close in proximity to where Afghans originated. The Shangrila name was as mystifying as the private, stoic Gerda Kennedy, who rarely granted interviews. Her line was comprised of Akaba Afghans, from Lois Boardman, and Scheherezade Afghans, from Lt. Col. Wally Pede. Gerda added Swedish blood from Cynthia Guzevich’s Joh-Cyn line.

In addition to Afghans, Gerda also added Borzoi and Lipizzan horses. Per daughter, Irene, “Mother did buy two Lipizzan mares from Austria around 1970. They were both older mares that were bred in Vienna and then shipped to mother. However, only one of the mares had a foal and mother named him “His Majesty”. The two Lipizzan mares both did have the original “royal crest” which did prove that they were both from original Lipizzan stock from Austria. I have all paperwork – the horses are long gone now.”

As a breeder-owner-handler, Gerda achieved 13 Best In Shows on extreme mover, Ch. Shangrila Pharahna Phaedra, whelped in 1967. The exotic black and silver bitch, with long silk coat, held the title of #1 Afghan bitch of all time for many years. When she retired in ’72, she amassed 4 Specialty wins (there were less specialties then), 49 Group 1s, 21 group placements with 80 breed wins. Group 1s comprised 61% of her wins, and 76% were total Group placements. Phaedra was out of Am. Ch. Sandhihi Joh-Cyn Taija Baba x Ch. Shangrila Pharahna Cleopatra.

It was hard to deny Gerda and Phaedra. They were perfection. Deafening silence dominated as Gerda effortlessly lead Phaedra around the BIS ring. When the bitch hit her stride and went into double suspension, it typified pure kinetic balance. She floated and spent more time in the air than on the ground; it was machine-like and powerful. People jerked back awestruck. One time, Phaedra pulled Gerda off the mat and gaited to middle of the ring then hopped up on the BIS podium and self-stacked; she then panned the lowly humans. The crowd applauded, hooted and cheered with approval. Yes, she won that one, too. I was honored to sign the back of that 13th BIS rosette, and it was her last. It became a “freeze-frame” moment and started in motion my direction in Afghans.

I witnessed Gerda’s command, “Phaedra wee-wee”, and voila! The sweet thing looked up devotedly at Gerda then went on the single paper towel sheet. Phaedra would go on a bumper, if so directed. With a short 2 year campaign, Phaedra retired at age 5. Then Gerda’s quest started to breed her stunning girl. Much time was spent flying back and forth from Oklahoma to Illinois, my home state, where reproduction specialists worked diligently with Dr. Kennedy. Ultimately, Phaedra produced a small litter of 2 bitches and 1 male. They were not the best quality. As Gerda said, “Sometimes the genes are not kind, dah-ling.” It was then she began to discuss her struggles climbing to the top. It was as though she became liberated talking about it. She was a woman breeder-owner-handler in a man’s world and helped break the mold for women to follow.

Though Gerda had many Shangrila champions, her other heart tug was elegant and rangy, highly marked black and tan, Ch. Shangrila Pharaoh Gandharra (Ch. Sasha of Scheherezade x Ch. Akaba’s Royal Gold). I walked him at the same show as Phaedra’s last BIS in Michigan. Those were amazing times in the kingdom with Phaedra and Gandharra.  Gerda commanded the utmost in respect, and her entourages eagerly complied.

In the mid-70s, Gerda stopped exhibiting and breeding to judge because she had a strong belief regarding conflict of interest. Though many people today do both, the clean break was non-negotiable for Gerda. Since collecting semen was non-existent, she did not preserve Shangrila’s lineage. That’s when she began her mantra about gene pool. Certain actions and reasons for operating as she did molded my direction in Afghans even more.

Elegance in the ‘70s from Shangrila Afghans was unique. It was called “the look” and it was undeniable. My first Ch. Afghan, Ch. Shangrila Pharaoh Kauravya, won an art contest because of that LOOK. The award was an original 24 x 36” Virginia Szekula that resides on my ‘wall of fame’. Shangrila’s elegance and Gerda’s dedication to line breeding and gene pool I cannot stress enough, and I will come back to it. Type and movement were also vital. Blending these elements, as a breeder, along with Gerda’s exceptional grooming and exhibiting skills, as well as later when she transitioned into the judging realm, put her on the map forever. The combination of the aforementioned solidified my path.

Gene pool: Gerda repeated over the decades, “pick a line and stick with it.” No, she beat me over the head with it! She emphasized that was the ONLY way to preserve the Afghan Breed and stressed establishing a line, growing a gene pool and, more importantly, maintaining it. The maintenance aspect separated the true breeder from the chaff, she insisted. She claimed those who bred to a dog linked to their dog more than 3 generations kidded themselves. The gene pool had to “march forward” with each generation. She believed in two line breedings, (one in-breeding could be one of the two), the third should be an outcross with a dog that possessed a portion of the line. I call it ‘outcross light.’ That was Gerda’s ‘secret sauce’ for a gene pool. My first Afghan, Ch. Kauravya (yes, one of “the look” dogs), was out of Shangrila Pharaoh Kama (a Ch. Gandharra son) x Ch. Shangrila Pharahna Uvasa (a full Ch. Gandharra sister), and it was a tight line breeding. Whether one liked Shangrila dogs or not, most serious breeders appreciated Gerda’s efforts as an art form. But, she had acreage and few constraints; therefore, she had many dogs to develop a gene pool.

In her later years, we discussed the decline in Afghans. When she exhibited, 16 dogs were needed for 1 point, now it is 2. As a judge, she experienced people bringing many dogs from a kennel to create majors to finish inadequate stock. When she took those 80 Breeds with Phaedra, she consistently defeated 50-100 dogs (in ’72 it took over 71 males and 70 bitches for a 5-point Major).  Still, she pressed me to stay the course and educate.

While some judges today appreciate standard-sized, square, level-topped, deep-chested, open moving dogs, others award over-standard, slab-sided ones with poor front assemblies, high withers and bad toplines. Gerda felt it was the breeder’s responsibility first, but the judge must know a given breed well to excuse and educate where necessary. It should not be about assignments, but the dogs, but the trend has changed. Gerda had judge friends who refused to play the proverbial game then suffered with additional assignments. Those that participated gained power, income, and more judging invites. Gerda claimed judges were indirectly encouraged, by the AKC and/or reps, to put up the handlers. At first I did not believe her, but upon investigation, I believed it to be true. She felt it was harder than ever for a breeder-owner-handler (like me) to get in the Top 10 and maintain that status. Gerda had a strong opinion that dog shows are no longer about the dogs, but about the numbers and money. She was frustrated by such “shenanigans” and said it destroyed what the AKC once stood for – to work in the best interest of purebred dogs.

I talked with Gerda at Christmas and was ready to call her after the Chicago International. I was excited to tell her about my exciting special (84 crosses to her famed, Ch. Gandharra). In 3 outings, he started out the year with 2 more Group placements (total of 9), and was in the Top 10. Those 2 recent Group placements were from iconic Afghan judges as well. She respected both of those individuals, but repeatedly over the past 10 years stated one, “was a hard nut to crack.” Well, I did it! Gerda, was full of delight when I called… maybe longing for those days with Phaedra.

We also discussed dancing in Austria (she was a Waltz princess in Vienna), her safari, breeding, showing, raising kids, art, music, and vitamins. Yowza! She liked those vitamins!  Claimed she had the mind of a 60 year-old, so she tried to sell them to everyone. Regardless, like an attentive student, I took notes, and that’s why I have the information for this tribute. She would repeat stories she embellished and I never stopped her. I chuckled; she was a character.

After 42 years in Afghans and 8 Sharrah generations, having the first confirmed case of Parvo in the Midwest (yes, I am the one who started the fund and campaign and raised over $1 million for Cornell), then becoming the “Logansport Girl” (yes, again, and after that assault, judges must sign their books before handing out ribbons), going through challenges with Gerda early on, and communicating with her consistently in the past decade, will remain special. Though Dr. Kennedy was not a Parent Club member, Afghans and the dog world lost a grand lady and a tower of strength; the aura around her memory lingers.

Go around the ring, Gerda… one last time.

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, August, 2013

Click to Read more at 146 – August, 2013

By Amy Fernandez

Leon Whitney, with son George Whitney

Although Leon Whitney was 15 years older than Ernie Hart their lifetime friendship ultimately produced two generations of innovative contributions to the dog world.

When Whitney moved his family to Orange, Connecticut in 1930 it was all about location. Then a tiny rural farming community, Orange was conveniently close to New Haven and Yale. It offered access to cutting edge research and space for his growing kennel. In his 2007 blog, son George describes one of his father’s most ambitious projects, which commenced soon after their arrival. “With the ever-growing numbers of dogs came the expense of feeding so many. At that time there was no completely balanced dog food …“So what to do? The answer was simple, compound one ourselves.” Anticipating the scope of this venture, Whitney constructed an enormous garage with an oil stove and floor to ceiling shelves filled with wire bottom cages. “In those days there was no balanced ration for any animals other than for rats and mice.” Whitney’s garage became a laboratory. “Then came the white, pink-eyed laboratory rats. …It was my paid job to care for the 200 or so rats. Food and water daily and clean the cages weekly. The salary was $1 a week.”

By then, Whitney had bred dogs for two decades. Commercial dog food had been around since the late nineteenth century but few people trusted it, for good reason. Its composition and nutritional value remained anyone’s guess. This was attributable to several factors, but the biggest was the scant information then available about human or canine nutritional requirements. That didn’t imply lack of interest. For centuries, it was obvious that dogs required certain foods. Discoveries in this area dated back to the late 1700s, but genuine progress had to wait for 20th century advances in biochemistry. That made it possible to identify chemical compositions of foods and study the quality and amounts of specific components essential for health.

In January 1936 the AKC Gazette announced a major breakthrough. “Until comparatively recently, the average dog fancier had never heard of a vitamin – yet of late we have become vitamin conscious…yet, in the layman’s mind there is still quite a bit of confusion as to just what a vitamin is, what it does, and where it may be found.”

By 1930, much of this research was happening at the Connecticut Agricultural Experiment Station (CAES), America’s first government-funded public laboratory. Founded in 1875, prior to the advent of food and drug safety regulations, the Station not only analyzed soil and fertilizer samples for local farmers, it provided tox testing for Connecticut residents justifiably concerned about ingredients in their food, water, and drugs.

Concurrent research at the Station and Yale’s Sheffield Scientific School nearby led to several crucial discoveries. Rat and mouse feeding trials consistently demonstrated that formulations of protein, carbs, fats, salt and water caused several dietary deficiencies. Obviously, crucial elements were missing from this mixture, but that remained speculation until biochemical research at the Station began focusing on the composition of plant proteins. This led to research on essential amino acids and that was the key to a central concept of nutrition. The Station was paradise to someone like Whitney. George recalls accompanying his father on frequent visits to utilize its lab services and hang out with the researchers. And right around this time, the biggest break in this field happened right there, the discovery of the first documented vitamin, which they dubbed fat-soluble A.

Whitney avidly followed this research, adding it to his growing stockpile of theories. In 1971 he wrote, “Many of my observations were made on dogs used in nutritional research. Over 12,000 puppies have been born in my kennels, mostly for nutritional research studies. One would have to be blind not to have made some useful observations.”

According to George, his father questioned many popular misconceptions of that era. “Questioning the knowledge of that time that dogs could not tolerate much fat in their diets, Dad wondered about that idea when he knew dogs often killed animals such as woodchucks and ate the whole animal including the fat.” Whitney began tinkering with a commercial rat food formula. “Soon we had a rat food that would grow rats twice as fast as and healthier than the commercial rat food….The next step was adapting this formula to create a dog food. …It amounted to a self-learned home-earned degree in canine nutrition.”

Delighted to get rid of it, local butchers supplied Whitney with all the beef fat he wanted. That minimized one complication, but this project redefined the concept of homemade dog food. Whitney’s mixture required 24 ingredients. George grew up learning the routine of purchasing, mixing, and storing them. “A giant pile of bread meal was piled on one side of the sanitized garage. Carefully weighed quantities of the other ingredient such as bone, fish, beef, alfalfa leaf meal on the other side. Then began a slow process of shoveling the pile from one side of the garage to the other to mix it. To be sure some of the trace elements were well-mixed required hours of shoveling back and forth. …At first we mixed several hundred pounds and eventually a thousand pounds at a time.”

The result could be classified as one of the earliest high performance formulas. Feeding trials were the next step. “The new food with fat added resulted in the healthiest looking, most active hunting dogs imaginable.” Other local kennels began requesting Whitney’s homemade food, and within a couple of years, all that backbreaking work paid off. “For a short time we donated food to a few kennel owners and the results were so outstanding a company put the formula on the market.”

Although their careers diverged, Whitney and Hart never lost touch during these years. Hart then lived in nearby New Haven with his first wife and sons, Allan and Lance. “He always did some freelance writing and illustrating,” says Lance. “About half the time he would work in New York and commute by train from Connecticut. After awhile, he got tired of that and he would go back to fulltime freelancing.” Hart’s success with funny animal comics like Super Rabbit gave way to changing consumer tastes. By the late ‘40s James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, and Edward G. Robinson dominated the box office and true crime took center stage. Hart’s innate love of adventure had free rein. He transitioned to Goodman publications like Justice Comics and Official True Crime Cases. In 1946 he also started drawing and writing the comic book horse series Rocky Lane’s Black Jack for Connecticut-based Charlton Publishing, in Derby. That led to assignments in the hottest genre of the moment, Westerns.

Shows like Gunsmoke and Bonanza renewed America’s enduring obsession with the Old West. Hart was familiar with this theme thanks to his youthful adventures living and working throughout America’s West. In 1957, he became executive editor of Charlton’s newly launched Real West Magazine featuring stories on Indian lore, famous outlaws and gunfighters, and western movie stars. Much of the material came from historical records. This was Hart’s introduction to research, which became a valuable skill in his next career move.

Changing tastes in popular fiction was just one aspect of the America’s improving economy. During the 1940s, the commercial dog food industry exploded from a niche market into a cash cow. By then, demand for Whitney’s dog food formula attracted investors. It was put into production by Baloration in Brooklyn and was soon purchased by Tioga Mills in Waverly, N.Y. Renamed Tioga Dog food, it’s long gone, but its short, successful production run yielded royalties that covered four years of veterinary school for Whitney and his son.

In 1940 Whitney graduated from Alabama Polytechnic Institute, now Auburn’s College of Veterinary Medicine. He profiled this unique personal and professional story in the AKC Gazette that June shortly after son George returned from military service and entered Auburn. In the article, Whitney explained that his fascination with “To have lived with more than 500 cases of distemper, seen a 70 percent mortality rate, dug the graves for all those puppies and dogs and one day to finally realize that this is not going to be necessary in the future.”

His veterinary career coincided with unprecedented advances in nutrition, vaccine development, antibiotic therapy, diagnostics, and genetics, reinforcing his devotion to the profession. “After having bred and raised several thousand dogs , having lived with them, observed them in sickness and health, I have learned how easy it is to be mistaken in one’s diagnosis.” His background in farming and dog breeding also gave him a dual perspective. He didn’t conceal his respect and admiration for breeders saying, “many of their observations are nothing short of profound.” Whitney’s mid-life career change didn’t deter his passion for research. He lectured on clinical pathology at the nearby Yale School of Medicine until 1964, but that was just a part-time gig. “Research and application of that research will occupy my time from now on, and whatever is learned will be given to the veterinary profession. It is our earnest hope that from the Whitney Clinic will come results to help animals and humanity as well.” After graduating in 1943, George and his father established the Whitney Veterinary Clinic on their Orange, Connecticut property and maintained the practice for 50 years.

“We eventually moved out to Orange, which was very rural.” Lance was nine when his parents relocated their family to Orange to take advantage of the town’s superior school system in the early ‘50s. “We built our house at the end of the dirt road about 150 yards from the Whitney Clinic. My brother and I practically grew up there. Leon had pretty much retired and George Whitney was running the clinic by then.” Lance worked at the clinic throughout his teens, remembering George Whitney as modest, unassuming, and very friendly. He also worked for Leon, who retained his expert ability to spot ideal prospects for low wage labor. “At that time Leon was breeding racing pigeons, and he had a flock of sheep and a ram.” Whitney’s pay scale hadn’t changed much either. For years, Lance cleaned his pigeon cages for $1 an hour, slightly better than what George had received decades earlier. The monetary compensation paled in comparison to his memories of cutting across the field with a wheel barrow while dodging Whitney’s charging ram.

Inevitably, both brothers developed an enduring love for animals. Like George Whitney, Allan became interested in Beagles. Years later, in his Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds, his father proudly recounted their shared pastime. “The author, and his son, Allan, hunted, showed, kenneled, and bred specimens of this fine breed, among them the famous bench champion, Lynnlann’s Button Up, who was also a fine field trial dog and headed the kennel’s stud force.”

“I got into showing rabbits,” says Lance. During these years, his father primarily freelanced from home. “He was always in his studio working, but you could go in there anytime you wanted to talk to him or needed anything. He would do anything for you. He used to drive me all over to rabbit shows.” Hart may have moved his family to Orange for the formal education opportunities, but daily life became an equally important learning experience. Lance remembers having plenty of freedom to explore and cultivate wide ranging interests. It was a childhood that encouraged creative thinking.

During these years, Hart and Whitney not only became neighbors, they became co-workers again, thanks to one of the dog’s world’s more eccentric characters. Millions of dog lovers were introduced to their chosen breeds thanks to a TFH book, even though the company’s name made no reference to dogs. Dr. Herbert Axelrod emerged with Tropical Fish Hobbyist in 1952.

It was a spin-off of his successful tropical fish book. The sales appeal of its academic descriptions and scientific terminology defied the publishing world’s predictions. It also confirmed Axelrod’s belief that pet owners appreciated technical information, and inspired his start-up venture of pet care guides, TFH Publications. Back in the day when he was pulling this together, he needed content. That led him straight to Leon Whitney. He purchased the catalog of Whitney’s Practical Science Publishing in 1956, and hired him to produce manuscripts on topics from dog training to pigeon racing. Hart soon came aboard as a freelance illustrator, editor, and ghostwriter.

Axelrod pioneered this publishing niche, and ensured its success with search-and-destroy business tactics. He acquired the Nylabone recipe and this perennially popular item gave him leverage. Retail outlets carrying Nylaybone were required stock TFH books – which came with a no-return clause. Orders poured in and TFH used every connection to recruit writers. George Whitney contributed a manuscript on Beagles, and later, Allan Hart collaborated with his father on several TFH books. These were the triumphs. This unorthodox approach wasn’t uniformly successful.

But for Ernie Hart, tight deadlines, uncertain production schedules, and abrupt changes in editorial focus seemed like business as usual. Former TFH editor Neal Pronek recalls those days clearly. “Ernie did a lot with TFH before he became a regular part of the staff, but no one knew him as a comic book artist. He told me he had worked as an editor on some detective and true crime magazines in the ‘50s, and had even posed for some of the covers.” Pronek remembers Hart as, “a very capable and talented individual. He was a good looking man with a very continental look. He had this little pencil mustache and used to wear a cravat. He was very outgoing and personable. Dr. Axelrod was very much taken with Ernie’s personality.”

Axelrod recognized Hart as an asset to the team although his role at TFH wasn’t exactly clear. “TFH books were illustrated primarily with photos,” says Pronek. “We used very little line art.” Dog lovers growing up in the ‘60s probably recall some of the classic Hart illustrations like tomarctus, the prehistoric dog were reprinted in dozens of books “We also published and sold a series of dog note paper with art created by Ernie. It was a very popular item.”

Pronek admits that Hart, “had a certain failing as an editor” like ignoring the economic realities of production. “Seymour Weiss worked most closely with Ernie. He was strictly a dog book editor and that was Ernie’s main thing. He was supposed to be editor-in-chief, but he was mostly concerned with the dog books and really didn’t work on our other animal books.”

AKC Terrier judge Seymour Weiss spent 42 years as a dog book editor. “I worked with Ernie for a number of years. We not only shared an office, we shared a birthday, October 2.” According to Pronek, that coincidence wasn’t the only thing that got his attention. “Ernie and Seymour shared an office for a couple of years. Ernie was a very garrulous guy, and I remember Seymour complaining to me that he would be trying to read manuscripts and Ernie would just talk and talk.” As a working relationship, it was a good match. “He was good for me, I was very good for him” says Weiss.

When Weiss commenced his five year stint at TFH in 1964, he described it as, “a very commercial house with many connections to the pet industry. I started nudging them to be more fancier friendly. They were far off that format.” TFH is primarily known for rudimentary pet guides, but they broke the mold during that five year period, producing classics like Dr. Alan Kirk’s Scottish Terrier book and Rev. Allan Easton’s Shih Tzu book. Both featured cover art by Hart. These, and other breed portrayals for the TFH “This Is” series have become iconic images. Although it wasn’t on the production schedule, Weiss explains that his first champion also became an Ernie Hart cover. “In the early ‘60s I asked Ernie to do a painting of my first show dog. He charged me the princely sum of $50 for a watercolor head study. It hangs in my office as we speak.” Weiss wasn’t the only admirer. “At the time, TFH was publishing a Dandie book in their paperback series.” Axelrod, who Weiss calls “a character-and-a-half’” took a look, liked what he saw and made an executive decision to reproduce it as the book’s cover art.

“As far as editorial ability, that’s why he had me.” Hart’s eclectic dog experience fit perfectly like the last piece of a puzzle. “Ernie was an interesting, worldly fellow. He had traveled extensively, lived around the world, and he knew a lot of dog people before my time.”

Hart’s Spanish-Portuguese ancestry sparked his insatiable wanderlust. His student days at the League locked it in. “When I was growing up, he really didn’t have the money for that,” says Lance. “He got more into traveling in his later years after he and my mother divorced and he met his second wife.” By the 1960s Hart was combining his passions for travel and German Shepherds. Lance recalls his father frequently traveling to Germany to judge, visit breeders, and import dogs, including sending Lance an imported German Shepherd bitch in whelp as a wedding present. In 1955, he wrote the first TFH edition of This is the German Shepherd. Subsequent editions in ‘57, ‘60, ‘64, and ‘67 contained extensive new material documenting this fabulous era of the German Shepherd world.

Hart appreciated many breeds but nothing rivaled his devotion to German Shepherds. Like most of his generation, he came of age during the Strongheart/Rin Tin Tin era. But it was no casual fling for Hart. “He always had a German Shepherd,” confirms Lance. His mentor, Captain William Goldbecker, shaped his tastes and his lasting admiration for German bloodlines. Although Hart never bred extensively, he was a serious importer. His annual pilgrimage to the Sieger and familiarity with German evaluations, surveys, and testing raised his awareness of differences between American and German breeding programs. He especially admired the physical condition and mental acuity of Sieger competitors. In comparison, he considered American German Shepherds coddled house pets. “Remember, when the Germans declare that Shepherd dog breeding is working dog breeding, they mean it…No matter how beautiful a dog may be, if he does not possess working qualities and come from good family, German breeders don’t want him.”

In the 1967 edition. he mentioned some of his treks to the Sieger, which he called Shepherd shrines. “We, the Harts, have jetted to Frankfurt for the 1963 show and in 1964 embarked via the Dutch flagship S.S. Rotterdam for Holland where we picked up a Peugeot station wagon and drove leisurely to Cologne for the Sieger show.” Hart admitted that his annual trips, “inevitably get out of hand and we find ourselves viewing wonders greatly removed from Germany.” That year, the final destination was the Villa Santa Emilia on Spain’s Costa del Sol where they lived for a year. Hart immersed himself in local culture, cultivating tastes for flamenco dancing and bullfighting. He also maintained his typical work schedule during his year in Torremolinos. He completed several paintings and three books including his most ambitious TFH project, his epic Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds, which he designed, wrote, and illustrated. Published in 1968, it’s a whopping 780 pages of breed histories, official standards, and lengthy chapters on canine evolution, breeding and genetics, care and training, and a lifetime of personal recollections.

This included many experiences from his long association with Whitney like his introduction to Bloodhound training and handling. These personal accounts emphasized the fact that much of his material came via direct experience rather than secondhand research. “The author is a staunch coon hunter who has followed many dogs through the darkness and will always thrill to the bawl of true running hounds on a crisp, clear night. One of my fondest memories is of a Maine coonhunt with Joe Stetson of Field and Stream fame, and Dr. George Whitney, a Coonhound and Beagle enthusiast from way back. But that is another story.” It qualifies as the last dog encyclopedia to emerge from that bygone era of well-rounded experts like Walter Hutchinson and Will Judy.

In June 1965 Hart and his wife, Kay, returned from Spain and settled in Scotch Plains N.J. near his new full-time TFH position in Jersey City. Weiss recalls visiting them at home. “He had a male that he had brought back from Germany. It was quite an impressive dog.” In other words, Hart’s import was territorial and protective. But true to form, he was exquisitely trained. “He looked at you like he was thinking ‘gee, what’s the best way to dispatch this person’ but he was actually fine in Ernie’s house.”

According to Lance, “He became quite good friends with Herr Wasserman who had a kennel over there.” Hart’s admiration for Wassermann’s bloodline was showcased in his description of the 1959 Sieger Volker v. Zollgrenzchutz-Haus Sch. H III, the dog that had warmly greeted Weiss. Hart called him, “a living model of what a male Shepherd should be with the aura of nobility that is so scarce and difficult to define.” His admiration for this type is evident in his portrait of the Volker son he imported. Generations of German Shepherd lovers are familiar with Hart’s painting of Condor v. Sixtberg, SchH. II from the cover of his book. Pronek recalls Hart saying that he had turned down an offer of $40,000 for one of his dogs. “And that was back in the ‘60s when it really would have been a lot of money!” Hart understood the value of these dogs, which went far beyond money.

In 1962 he acquired a Volker daughter, Della v. Devrienthof. His satisfaction prompted him to arrange a mutual lease agreement a few years later. He sent Condor to Germany for a year in exchange for Volker “so American breeders would have a rare opportunity of utilizing his great genetic heritage to better their own stock.” In his book he bluntly expressed his disappointment with the outcome. “Strangely enough, the demand for Volker’s services was much less than expected.” He called it, “a sad commentary on the breeding acumen of the fancy in America.”

By then, Hart’s preferences were increasingly at odds with American ideals of the era. Needless to say, his resulting editorial commentary would never appear in a breed book today. “By far the greatest menace to the future of the breed is a particular type of wealthy novice. Possessed of the wherewithal to keep and breed any amount of dogs, and kennelmen to care for them, this novice blunders arrogantly forward by virtue of the authority vested in him by his bankbook, and unhampered by knowledge, breeds indiscriminately, producing litter upon litter of worthless stock.” He then details the methods of promoting and finishing mediocre stock that are quite familiar today.

His dedication to working German Shepherd bloodlines wasn’t just talk. In 1960, he helped to found the non-profit Fidelco Breeders Foundation. “I, Ernest H. Hart, was one of the founders with Charles Kaman. Quietly, over the last several years, Fidelco has experimentally bred to produce true working dog temperament and utility. The program deals with scores of German Shepherds.”

Whitney’s influence is clearly evident in this project that combined inbreeding, outcrossing, and meticulous observation. Today, the Fidelco German Shepherd is called “a breed within a breed.” “The tools used to produce the animals that fit the Fidelco pattern of utility are exhaustive data compiled through research here and abroad, intensive charting, testing, and breeding experiments, coupled with genetic knowledge and complete objective selection of the animals utilized to perpetuate the program.”

Germany had almost a 100 year head start developing evaluation and training programs for working dogs. Hart understood this when he said, “conclusions arrived at by Fidelco and proven through research and actual breeding of many animals over many generations, led the program to almost completely discard stock carrying American-bred lines, because of lack of consistently sound, working temperament, and to concentrate on pure German breeding.” In 1967 he proudly noted, “Fidelco-bred dogs are doing a job for mankind, serving as police dogs, guards, and as guide dogs…  The percentage of useful stock is now approaching a highly satisfactory average of approximately 80 percent.”

This wasn’t the only milestone in Hart’s life during those years. Inevitably, his sons, Allan and Lance, grew up loving science, medicine and animals. “My older brother became a veterinarian,” says Lance. “I went to pre-veterinary school and then switched to psychology.” He remembers Allan, “chomping at the bit to start practicing. U.S. vet schools only offered four year programs, but he found a two year program in Australia. Back then, air travel was very slow and expensive, nothing like it is now. He was gone for four years.”

Allan Hart graduated from the University Of Sydney in 1962 and practiced briefly in Australia before returning home. Rufus James, Chief Laboratory Technician at New Haven Central Hospital, met him in 1986. “We hit it off immediately because of our interest in laboratory medicine.” Their mutual interest in research and travel quickly made their working relationship a friendship. “He settled in New Jersey and took over a fairly large mixed practice from a vet who had recently passed away.” That success would have anchored many people for life but Allan had his father’s wanderlust. “He traveled until his death.” James recounts that Allan eventually sold the New Jersey practice and moved to Hawaii for several years before returning to his family’s home base in New Haven in the early ‘70s.

He established a practice in North Branford, a semi-rural community in south central Connecticut about 15 miles from New Haven. It was his mother’s home town and he grew up in the area, but those weren’t deciding factors says James. “He came across a building that had been a lawn mower repair shop and he saw its potential as a veterinary hospital. He was quite the visionary. He was also very smart about finances. His initial investment in that building was under $1300. He also managed to save a lot of money by doing much of the work himself. He renovated the building and converted it into an outpatient practice. He was definitely a bargain hunter. His initial investment for the equipment was only about $1500.”

This modest investment became Veterinary Associates of North Branford. Before long, serious dog breeders throughout the tri-state area were trekking to Branford, including Seymour Weiss. “Aside from the fact that I knew Ernie, we used to take our dogs to his son, Allan, who had a private practice in North Branford. It was a mutual respect between a veterinarian and a breeder, which is something you don’t see much these days. That’s the way it was with Ernie’s son.”

Allan Hart grew up accepting the concept of mutual respect and collaboration between breeders and veterinarians. That’s precisely the sentiment Leon Whitney had expressed way back in 1940 when he first began practicing veterinary medicine. “I know that very observant dog breeders can learn many facts that clinicians cannot. I hope to learn as much from them.”

Leon Whitney, the source of inspiration for so many incredible ventures, died in 1973. Then in his fifties, George had practiced at the Whitney clinic since graduating from Auburn. That had been his father’s dream, but George had greater ambitions, which he described in his blog: “Many years ago a group of veterinarians in Ohio worked together and created a central hospital system in which each vet had an office and all major surgery and major workups and sophisticated treatments would be done at the central hospital. That hospital still thrives. Reading about that success, a group of vets in the New Haven area gathered to study the possibilities for us. It took two years of meetings to accomplish it.”

Today, it’s common for veterinarians to share a group practice. Although it has long been an accepted business model for doctors, the arrangements was virtually unknown in the veterinary profession in 1970. “This central hospital idea was something Allan always wanted to do,” says James. “Back then there were only one or two in the county.” Group purchasing and cooperatively sharing expensive equipment were obvious economic advantages, but that was just part of it. “He especially loved being able to exchange ideas with other veterinarians.” In 1974, Allan Hart and George Whitney became founding members and part-owners of the New Haven Central Hospital for Veterinary Medicine.

“Dr Whitney was fantastic,” says James. “We connected so well because of our love for reptiles. I had my snakes and he had his, and this was always a talking point.” James emphasizes that he felt privileged to know George Whitney as a friend. “Dr. Whitney was a multi-faceted, multi-talented man. He was so friendly and approachable, and his interests went beyond veterinary medicine. He was very much into politics, and when he was about 80, he became a runner.”

In 1968, shortly before Allan returned to Connecticut, his father moved to Clearwater, Florida. Although he was officially retired, Lance confirms that he never stopped working. “He really loved creating things and was lucky enough to work in those fields. Later in life he got into abstract art. He really liked Kandinsky.”

In addition to exploring expressionist art, Hart never lost interest in writing or ambitious projects. He must have fallen in love with a concept as practical and innovative as Central Hospital. Perhaps he couldn’t be there for the planning and construction, but he was determined to contribute. Lance recounts an incident that very likely inspired one of his finest projects. “When my brother moved back to New Haven, he tried to find all those murals my father had painted for the W.P.A. back in the ‘30s, but he wasn’t able to find any of them.” Unfortunately, a tremendous amount of W.P.A. art was lost or destroyed.

New Haven obviously required a replacement and the New Haven Central Hospital For Veterinary Medicine soon received a 25 foot oil-on-canvas Ernie Hart mural. It was completed at his Florida studio and flown to Connecticut in three sections ready for installation on panels that were prepared in the clinic’s reception area during construction. As he envisioned, Central Hospital and the mural have become part of New Haven history. Seymour Weiss describes it as a depiction of “the dog’s place alongside man throughout the development of civilization. It portrays cavemen, cape hunting dogs, a policeman with a German Shepherd, hunters with pointers and setters, a little old lady with a pet, and small children playing with dogs.”

Outwardly, it successfully illustrates the timeless bond between man and dog. However, from a personal standpoint, it says far more. Central Hospital was an undeniable source of paternal pride for Hart, but he also recognized all the indefinable elements that had played a role in its foundation. The mural documents the long journey that culminated in this innovative landmark in veterinary care.

But that’s not all. Hart also paid homage to the mentors, friends, and co-workers that had shaped his life and career. The influences of George Bridgeman, Thomas Hart Benton, and Leon Whitney are obvious. Three vignettes feature German Shepherds, acknowledging his debt to Bill Goldbecker, Charles Kaman and the Fidelco Breeders Foundation, and the many outstanding German breeders he knew. His comic book work is showcased in compositional elements like the split panels, dynamic gestures, and narrative elements breaking out of their frames. Although Hart was devoted to purebred working dogs, he also pays tribute to the importance of companion animals. It’s easy to miss, but his perfectly rendered little budgie signifies one of his many TFH books.

In 1977 he co-authored his last TFH book with Allan, Living with Pets. “He really kept going and worked right up to the end of his life,” says Lance, who recalls his father industriously working to finish a painting and a book in 1985. “He finished the book. A few days later he finished the painting and took a rest. He went to sleep and never woke up again. He had typical age-related problems, but wasn’t really ill.” Possibly, Ernie Hart knew that his work was complete. His death on May 2, 1985 was unexpected, but his mural provided a constant reminder of the legacy his son carried forward. Possibly, it also inspired his intuitive skills because Central Hospital was far from Allan’s only significant achievement. Like his mentors, he was dedicated to answering some of the questions that had plagued breeders for centuries.

“Most veterinarians and techs realize his contributions to the world of animal hematology,” says James. However, dog breeders may not know of Allan Hart’s crucial role in a diagnostic procedure that most of us benefit from today. “He was part of the research and development team for an international company called IDEXX Laboratories. He was one of the key doctors responsible for designing and adapting the QBC hematology analyzer machine for veterinary medicine. Today, it’s used worldwide to do in-house blood count testing on cats and dogs.”

As Laboratory Director of Central Hospital with a staff of 14 outpatient veterinarians, Allan Hart was ideally situated to test and refine this innovative piece of equipment. “Hematology was his hobby,” says James. “Working in his lab here at Central Hospital kind of pulled me into the research.”

Perfecting the equipment was only part of this massive project. He also developed a casebook from analyzer reports that became the basis of support manuals and training programs. “In the mid ‘90s Dr. Hart and I spent a lot of time together traveling throughout the U.S. and abroad teaching veterinarians and technicians the proper way to use the Vet Autoread Hematology Analyzer. We logged thousands of air miles together and became very good friends during those last years of his life.” Allan Hart’s breakthrough work in laboratory medicine is more impressive because of his concurrent battle with cancer during these years. “He also pioneered research on Fibrinogen 2,” says James. Hart’s research on this blood protein established its importance as an inflammatory marker. Thanks to his work, it’s become a valuable diagnostic tool to identify blood clotting abnormalities, systemic infections, cardiovascular disease, and early pregnancy detection. “Allan started that research and it was so important that IDEXX made fibrinogen a feature on the Vet Autoread system.”

Allan Hart lost his eight year battle with cancer May 31, 1999. “He worked right up to his death,” says James. “He was that type of person, always busy, always doing something. I consider him one of greatest veterinarians I have ever known and I have known quite a few. Not a day passes when I don’t think of him.”

In 2000, IDEXX Laboratories established an annual scholarship to commemorate Allan Hart’s contributions. It’s offered annually to senior veterinary students who consistently demonstrate exceptional ability combining diagnostic pathology with practical application during clinical rotations. It’s an apt legacy for an inspired diagnostician. This intuitive sensibility remains the heart of veterinary medicine – and the profession’s most elusive skill.

James is one of those pivotal individuals who saw Central Hospital grow from an experimental venture to a resounding success. “We’ve been here since 1974 and we’ve been going strong since we started.” He is quite aware of the reasons for this. “Having been around the block a few times, I think we have some of the best veterinarians in the world here. Because of the foundation Allan laid, we can be progressive. We now have quite a few specialists and we are taking the next step to become an ER/referral hospital. If Allan was alive, he would applaud us for this. We’re moving soon, to a new location in North Haven, and the mural is definitely coming with us.”

The Mural’s Future

Client Care Coordinator Kathy Cavanaugh C.V.T. has been with Central for 25 years. “In the early part of my career I was privileged to work with Dr. Allan Hart, the artist’s father.” Cavanagh considers the mural an iconic image. “It represents the visionary spirit of collaboration shared by the veterinarians who started this hospital. It is the foundation upon which New Haven Central Hospital was built and continues to grow upon. In November, we are moving into a larger facility in North Haven with plans to expand our services. The mural will occupy a full wall in our new conference space. Because of my sentimental attachment to it, the hospital director, Ken Aldrich, has entrusted me with overseeing its move, a position I am honored to have.”

Whitney and Guide Dogs

America’s fascination with guide dogs was an inseparable part of German Shepherd lore from the beginning. A few were imported from Germany in the 1920s, which led to small, experimental efforts to produce a homegrown version. As a boy, Whitney recalled seeing Fox Terriers trained as guide dogs. After relocating to Orange, his genetic research on behavior and temperament led him to compile a profile of desirable traits for guide dog work.

Temperament testing, per se, didn’t exist back then. It wasn’t a priority until the WWII Dogs for Defense program recruited thousands of dogs for intensive training programs for military work. The erratic results quickly led to rudimentary temperament evaluations. But this was the tip of the iceberg.

Post-war America’s first organized guide dog programs yielded success rates under ten percent. As they scrambled to improve their methods by utilizing more appropriate stock, Whitney proclaimed the generic all-American farm shepherd as the ideal breed for the job, citing its combination of intelligence, tractability, and independence. This suggestion produced scant enthusiasm from the era’s guide dog establishment – which included AKC board members.

However, it was taken to heart by one of the American Guide Dog Association’s founders, Dr. Clarence Pfaffenberger. Best-known for his classic book, The New Knowledge of Dog Behavior, it presented temperament tests Pfaffenberger developed in the late 1940s. Testing definitely improved success rates. According to Pfaffenberger, it also highlighted the fact that testing wasn’t the only crucial consideration. “During the war, I screened thousands of dogs offered for service. Many of the dogs who passed our tests during the screening failed when given actual experience in some field of war work. I became increasingly aware of the inadequacy of our tests…this gave me new appreciation of how well a dog may do one task but may be useless for something which it has inherited no aptitude.”

Pfaffenberger researched countless breeds to find the ideal blend traits for guide dog work, and no one had done more research on genetic aspects of temperament than Leon Whitney. “Dr. Whitney has spent many years working in experimental testing and breeding for one of America’s most honored universities and has contributed impressively to the betterment of dogs….So as much as Fortunate Field contributed to the guide dog movement, and it was a most significant contribution, it would appear that like most great advances in any field, there existed someone who had done some exploration in advance.”

Whitney’s suggestions were treated as heresy back then, but guide dogs are just one type of working dog that has been cross-bred to improve performance. The era’s guide dog establishment wasn’t ready for something that radical in 1946, but even then, it was obvious that selective breeding was the solution.

When Hart took up the cause a decade later, Whitney had plenty of advice to offer – and this time he had a willing listener.

Fidelco

The Fidelco Breeder’s Foundation was created in 1960. Heading this dedicated group was Charles H. Kaman (1919- 2011), an aeronautical engineer, best known for his innovations in helicopter design and inventing of the Ovation guitar. Now based in Bloomfield, Connecticut, Fidelco originally bred working German Shepherds and donated them to police departments and established guide dog programs throughout the country. In 1981, Fidelco began training and placing its own guide dogs. Since then, it has placed over 1,300 German Shepherd guide dogs throughout the U.S. and Canada.

Catch and Release Coon Hunting in Orange

George Whitney lived in Orange since age ten. When Allan and Lance Hart arrived, he introduced them to some of its local pastimes. “Our house bordered the woods and George used to go out at night coon hunting,” Lance says. Coonhounds had been part of Whitney’s White Isle Kennel since 1920 and George grew up hunting with his father. But Lance recalls that his approach to this traditional sport had a new twist. “He would go out about midnight with his dogs. After they treed a raccoon, he would climb the tree and somehow shake it down.”

George later chronicled his coon hunting method in his blog. “First the brush would be cleared where the raccoon would be expected to land.” After climbing the tree, he slowly approached the raccoon, “so that it would be in a position to be out on a limb that could be shaken until it either jumped or fell to the ground,” adding that, “this is done at night with flashlights and the animal lands where you don’t expect.”

Lance and Allan waited, ready “to net the raccoon and shove it into a burlap bag before you got nailed. I can’t remember exactly how we did it, but we did. The raccoon didn’t just lie there when it hit the ground.”

Once captured, the raccoon was transported out of the area, and hopefully chose to set up shop in its new territory.

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, August, 2013 

By Lee Canalizo

This month I’m looking back, not at persons who made up the interesting fiber of our dog show world, but at the way they arrived at the point in their dog lives that made them a household name in the sport.

Back then, we had no social media. Our form of social media was reaching out to the older, already successful breeders and exhibitors in our area. There was no communication amongst every country in the world as there is now. No Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo, Google… NO NOTHIN’!

We had “Ma Bell” and the U.S. Mail. That’s it! Good or bad, I have my own opinion, we were much more insulated. We sought out our elders, brought the cake and they made the coffee, and we sat at their knee for hours listening, learning, watching old Super 8 movies, and looking at pictures of the “great ones”. We also paid homage to these wise ones at the shows and absorbed all that was available to us ringside or, in some cases, at the benching areas. We did NOT know it all after just a short time in the game.

As newcomers, we did not rely on questioning other newcomers with just a bit more experience than we had to determine if we should enter our puppy, bred-by-exhibitor, youngster, owner-handled class dog, etc. We took the bull by the horns and went to any show we could attend. One made their own decisions based on their “experience” under that judge. Sure, we wanted to win, but we were more concerned with the fact that the judge would find the right dog in the class. Would said judge award from the certain classes? And surprisingly, we knew when we should have won, or not!

In those days, (actually not that very long ago), we knew about most of the judges we planned to show under before we entered. It seems outrageous to me that people are now asking for information about judges who are pillars of a certain breed or the rocks that the dog show foundation is built upon. Again, most of what I see is on Facebook, and I am using my primary breed of Afghan Hounds as an example. These are questions and information that should be attended to at the very beginning of a new dog show endeavor. Good preparation is invaluable. Don’t get me wrong… there are some very commendable things this new age of communication has to offer. Many breeds have serious “Groups” where breed experts feel comfortable sharing their experience and I know many of them have added to a better understanding of where, when and how the Standard intended for certain unique traits to be recognized. But some of the things I see on these groups are just short of defamatory! And most of what is said is often far from accurate with most comments coming from those who might not have fared well under that judge on that day.

As far as all of this talk of mentors is concerned, who are all of these “students” of the breeds? In my opinion, these people are not garnering their knowledge from the “old-timers”. Having a close relationship with a foundation kennel that at one time had five living generations of champions on the property at the time (when mentors and kennel visits were “enriching components to a judging application”), I was told this kennel had only one potential applicant schedule a visit in over 30 years.

Not too long ago, I was judging a major entry in my primary breed, Afghan Hounds, in conjunction with a Specialty weekend. A provisional judge was doing the breed the next day. I had a beautiful young bitch in a minor class that, in every respect, was Afghan to the core. Of course, I gave her WB, BOW, and BOB over BIS winning specials! She was everything you could want in the breed and I was delighted to find such a rare jewel on that day. It would be fair to say that anyone in my breed could have predicted that bitch was not going to be unnoticed. And the specialized handler of her was well aware of same! (FYI: The bitch finished quickly with mostly breeder-judges awarding her major wins).

The next day, the lovely young bitch was overlooked. Far different placements were made throughout basically the same entry. My point here is not that the new judge missed her completely, but the fact that Mike Canalizo (my son) was also in attendance at the show weekend on a busman’s holiday (we are members of the host Specialty Club). He was ringside to watch our breed judged each day, accompanied by another pioneering breeder living in the area. Said new Afghan Hound judge did not find it important or enlightening to seek any of us out to discuss, in a friendly fashion, the breed that between us involved over 150 years of experience! I find this pitiful and inexcusable, in my or any other!

Did I mention that this was a “provisional” judge? Do I need to mention that this person didn’t stay to attend the subsequent Specialty? Do I have to mention that the overall comments on their judging performance were mixed? Yet, I heard through various sources this provisional judge was very concerned that there was no AKC Rep there to do an “evaluation” of their assignment. I might not be a “Rep” but I would bet good money that they wouldn’t like to see any breed placed with bright sun behind them where one has to shade their eyes to view the line, (other shaded areas of the ring were readily available); or one’s rather brisk, heavy-handed approach which had dogs that I previously judged with no incident backing away and reacting in a less than “aristocratic” way. In retrospect, this person may have had the dog show gods smiling on her for not having a Rep ringside!

What does all this have to do with my questioning of the virtues of social media? This new-ish judge had all of these advantages of social media at their fingertips… and I know this how? Because I have seen articles by this person pontificating on how one should find, seek, or connect with “mentors” of a breed?

I guess, sooner or later, I will keep up with the Jones’ and get more integrated with social media and the good side of electronic communication. I do see some advantages for the old guard, who may be decreasing their judging appearances, to incorporate this social media into their schedule. Anyone care to “Facetime” with me on some breeds? That might be possible if I figure out how all of that stuff works. But for now: you are welcome to do it the old-fashioned way… come sit with me and chat about a few things that might make one a better judge of the breeds with which I have experience. You know….maybe it’s not a bad thing to “Look Back” once in awhile…we’re still here!

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, August, 2013 

By Amy Fernandez

In 1950 Arthur Frederick Jones profiled the Affenpinscher for the AKC Gazette. He had been there since 1926 and served as editor since 1941. In other words, he had watched the dog business long and hard for most of his life. His article was prompted by an encouraging spike in Affenpinscher registrations after a decade of inactivity. His introduction noted that the breed had been “handicapped by inaccurate publicity” since its arrival in America. We may need to brace ourselves for another round of that. Banana Joe’s historic Westminster win is bound to trigger new interest in this fascinating breed. So, let’s set the record straight right now.

The first Affenpinschers were imported to America in 1935 by Mrs. Bessie Mally of Cicero, Illinois to found her Zwergteufel (Dwarf Devil) kennel. History has preserved scant information about her, especially her motivation to establish this rare German breed in America. She was in her mid-30s, and the Affenpinscher was experiencing an unprecedented resurgence in its homeland. She was undoubtedly committed to the project. Transporting dogs from Germany to America was no walk in the park. They came by steamship to New York and traveled on to Chicago by rail express. She also had excellent connections over there because she acquired top quality stock.

That part of the story is unusual, but it pales in comparison to AKC’s readiness to admit this rare breed to its studbook. But that’s exactly what happened September 15, 1936. At that time, AKC had no established criteria for recognizing new breeds. These decisions pretty much depended on the mood of the board – and who was doing the asking. The Affenpinscher was represented by a single breeding program in this country. But it had supporters within the fancy, and they couldn’t get more high profile than Evalyn Walsh McLean and Henrietta Proctor Donnell Reilly.

Evalyn Walsh McLean contributed only one litter to the Affenpinscher’s future, but she garnered priceless publicity for it. This stunningly beautiful heiress was the era’s ultimate socialite. The paparazzi reported every detail of her life. When she entertained, the guest lists included Hollywood celebrities, Washington power brokers, and European royalty. Her clothes set fashion trends and her dazzling jewelry collection included the 45 carat Hope Diamond. Her canine pack included Poodles, Saint Bernards, Great Danes, Silky Terriers, Chihuahuas, and Brussels Griffons. Affenpinschers were the perfect addition to this exotic mix. And yes, they were photographed posed with the jewels.

Henrietta Proctor Donnell Reilly was internationally recognized as an authority on Toy breeds, and a founding member and first and president of the New York-based Progressive Dog Club. She is best remembered for her contribution to Chihuahuas and Min Pins but she also campaigned English Toy Spaniels, Brussels Griffons, and Poodles. Her Etty Haven in Larchmont, New York exemplified the era’s luxurious show kennels. It generally housed 100 dogs, representing top winners in 10-20 different breeds. Along with Toys she campaigned Whippets, Borzoi, Bedlingtons, Cockers, Bull Terriers, German Shepherds, Miniature Schnauzers, Irish Setters, St. Bernards, Boston Terriers, and Skipperkes. She purchased and campaigned several Zwergteufel Affenpinschers from Mally, and also imported two prominent European winners, Everl von der Franziskusklause and Nolli von Anwander.

These names unquestionably added clout to the Affenpinscher cause, but AKC’s surprising decision seemed justified at that time. Based on the roaring success of other German breeds like Dachshunds and German Shepherds, the Affenpinscher seemed destined for popularity in America. When they began appearing at major AKC shows, Jones notes that the public was captivated. “At the time the rotogravure sections and the newsreels gave wide attention to the ‘monkey dog’ …but no one explained why it was so called.” So far, so good.

In 1937 nine Affenpinschers were registered placing it 86th among AKC’s 105 breeds. It subsequently experienced five encouraging years of growth. Another 14 dogs and 13 bitches were registered. However, Mally was the only active breeder and she registered her last litter in October, 1940. This small group of closely bred dogs represented

the entire American gene pool when WWII prevented additional importation from Germany. AKC didn’t record another Affenpinscher registration for nine years.

The brief public appearance of the “rare monkey terrier” sparked curiosity and exacerbated misperceptions that had surrounded the breed for centuries. In his article, Jones announced his intention to clear away the fog. That must have been welcome news to the loyal fanciers struggling to keep the breed alive. But they were used to smoke and mirrors. Throughout its history, the Affenpinscher had been revived, revamped, rejected, reexamined, redefined, and come close to extinction more than once.

Experts hotly debated its origin for decades. Jones explained its relationship to the Miniature Schnauzer and Min Pin, but even this expert was way out of his league theorizing on this subject. Admitting that “its terrier background cannot be denied,” he speculated that its distinctive standoff coat probably came from the Poodle or Spitz, and the flat face could have only come from “Der Mops.” He was far from the only authority to get the facts completely wrong.

Although pinschers were ubiquitous to Europe, they existed as all purpose farm dogs, well under the radar of official historians. Like other working breeds, numerous variations were developed regionally, known by many names. The most plausible explanation for the name pinscher suggests that it originated as a mispronunciation of Rattenfanger (rat catcher), or Bentchur, a colloquial name for a variety found throughout southern Germany. Both of these names appeared in Johann Wilhelm Baumeister’s 1832 book on native German breeds. Within 20 years, pinscher entered the common lexicon. C.F.H. Weiss’ 1852 German translation of William Youatt’s The Dog described several pinscher breeds, and categorized them as such.

Pinscher became the accepted name for this branch of the canine clan, but no one could reach a consensus regarding their ancestry and origin. The dog world finally got onboard with the scientific determination endorsed by several German and Swiss zoologists such as Ludwig Rutimeyer,( 1825-1895), H.G Reichenbach (1824-1889), and Theodor Studer, (1845-1922).

Their findings were based on a fortuitous ecological event in 1854. The water level in the Swiss Jura suddenly dropped, revealing thousands of well-preserved prehistoric fossils submerged in the peat layers of the mountain lakes. This unprecedented discovery received plenty of media coverage over the next few years as the ancestors of several domestic species were identified in the cache.

Ancient dog relics unearthed at the site were dated from 3000 B.C. More importantly, they provided evidence of the domestication process over the course of two thousand years. The skulls demonstrated a progression from the primitive Stone Age Canis familiaris pallustris into three distinct types including the ancestors of Europe’s Spitz and Pinscher breeds. This prehistoric Torfspitz type was widespread throughout present-day Switzerland, Austria and Germany. Studer’s research was subsequently published in a report entitled Contributions to the History of Our Dog Breeds. It helped to catalyze German efforts to document native breeds in the late nineteenth century and became the basis of their official opinion on Affenpinscher origins. But it didn’t really clarify the relationship between the many pinscher types that existed by then.

Wirehaired Pinschers were first exhibited at a show in Hanover, Germany in 1879. Their appearance prompted an article by R. von Schmiedeber in the July 1879 issue of Der Hund. It addressed the unavoidable question of “what the hell is a pinscher.” This excerpt shows that the pinscher world wasn’t quite ready to provide straightforward answers.

“This question, ‘what is a Pinscher?’ was asked by an English reporter in Hannover, and I answered as well as I could. It would certainly be of great interest that we ourselves should create more and more clarity about the breed that has been included in the show program of Hannover, and an exhaustive answer to this question would be received thankfully. In my humble opinion we can demonstrate a race in our pinscher that is analogous to that of the English terrier. About whether we possess an independent breed of shorthaired pinschers analogous to the so-called Manchester terrier (black and brown markings) or whether the specimens we meet are originally from England, I am still unsure. It does, however appear to be a certainty to me that we cannot deny that the wirehaired pinscher has a highly original and characteristic nature which differs completely from that of all the English terriers and I would almost like to state that we are, in this case, confronted with a specific breed because its characteristics constantly reappear and will not be bastardized in spite of the complete absence of rational breeding.

It would be very desirable that the pinscher breed should be discussed and defined more fully before the next international exhibition so that we may find it represented in greater numbers than was the case in Hannover. There we only found wirehaired pinschers of German breeding but in such a variety of types that the unbiased observer would soon understand how few of the characteristics of this breed really are consistent.”

In 1880, a group of German naturalists, zoologists, and dog experts met in Berlin to lay the groundwork for a unified system of breed designation. They authored early standards for several breeds including Smooth and Wirehaired Pinschers, but that barely scratched the surface. Several smooth and rough coated pinscher breeds were well-established at that time. The country might have become a unified German Empire, but its dog world continued to operate as independent breed clubs in the late nineteenth century. Numerous pinscher and schnauzer breeds, including Affenpinschers, were documented and promoted by small regional clubs throughout the country.

A few years later, the most important figure in pinscher and schnauzer development appeared on the scene to get this mess under control. Josef Berta began his career as a protégé of Max Hartenstein, one of Saxony’s most high profile breeders . His Plavia kennel was internationally known for pinschers, schnauzers, Great Danes, and French Bulldogs. Berta ultimately inherited Hartenstein’s kennel. His schnauzer, Morro, became the source of his kennel prefix, and he continued Hartenstein’s efforts to champion German breeds.

Berta had the foresight to realize that a united effort offered the best hope to save native pinscher breeds. In 1895 he consolidated these groups into one organization, the Pinscher Klub, based in Cologne. Berta served as president of PK until 1921.

In his preface to the first volume of the PK studbook Berta explained his motives for founding the organization. “When the undersigned in the spring of 1895 advocated the foundation of a pinscher club, there were pitifully few dedicated breeders and aficionados of our worthy native dogs. The schnauzer, the foremost representative of the pinscher family, was a cynologic stepchild and endured a lowly existence compared the aristocratic and highly esteemed foreigners. Lack of planning and confusion ruled the ranks; the observer was not yet greeted by uniformity in his breed, there was no tangible type to enthuse the sportsman to spend his experience and fervor on such a hopeless character.”

The Pinscher Klub’s mission statement to “foster the well-being” of all pinscher types was inevitably influenced by prevailing politics and breed popularity. A few of these breeds disappeared during this era including the Large Affenpinscher. This shaggy, rough coated breed was comparable to a Standard Schnauzer, and it was quite popular throughout the 1880s and ‘90s. But reformist breeders considered it an old fashioned, provincial type and this attitude ultimately led to its extinction. Its little brother, the Zwergaffenpinscher, nearly suffered the same fate.

The parameters of Affenpinscher type were quite nebulous at that time. Several small rough and wirecoated pinschers were lumped together as ratters. No clear distinctions existed to separate them when the Pinscher Klub got on the bandwagon to create the Miniature Schnauzer. In his article, Jones notes that “Old illustrations are especially enlightening for they show how this and related breeds have changed in the course of the years.” He specifically mentioned an 1899 picture of a Zwergschnauzer and emphasizes that the difference between these two breeds was indistinct at that time. That’s quite an understatement. A clear separation between Affenpinscher and Miniature Schnauzer wasn’t destined to happen for many years because the same breeders and often the same dogs contributed to both. At one point, the Miniature Schnauzer was christened the Affenschnauzer, and it wasn’t unusual for litters to be dual-registered, as Miniature Schnauzer and Affenpinscher.

Affenpinschers certainly contributed to Miniature Schnauzer development. Unfortunately, its typical domed head, short muzzle and protruding lower jaw were the last things anyone wanted to see in a Schnauzer head. Affenpinscher type became viewed as the undesirable side of the coin, and many breeders were determined to eradicate it through selective breeding. The Affenpinscher still had advocates within the Pinscher Klub, but no one formulated a standard or created guidelines to help breeders define ideal type. Basically, anything that didn’t qualify as a Miniature Schnauzer was labeled as an Affenpinscher by default. This inevitably led to the deterioration of type and quality. The resulting negative impressions about the breed lingered for decades.

Things got worse as emphasis increasingly shifted to Miniature Schnauzer development and this type became generally accepted. Knowledge of correct Affenpinscher type virtually disappeared. In his writings, Berta reveals that it was never his direct intention to eliminate the Affenpinscher in the process of developing the Miniature Schnauzer, but he doubted its survival as a breed.

Breeders and judges were left to improvise their own version of correct Affenpinscher type, which inevitably led to incompetent judging and fads for extreme type. Crossbreeding to Pugs and Brussels Griffons became common, recognizable by shorter, flattened faces and incorrect expression. A 1902 educational brochure jointly published by the Pinscher Klub and Berlin Lapdog Club further contributed to the Affenpinscher’s troubles by dismissing it as “degenerated prototype” and “a shallow breed.”

Needless to say, dedicated breeders became understandably discouraged, even though correct Affenpinscher type had gained some acceptance outside Germany by then. An 1886 account of the Brussels Show in The Field reported that two full classes of Ammfenpinscher or “Monkey Nippers” were shown. Also in 1886, it is reported that “Monkey Terriers” were exhibited at the Royal Aquarium Show in London. They were also entered at Crufts in 1896, the year that the Pinscher Klub was founded.

The Affenpinscher didn’t have much going for it at that point other than its famous willfulness and determination. Regardless of mainstream opinions, this obstinate little creature had no intention of going away. “The nickname seems to go back a long way says Jones and he notes that the breed was designated in the Pinscher Klub’s first studbook as Longhaired Dwarf Terrier (Affenpinscher) Thus the name the breed now carries must have been so widely known in its native country at that time that the keepers of the studbook thought it necessary to identify the new name.” Photographs clearly show that these dogs unmistakably favored Affenpinscher type.

Finally in 1900, at a show in Frankfurt, separate classes were provided for Wirehaired Miniature Pinschers and Affenpinschers. The judge’s report noted the Affenpinscher’s, “pretty, apple-shaped heads, monkey-like expressions, and undershot jaws.” In Volume II of the Pinscher Klub studbook, covering the years 1903-1907, the Affenpinscher was designated as such. This volume listed Affenpinschers in colors of yellow, red, gray, brown, and black. It also documented the breeders and foundation dogs that became the basis of the modern Affenpinscher. These included Mrs. Hermann-Rabausch (Muchen), J. Sacherl (Sahceros). Mrs. Eugenie Mann, Mrs. Schottehamm (Diabolo), Herr Anton Muller, and Countess Schlieben (Ferner).

Two dogs in particular, Zamperl and Flick, became the cornerstone of Affenpinscher development. The Munich-based Ferner bloodline was established in the late 1890s, and it quickly became regarded as the source of modern Affenpinscher type. The kennel’s most outstanding representative, Zamperl, possessed the hard coat, fiery temperament, and roguish expression that breeders dreamed of. He also proved to be a prepotent stud. An unbroken line of important dogs descended from him. His son, Flick, sired Flick Demberger, who sired Peterl V.D. Steinberg who sired, Poldi V. Steinberg. These dogs were instrumental in creating the astounding improvements in Affenpinscher type during this era.

Flick’s owner, Frau Hermann-Raubausch, wife of the Royal Court pianist, staunchly promoted correct Affenpinscher type throughout this dismal period in its history. Born January 7, 1902, Flick was a living reminder of genuine Affenpinscher type as it was rapidly disappearing from the show ring. His career was profiled in the German publication Sports-World. “In the beauty of Flick are all the advantages of the Affenpinscher combined.” Volume III of the PK studbook (1908-1910) listed 18 Affenpinschers, ten bred in Munich, and four in Saxony. The breed wasn’t gaining many followers and most Affenpinscher breeding remained based in Munich. But these registrations confirm that many colors were perpetuated at that time, black, red-yellow, yellow, black-gray, red and black, grayish-black with yellow spots, gray, and red.

Volume IV (1911-1913) showed encouraging progress with 44 Affenpinscher registrations. Once again, Munich breeders led the pack, but breeding programs were established in other parts of Germany, Saxony, Hesse, Baden-Württemberg, Renania and from Munich.Volume V (1914-1917) published during WWI, showed a substantial drop in registrations, only 17 Affenpinschers were recorded but breeders remained active throughout Germany. This was lucky because two Frankfurt breeders kept important bloodlines going and insured the Affenpinscher’s survival during these years.

The most important development during the war years was the Pinscher Klub merger with its former rival, the Beyerischer Schnauzer Klub based in Munich. It had been founded in 1901 and published three volumes of its own studbook. The merger created the Pinscher-Schnauzer Klub (PSK) and it has jointly published a studbook since 1924. After the war, Affenpinscher breeding resumed and several important bloodlines emerged in the following decade.

Eventually Berta reevaluated the wisdom of his hands-off policy. Although it worked out well for the Miniature Schnauzer, he realized that he better use his clout to promote traditional Affenpinscher type before it disappeared completely. Volume I of the PSK (Pinscher-Schnauzer Klub) studbook also contained a description of Affenpinscher characteristics and a clarification of guidelines for breeders compiled with the cooperation of breeders who had successfully perpetuated the “old type.”

This included a detailed description of the teeth and correct shortening and angle of the lower jaw. This had been recognized a crucial Affenpinscher trait but had been subject to massive misinterpretation. The clarification stressed that Affenpinscher expression was achieved through a combination of a protruding lower jaw, and the correct amount of space between the reverse scissors bite which was estimated as “the size of a match”, approximately 1/6 up to 1/8 of an inch. It clearly stated that Griffon or Pug expression was incorrect.

When these detailed guidelines were published, breeders rapidly stabilized the type that we are familiar with today. This further encouraged new interest and new kennels emerged. These included V Landeshutia kennel owned by Geourge Nussbaumer and Amuhle kennel owned by Herr Willibald Umuller; this added up much needed additions to the Affenpinshcer gene pool. The 1923 PSK studbook recorded an astounding 260 Affenpinscher registrations.

By then, breeders were distributed throughout Germany, but Munich remained the country’s Affenpinscher stronghold, and these breeders favored black Affenpinschers. Over the next 20 years, the percentage of black dogs escalated from 40 percent to 90 percent, until the popularity of the black Affenpinschers completely overwhelmed all other colors.

Otherwise, the breed was in relatively good shape until the onset of WWII. The Affenpinscher never really recovered from this setback. Registrations fluctuated from 10 in 1945 to 43 in 1956, and back down to 36 in 1969. The standard was updated in 1956, but this did nothing to correct problems that had crept into the breed by then. Before East and West Germany were reunited in 1989, experimental crossbreedings to Schnauzers were done to prevent the breed from completely dying out in its homeland.

On a more positive note, there were renewed efforts to establish the Affenpinscher in America after the war. Stock imported from Germany came primarily from the same bloodlines that had seeded Bessie Mally’s now extinct Zwergteugel kennel – Anna Katzbicher (Franziskusklause), Josi Greimel (Von Walteufel), and Sixtus Anwander. In 1950, Evelyn Brody established Cedarlawn kennel. One of her imports, Bud Anwander, became the breed’s first AKC champion, and made history in 1949 as the first Affenpinscher to earn a group placement. Mrs. Walter Kauffman and her daughters also established Walhof kennel in New Jersey during this period. They imported an additional six dogs to expand the gene pool and produced notable winners of the era like Ch. Walhof Ivy.  Arthur and Mary Harrington founded Aiff-Airn kennel in Albany, New York with Cedarlawn stock. These three kennels became the foundation to reestablish American Affenpinscher bloodlines.

Although it was never destined to attain the popularity of some German breeds, the Affenpinscher definitely caught the 1950s wave of interest in purebreds. In 1951, Lucille Meystedt founded Balu Affenpinschers in Rusk, Texas. She was approved to judge most Toy breeds and actively involved with Brussels Griffons, Miniature Pinschers, Pekingese, Italian Greyhounds, and Papillons, and went on to produce 35 homebred Affenpinscher champions. Her most famous dog, Int’l., German, American, Mexican, Canadian, Columbian Ch. Vinzenz V. Greifensse attracted countless new fans to the breed during his extensive show campaign. Meystedt also founded the Affenpinscher Club of America, and was the breed columnist for Popular Dogs for many years.

The Affenpinscher was clearly making progress in 1950 when Jones penned his breed profile. He happily announced that nine registrations had been recorded by AKC that year. He was also keenly aware that misperceptions had derailed the breed more than once. In his article, he stated his hope that Affenpinscher fanciers would dispel longstanding myths surrounding its image as the exotic “monkey terrier.” He advised them to discourage photographers from “only making head studies,” and instead emphasize overall type when educating the public about the breed. “If more people realized how sturdily it is built, more of them would be anxious to own Affenpinschers.”

That is very sound advice, but it’s obvious that the breed’s captivating personality had clinched the deal for him. “Anyone who has ever owned an Affenpinscher speaks in lyrical terms of his intelligence.” Jones was fascinated with its characteristic devilish temperament saying, “The Affenpinscher is only a little fellow but he has so much spirit and courage that he seems like a much larger dog…. he will brook no interference from outsiders and those he feels will violate the peace of his fireside.”

Interest in the breed spiked in the 1950s but it was hardly an easy rise to the top. It definitely suffered from a lack of organized effort to promote the breed and encourage new fanciers. Finally, 30 years after its arrival, the Affenpinscher Club of America was founded in 1965 – largely through the efforts of Lucille Meystedt. Like every other aspect of Affenpinscher history, the club grew slowly. In September, 1976 they held a match show which proved to be a turning point. On May 17, 1986, 21 years after its founding meeting, the AFA held its first AKC approved specialty in conjunction with the Mattiponi Kennel Club. An entry of 39 Affenpinschers turned out for this historic event.

Jones ended his profile by expressing his hope, “that this little mite would someday become the Toy of America.” Arthur Frederick Jones is long gone, but I suspect that he watched and smiled on February 13th when Banana Joe broke through the purebred dog world’s glass ceiling to seize the ultimate prize. Judge Michael Dougherty admitted that Joey demanded the win and he could not be denied, once again proving a point that Affenpinscher lovers have understood for centuries.

AKC Registration Records

AKC registrations demonstrate the  Affenpinscher’s slow, steady growth after 1950.

1950-1954  –  37 registrations

1954-1959  –  107 registrations

1960-1969  –  225 registrations

1970-1979  –  293 registrations

1980-1989  –  554 registrations

In 2002 the breed ranked 117th in terms of AKC registrations. By 2007, it had dropped to 125th, and by 2011 it was in 139th place. Last year it moved up a notch to 138th.

Kennel Clubs Replace Private Studbooks

Historically, breeding and documenting purebreds was the private domain of aristocratic families. Many of these studbooks abruptly ended as these ancient families disappeared in the wake of revolutions that swept through Europe in the nineteenth century. The task of maintaining studbook records was transferred to newly founded national kennel clubs. In some cases, this was a little more complicated.

Germany, per se, didn’t exist until a very recent point in the evolution of most of its native breeds. Before Otto von Bismarck (1815-1898) united them as Chancellor of the German Reich, Germany consisted of a conglomeration of independent states, duchies, and principalities. Each had its own unique regional dialects, customs, and dog breeds.

During Bismarck’s tenure as Prime Minister of Prussia, warfare resulted in the annexation Bavaria, Württemberg Baden, and Hesse which became part of the North German Alliance. Established in 1866, it eventually included 17 North German states and became the foundation of the German Empire which emerged in 1870. Unification quickly made Germany the dominant player in Northern Europe’s industrial revolution. Its sizable economic, political, and cultural influence also had a major impact on the nineteenth-century’s evolving dog world.

By Amy Fernandez

Averell Harriman faced many tests and triumphs during his long, varied career. Surprisingly, he considered a 1936 retriever field trial one of his most challenging ordeals. At AKC’s request, it was held at his posh Sands Point estate on Long Island’s gold coast. The Great Gatsby perfectly portrayed its aristocratic cachet during that era. The trial was organized by Harriman’s brother-in-law, Charley Lawrence, and his friends Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Field, which indicates the exclusive nature of the 1930s retriever world.

According to Bob Bartos, “Harriman had some of the greatest Labradors. His Arden dogs were bred from the best English stock and they became the first important competitive winners.” Bartos is best-known as the elder statesman of Scottish Terriers who handled the legendary Ch. Bardene Bingo to Best In Show at Westminster Kennel Club in 1969. But he was also deeply involved in the unforgettable era that brought together the dogs, breeders, and owners responsible for launching retriever field trials and introducing two of America’s most popular breeds, Labrador and Golden Retrievers. Bartos considers himself very fortunate to have owned two truly great dogs at that time. “Bingo’s buddy was a great yellow Labrador. He was my personal shooting dog. He and Bingo were the best of pals.”

Harriman’s Arden Kennel was the source of much of this country’s finest foundation stock including the first Labrador field trial champions. But on that fateful day in 1936 he had never actually attended a trial. In keeping with British tradition, his dogs were trained and handled by Tom Briggs and James Cowie, British experts he had imported as game stewards and kennel managers. Many of Harriman’s fellow club members considered Briggs primarily responsible for Arden’s success, and they didn’t like it.

So, for this particular trial they created the Amateur Open Class and Harriman was informed that he would be required to handle his own dogs. Then in the midst of his political career in Washington, Harriman’s preparation consisted of arriving a day early to meet his dogs. Last minute practice couldn’t compensate for his absolute lack of experience, especially since the Arden retrievers were trained to respond to Briggs’s unique whistle, which Harriman had no hope of duplicating. They agreed that the situation was hopeless. Their only recourse was to rely on the Labrador’s natural ability, exactly what Lawrence and Marshall intended when they cooked up the challenge. Briggs’s last ditch advice to Harriman was to send the dogs downwind of the bird giving them the best chance of picking up the scent.

As expected, two Arden contenders were quickly eliminated, but Blind of Arden defended his family’s honor in high grass and water. He was one of three finalists when the judges called for a rerun. The others failed miserably trying to locate the shot bird. Finally, Harriman was told to send Blind after it.

The judge, Marshall Field, pointed towards the general vicinity, an old tree about 100 yards out in high broomgrass. Admitting that he was cold, tired, and didn’t care who won by then, Harriman sent Blind downwind, far left of the tree. He watched, horrified as the dog confidently trotted past the tree and kept going. Unable to whistle, he was helpless to signal and get him back on track. So, he braced himself to watch the humiliating ordeal play out. Within minutes, Blind was heading back, presumably without the pheasant, the only possibility that could intensify this personal and public disaster. But when he got closer everyone saw the bird in his mouth. Unlike the other finalists, his natural skill wasn’t compromised by misguided handling.

Blind won the trial, but Harriman always insisted that his real satisfaction came from Marshall Field’s grudging admission that he truly was a great dog. “The true Labrador is the most complete dog of all breeds,” says Bartos. “You can specialize a Labrador but he is a scent dog, a retriever, a great family dog. You name it, he can do it.” By the 1930s, the versatile Lab had been highly specialized. Luckily for Harriman, it had not lost touch with its working dog roots.

Harriman knew quality, played to win, and possessed the financial resources to kick out the jams. For members of his elite social class, shooting and sport hunting were revered pastimes. Harriman hunted grouse at Arden and Sun Valley, two of his personal estates, and he never missed the British shooting season. This is where he first glimpsed Labradors in action. He was awestruck.

“The landed gentry found out that dumb Americans would spend thousands to come over for the privilege of shooting a bunch of birds!” says Bartos, “It became a great sport, which it still is.” But he emphasizes that this fun “probably cost the equivalent of $20,000 back then.” The British shooting season became the source of immeasurable social conventions, and it’s easy to overlook that fact that they were based in practicality.

Grouse season ran from August 12 to the end of November, overlapping the September to January partridge season, and the October to January pheasant season. By Victorian times, an invitation for a weekend of shooting was the ultimate status symbol. The allure of British shooting holidays inevitably trickled across the pond. For landowners, tourists became a lucrative source of income.

Shooting parties were a far cry from anything familiar to American hunters, then or now. Most popular was the driven or battue hunt. A line of beaters flushed birds out of the brush followed by the shooters, each one accompanied by a ghillie ready to unload and reload his shotguns. “Even if you paid, if you were a bad shot and didn’t knock your birds down you weren’t invited back because you lost the bird harvest for the landowner. You only got the pleasure of shooting. You did not get to keep the birds.”

This highly controlled pleasure shooting also featured extravagance in every sense of the word, sumptuous dinners, cocktail parties, fabulous clothes, and breathtaking dogs and horses. Money was no object for this crowd, and it spawned a host of luxury businesses. For instance, “Purdey and Scott, the greatest double barrel shotguns in the world could cost anywhere from $30 to $100 thousand dollars,” says Bartos.

According to canine historian Brian Vesey- Fitzgerald, well mannered retrieving dogs also became an essential feature of a well-managed country shoot. “On many partridge manors in England, as on moors in Scotland, and almost everywhere after the opening days of the season, driving has become the rule. And as for pheasant shooting, what was wanted in a day’s shooting was a dog who could be trusted not so much to pick up birds that had fallen dead in the open but to find birds that had dropped in thick cover or had run out of sight. The retriever became of primary importance.”

British field trial winners routinely fetched big prices in America. By the 1920s, the market for expensive setters and pointers was eclipsed by Britain’s most innovative gundog, the retriever. General Hutchinson’s 1847 blockbuster training book Dog Breaking was one of the earliest authoritative references promoting them. “A regular retriever that can be worked in perfect silence, never refusing to come in when he is merely signaled to or softly whistled to when he is out of sight. “

Bartos explains that Labradors didn’t need an app to master this skill. “It was a water dog, a fish retriever.” However, its function was revised in Britain. “The English used him on land like a pointer or breaking dog, and developed him as a nonslip retriever to sit at heel and go out on command.” Retrievers evolved with Britain’s changing hunting trends, and by 1912 dogs that ranged in front of the guns to find game were officially out style according to Sir Hugo Fitzherbert, gundog columnist for The Kennel. “Modern conditions are antagonistic to both pointers and setters, and it is with the various retrievers that the modern shooting man is chiefly concerned.”

Traditionally, gundog training was one of the many varied jobs performed by gamekeepers on British estates. Curlies and Flatcoats were the original gamekeepers dogs, and Sir Hugo Fitzherbert sadly confirmed their dying popularity, “The Curly Coated Retriever who was generally considered to be the sturdiest and best of his kind, has been conspicuously absent since the field trial era.” By 1912,  field trial training had become a gamekeeper’s specialty. “In the early days of trials in 1890, it was rare not to see all retrievers on lead and only slipped when required. The general behavior is now much improved – an improvement which Trials have done much to bring about.” The competitive edge of a top trainer was undeniable. It was also a clear breach of Britain’s class system, a fact that Fitzherbert bluntly criticized in his column, noting that a dog boy was once the lowest rank of gamekeeper “but if the dog boy blossoms out into a dog breaker then he at once rises to a level of the head keeper without going through the intermediate drudgery. He also receives high or higher pay than the head man.” These were only a couple of the unsettling trends that had been unleashed by the growing popularity of retriever field trials.

At the annual Kennel Club dinner that year, Lord Lonsdale monopolized the evening with a lengthy speech decrying the changes overtaking Britain’s retriever world, especially “this craze for unnaturally educated dogs that mark the fall of a bird, await their handler’s directions, and gallop wildly to retrieve it.” Worse yet, was the pervasive practice of owners relying on gamekeepers or breakers rather than training their own dogs “What pleasure can there be in going out shooting with a dog that has been broken by someone else, and is wholly out of touch with you?”

In fact, this was customary long before the advent of retrievers. Although gundog owners earned acclaim authoring books on the subject, most had no practical experience.  A widely reprinted 1886 quote from Sir Ralph Payne summed up the reality. “It is no hard thing to own a fairly good retriever, but to own a perfect one is another story. …a perfect retriever is rarely seen working for his master; usually it is for a keeper, and it may pretty safely be asserted that in the British Isles there are not a score of perfectly broken retrievers that work only for and with their masters out shooting. “The horse was already out of the barn by 1912. To the dismay of purists like Fitzherbert, top retriever trainers were fast tracked into the field trial game. “It is for that reason there has arisen a class of field trial breakers who may have been gamekeepers, but are not so now, and it is to these men that most of the field trial victories fall.”

He went on to admit that by 1911, “Labradors were streets ahead in popular estimation, both for field trials and ordinary work. And there seems to be every indication that they will retain their position.” Despite their growing popularity, Labradors remained tightly controlled by a few aristocratic breeders. They were not easy to come by without insider contacts.

The outstanding record of Harriman’s Arden kennel must be considered within the context of American Labrador development. And Bartos emphasizes that Harriman knew the right people. “It started mostly big money people from New York and Wall Street, and Harriman practically owned all of Arden, New York.” Harriman founded his breeding program with Peggy of Shipton, imported in the late 1920s as a personal shooting dog. Within a few years of Peg’s arrival, several members of Harriman’s social circle also leveraged their social connections to acquired top notch imports. It wasn’t mere luck that Peg produced knockouts in every litter, including Blind of Arden and his sister Decoy, the breed’s first AKC FC champions. These priceless, handpicked dogs formed the foundation of American Labrador Retriever bloodlines.

For instance, Caumsett, founded by Marshall Field and his wife, the Scottish-bred Mrs. Dudley Coates, brought over British FC Odds On, the sire of Decoy and Blind. In 1937, Decoy was bred to Ch. Raffles of Earlsmoor to produce the acclaimed Ch. Earlsmoor Moor of Arden, winner of 12 groups and five BIS.

Dr. Samuel Milbank was primarily known for his Earlsmoor terriers and his role in the Westminster Kennel Club. He was also a longtime Chesapeake fan until Dr. James Wilson, breeder of Solwyn Labradors in Irving Scotland, talked him into trying a Labrador. Wilson personally selected a dog that needed no introduction. The superbly bred Raffles was an excellent worker and a phenomenal producer. He set the quality bar very high for early Labrador imports.

Peg was also bred to St Mary’s Duke, also from Wilson’s Solwyn Kennel. Whelped in 1933, Ben did impressive winning in Britain by age two when David Wagstaff purchased him for shooting in Scotland and France. In 1937 Wagstaff brought him over for his Ledgerlands Kennels in Tuxedo Park where he confirmed his quality in both bench and field competition.

In 1935, the DuPonts imported Ch. Towyriver James for their Delaware-based Squirrel Run Kennel. Grandson of the legendary Ch. Banchory Bolo, by age two, he was an English champion and became a multiple group winner over here.

This was a stark contrast to the long distance negotiations, shady middlemen, and inferior quality stock that American breeders routinely confronted when attempting to establish new breeds. Money talks, but Bartos makes a point we all know. “Plenty of people spend millions and never come up with one good dog.”

East Coast society’s sudden fascination with Labradors was part of a hot trend, recreating British shooting holidays at home. The most lavish shoots took place in Chester, NY at Robert Goelet’s 8000 acre Glenmere estate. Industrialist and heir to an immense real estate fortune, Goelet ranked among the top ten wealthiest Americans. The media avidly tracked his every move, as married, divorced, hosted fantastic social events, and built palatial homes. His country retreat to hunt, fish, race horses, and entertain friends translated into a 35-room mansion, overlooking Glenmere Lake, built in 1911.

Along with the usual ostentatious display of cars, clothes, and celebrities, five day weekends at Glenmere offered the complete Scottish shooting experience – devoid of actual American hunting conditions. It wasn’t easy, but tower shoots, walk ups, and pass shooting were staged and orchestrated on cue. Many of these ideas, like thrown birds, later featured in early field trials and the first AKC retriever field trial was held at Glenmere.

For most of these weekends, Arden furnished the trained Labradors to retrieve the birds. Proficient retrievers simply added more social bling to these occasions, but even then it was obvious that deluxe dogs were useless without expert management. Bartos explains that this was handled by importing the training and breeding expertise part and parcel with the dogs.“Landowners always had real Scotch and English dog men on their estates. They were experts in breeding and raising game, livestock, and horses. That was their business. And the gamekeepers were also brought over by our so-called elite.” East Coast sporting clubs pulled out the stops to scout the top talent in gamekeepers and lure them over with irresistible deals.

One of Harriman’s first projects after graduating from Yale in 1913 was to hire the Scottish gamekeepers Tom Briggs and his son Jasper for his enormous estate. Like most gamekeepers, they had generations of experience in this business and there wasn’t much about game birds, shotguns, or dog training they didn’t know.

But America is not Britain. In 1905 the Scottish-bred, American dog expert Watson predicted that Americans would have much interest in retrievers because English-style shooting would never catch on over here. He was partly correct. Efforts to recreate it were doomed from the start. Eastern upland game birds were a far cry from docile, domestically-bred pheasants. “That’s why the British gun is a lighter weight than the American shotgun,” says Bartos. “It’s got a straight grip rather than a pistol grip because they shot a lighter load.”

Rugged American hunting conditions required far more adaptability in a good retriever. Of course, Labradors were prized for toughness and versatility long before they became specialized in England.

In 1928, an AKC Gazette feature called the Labrador England’s most popular Retriever for shooting. Ironically, AKC had registered only 23 Retrievers in 1927. “Even though they had been in Great Britain for more than a hundred years, the average person didn’t know what the hell a Labrador was until the late 1920s” says Bartos. “They were always kept on those big estates and only known to landowners and gamekeepers. And all the land was owned by about 12 families. People like Harriman, Carlisle, and Marshall Field didn’t find out about them until they started selling shooting rights. ”

In 1840, Blaine’s Encyclopedia of Rural Sports dates the Labrador’s arrival in England at 1835. “These dogs were to be procured at Poole, where they seem to have been brought as ship’s dogs on boats with cargoes of salted cod.” “Fisherman came from all over the world for the rich cod banks off Newfoundland,” says Bartos. “A lot of the British came from Devon and Poole. They were the only ones to establish settlements and we believe that these settlers developed the breed. I’m sure there were no pheasants in Labrador in those days. Cod are big, deep water fish that were handlined from a skiff or a dory. If they came off the hook and floated away you lost a 20-30 pound fish, worth a lot of money. Consequently, most fishermen had small, short coated St. John’s dogs. Basically, the Lab was a stocky flotation dog with the short clubby rudder tail like a propeller. They worked out of dorries to retrieve fish and they worked on command. You don’t want the dog going in the water more than he needs to.”

The catch was salted, packed in barrels, and shipped back to England. “Evidently, when they docked at Devon or Poole, some of the landed gentry noticed these dogs retrieving and staying at heel. So they bought them and took them to their estates for shooting.” The first to make this discovery was Lord Malmesbury who did his shooting at Hurn Court in Dorset, four miles from the dockyards at Poole. Most historical sources, including Brian Vesey Fitzgerald, agree that Malmesbury turned his friends on to the breed. “Other kennels followed Lord Malmesbury, first the Duke of Buccleugh then the Earl of Home Sir R. Graham, and the Earl of Verulam.” Malmsbury’s hunting buddies soon began raising Labradors on their estates. These kennels became the basis for Britain’s Labrador foundation bloodlines. And dogs like Malmsbury’s Tramp are acknowledged as the root of field trial stock. Early Labradors were frequently crossed with pointers or setters to increase birdiness. However, by the 1870s, breeders maintained private studbooks documenting purebred lineage.

Most historians, including Edward Ash, credit Lord Knutson, better known as Holland Hibbert, for taking the Labrador public. “They had been used for retrieving by a few noble families ever since the first specimens were brought over soon after 1830. Labradors were practically unknown to the wider public until the Hon. A. Holland Hibbert began to send some Munden dogs to shows.” Hibbert founded his kennel at Munden in 1884 with dogs acquired via his aristocratic connections. By aggressively promoting the breed, he also introduced it to fanciers outside of this insulated group.

He began showing his stock in combined retriever classes with Flatcoats and Curlies. When the Kennel Club granted CCs to Labradors in 1903, Munden Single became the first CC winner. A year later, she was also the first Labrador to run in a field trial, when Flatcoats dominated the sport. Single lived to age 20, and thanks to Munden’s donation she can be seen today on display at Tring Natural History Museum in North London. Hibbert also authored The Scientific Education of the Dog for the Gun which outlined methods that remain valid today like the importance of early training. He bred actively until his death in 1935 and his 50 year breeding program reflected the pivotal events in Labrador development – especially the profound impact of training.

British field trials commenced in 1899. In 1904, Munden’s Single was viewed as an unwelcome intruder, but the 11 meetings held in 1911 pulled an entry of 201 Retrievers – 0 Curlies, 98 Flatcoats, and 103 Labradors. The big money prizes at these events were divvied up between 42 Labradors and 8 Flatcoats.

Two years after Munden Single crashed the party, Major Maurice Portal’s Flapper settled the issue of Labradors at field trials. Flapper was Whelped in 1902. Writing in Sporting Dogs, Croxton Smith described Flapper as a big powerhouse of a dog, tireless, quick, and amazingly smart. “In 1906 Major Maurice Portal’s redoubtable Flapper announced that a new force had really arrived. Until then, the winners had been uniformly Flatcoats. By 1907 he had become a field trial champion.”

In The Practical Dog Book, Edward Ash emphasized that “no one realized until he appeared that in the Labrador there was a serious competitor to the previous all conquering Flatcoated Retriever. Before many years Labradors outnumbered all others at field trials and shows.”

A recognized authority on Labrador breeding and training, Major Portal authored The Gundog at Home and Abroad. Flapper was a prepotent sire, also used on Flatcoat bitches with good results. He was also impressively prolific, leaving a legacy of 800 puppies when he died in 1914. It became a popular strategy to cross Flapper offspring with pups from the era’s other superstar, Peter of Faskally, whelped in 1909, out of Munden breeding.

As a sire, Peter of Faskally was worth his weight in gold. But his most lasting contribution was repeatedly validating his owner’s pioneering training methods throughout his phenomenal career. In 1909, Captain Archibald Butter handled Peter to top spot in the International Gundog League Championship using training and handling techniques he had adapted from sheepdog trials. Vesey- Fitzgerald witnessed one of the notable wins that set the retriever world into a tailspin. “Archie Butter was the greatest handler of Labradors to a whistle. He could blow different notes with his fingers in his mouth to say stop, go right, start casting for game. In the most interesting trial in Scotland, he won by sending his dog downhill over two stone walls about 150 yards for a pheasant. We all know more or less where it fell but Archie found the bird by directing his dog from the hilltop far away.”

At first, Butter’s signaling and whistling was dismissed as a silly fad. By 1912, it prompted Lord Lonsdale’s lengthy diatribe denouncing unnaturally educated dogs to guests at the Kennel Club dinner. “Even Faskally Peter, the recent championship winner, although far superior to the other competitors, falls into this marking business. I saw him twice in the collection of his game gallop far beyond his bird, which he only winded by chance on his eventual return journey!”

Publicly criticizing dogs by name was rather tasteless, but it certainly indicates the strong feelings aroused by the revolutionary changes overtaking the retriever world. In part, this outrage was prompted by the crumbling class barriers precipitated by the field trial game. It was also motivated by valid concerns about preserving Labrador breed type and natural hunting instinct. Good or bad, Peter of Faskally heralded the new wave of field trial Labradors and Butter’s method was here to stay.

Watch for Part 2 of Retriever Field Trials in the February, 2013 issue of The Canine Chronicle.

AVERELL HARRIMAN  

At age 17, Averell Harriman became the fourth richest man in America when he inherited the bulk of  his father’s estate in 1909. His father, railroad baron E. H. Harriman had started the Union Pacific Railroad. His controversial rise to power and wealth led President Theodore Roosevelt to dub him a “malefactor of great wealth.”

Harriman spent his childhood in unimagined luxury at  Arden House, a 75-room château on the 25,000 acre Harriman estate 50 miles north of Manhattan, now the 10,000 acre Harriman State Park.  Growing up in his father’s shadow fueled Harriman’s desire to overcome his reputation and measure up to his success. He made fortunes in shipping, mining, and banking.

In addition to Arden Kennel, his side projects included Log Cabin Stables founded in 1923 in partnership with Bert Walker, grandfather of George Bush who was then his employee at Brown Brothers. Three years later, they purchased 20 horses from the estate of August Belmont Jr. including Chance Play, a Man O’ War half brother and the 1926 Horse of the Year.

He also built America’s first ski resort, Sun Valley, at his father’s Idaho ranch. “Harriman was a very good friend of my boss Ted Bennett,” says Bartos. The Bennett family had one of the country’s biggest iron ore deposits, and Harriman personally invited him to visit his new luxury resort. “Ted went out the first year it opened. That’s when skiing was just getting big in this country .And he hit the only damn tree there and broke his leg,”  Bartos laughs recalling that notable day. “The Bennett family was very shy of publicity so they arranged to take him out in Harriman’s private car at 11:00 that night.”

Harriman was equally famed for his eclectic personal life and marriages to Kitty Lanier Lawrence, Marie Norton Whitney (the former wife of Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney) and Pamela Harriman, Churchill’s former daughter-in-law.

However, he is best remembered for his varied foreign and domestic political career.  His positions included Ambassador to the Soviet Union and Ambassador to Britain, and diplomatic assignments in the Roosevelt, Kennedy and Johnson administrations, Assistant Secretary of State, 48th Governor of New York, and Secretary of Commerce under Truman. He also made unsuccessful bids for president in 1952 and 1956. He remained a powerful presence in international policy and Democratic politics until his death, at age 94, in 1986.

LEGAL AND SOCIAL FACTORS THAT INFLUENCED RETRIEVER DEVELOPMENT IN BRITAIN

England’s water dogs were phased out when hunting lands were gradually converted into farmland in the late seventeenth century. Before that, many English landholders routinely hunted waterfoul to supplement their income during winter when flocks migrated from Scandinavia. “Near the northern coast there are numbers who support their families by this industry.” (Taplin)  Enclosure acts privatized thousands of acres of public land. Wetlands were drained and woodlands deforested for farms and industrial parks. And waterdogs became obsolete.

During this era, selling game was legalized. Wild game was a traditional British delicacy, but only modest amounts were available for resale, often illegally. Anyone unqualified to kill game, because they did not own or lease substantial estates, faced heavy penalties. After the passage of the 1831 law, landowners were empowered to “deputize” shooters via certification, similar to the process of obtaining a weekend hunting license. Consequently, shooting invitations became a valuable social and financial commodity. And stocking and breeding game birds for resale became a large scale systematic enterprise for perpetually cash strapped British landowners. It was labor intensive and costly, but the resulting revenue and political leverage made it worthwhile.

Massive kills from big shooting parties  were unbelievable – and common. “Walter Gilbey’s shooting party killed 2,472 head of game last week.” (The Canine World, Nov. 1905) True sport hunters regularly condemned this trend,  “As to the huge bags and attempts to break a neighbor’s records, this is a passing vulgarity which has nothing of sportsmanship in it, and of which we shall hear less, we hope, every year.” (The Field, 1910) Unfortunately, it was here to stay.

On August 12, when Grouse became “legal eating” London papers announced the daily results of lords and gentlemen shooting in Scotland and Yorkshire, and shoppers anxiously awaited the arrival of this prized delicacy on the evening express train. Gamekeepers began shifting their animal husbandry skills to breeding game birds. Between 1830 and 1910, domestically bred pheasants doubled in weight, sometimes exceeding six pounds.

KING GEORGE

Labradors got another boost in 1916 when King George V made his first appearance as an exhibitor at Crufts showing Wolferton Jet. Sandringham kennels exhibited at a number of shows. Describing this exciting event in his 1938 book Sporting Dogs, Croxton Smith emphasized that “ it must be understood that King George’s Labradors were kept primarily for being shot over. “

GUNDOG TRAINING

Despite the layers of social conventions and hype,  British sport hunters were clueless about dog training. Aristocrats simply didn’t possess the time or the desire to train their own dogs. This traditional gamekeeper’s job had evolved into the expert job of  dog breaker long before Lord Lonsdale criticized the practice in 1912.

England’s most celebrated dog breaker, Daniel Lambert, legitimized this professional specialty long before retrievers became the gundog of choice. After his death, Lambert’s personal kennel was auctioned at headline prices. At that time, 200 pounds was equivalent to $2500, and that’s would be equal to about $61,000 today.

THE FIRST AKC LABRADOR

The first Labrador AKC registered in 1917, Brocklehirst Nell, derived primarily from Munden breeding. Her offspring were used to establish Robert Goelet’s kennel.

RETRIEVER REGISTRATION STATISTICS

In 1926, AKC had just begun registering Golden Retrievers, Labradors had been registered for less than a decade, and all retriever breeds were still lumped together in the AKC studbook.

That year, the Kennel Club registered 71 Curlies, 371 Flatcoats, 400 Goldens, 16 interbreds, 35 Crossbreds, and 1247 Labradors.

]]> https://caninechronicle.com/current-articles/retriever-field-trials-the-early-days/feed/ 0 https://caninechronicle.com/current-articles/looking-back-with-lee-remembering-shirley-thomas/ https://caninechronicle.com/current-articles/looking-back-with-lee-remembering-shirley-thomas/#comments Sat, 08 Aug 2020 12:33:16 +0000 subschron http://caninechronicle.com/?p=22142 From The Canine Chronicle,  May, 2013 Archives

By Lee Canalizo

When news of the passing of Shirley Thomas reached me, my immediate thought was I had to write a little something about a friend I knew forever! But as quick as I could get my thoughts forming, I saw a very nice retrospective on her in an online article…one very near and dear to this very publication (caninechronicle.com to be exact) Yes, another writer got the scoop on me in our mutual Canine Chronicle affiliation…but there is a distinct following to each medium and room for both perspectives.

So I decided to move forward with a look back to Shirley and, in the process, another great dog personality kept coming to mind via our common associations. So this article will feature Shirley and Jimmy Trullinger as well.

Both Shirley and Jimmy predate my entry in the sport of purebred dogs. Jimmy was known to have judged his first dog show as a very young man in 1929; and that means I wasn’t even born yet! Shirley may have been around then, but we ladies never discussed that sort of thing! Both Shirley and Jimmy had major relationships with the Pug breed. Both wrote excellent books many years apart. Both would call Queens, NY home for most of their years. Jimmy was in Forrest Hills, Shirley in Flushing and I was born in Rosedale, all locales within miles of one another. Shirley and I had shared memberships in some of the local kennel clubs. She would dedicate a serious amount of time to her clubs…if the truth be told, she made a career out of it. And if one chose to become so ingrained, it would be no surprise that she was a very firm (some would say strong) leader of these many clubs.

We both had hard working husbands that gave their time to our club functions when they could. The guys (Jim and Rayne) would often be caught off somewhere sneaking a smoke when they probably shouldn’t have been.

Shirley (or our shared fiend Marco Leynor) would introduce me to Jimmy Trullinger at some point in time. As the years blended together and my interests started to shift from exhibiting towards judging, both of them would share some of their knowledge.

Independently, they were very different from me. Jimmy was very much a senior and his tall and distinguished demeanor was a bit foreboding. Jimmy didn’t drive and when possible we would go together to some local shows. It was not unusual for me to have a few stops in those days as Marco was another non-driver and would also be a member of our gypsy tribe! But he loved to tell stories and on many of our travels he would delight me with his vast life history. Sometimes this very dog specific and sometimes more of a titillating vibe…which, of course, I loved! Sure, I remembered his directive that the Pug should be absolutely “flat” in profile. I never actually would take out a pencil and lay it on the layback of the face to be sure little or no light was detected (like he did as a rule), but I would slide a finger there to check one when I had a question on that detail.

Oh, how I remember Jimmy sitting with me during Best In Show at Westminster when a dog with a missing piece of this anatomy (the ear) was awarded the highest prize. Yikes! He was most upset and equally verbal in his dissatisfaction of that selection. The old guard was never timid when they felt strongly about something. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that I leaned more to that being a “mark of valor or acceptable for a working pack breed”. Looking back now, I can’t help to realize that the ilk of Jimmy is pretty much gone. Many wouldn’t have known it, but Jimmy started out as a very serious breeder. His first (of his many) breed(s) was Dachshunds (all coats) and he maintained a kennel of 50-60 of them back in the day. He had close associations with Alva Rosenberg and Eno Meyer, two greats of the dog sport from the same generation. I often wondered if there was any competition between Jimmy and Alva. I could pick up a bit of that from our chats, and I would think it had to be hard to live in the shadow of the greatness of Alva. Jimmy was a worldly judge but I’m not sure he had the uncanny perspective and perception that Alva did. Sadly, Jimmy struggled during his last years and may have tarnished his reputation for having gone on a bit too long. But to be fair, some would say the same thing about Alva, too. I’ll share with you my favorite saying Jimmy shared with me about judging. He told me, “The minute I enter the ring and don’t feel nervous, it’s time to quit judging”!

Shirley may not have had the same depth as a judge. She was more aligned with a steady breeding program and managed to juggle both for a good long time. She did all Toys, some Non-Sporting and some Sporting breeds. I know she had Poodles, Labradors and even a Scottish Deerhound at one time. Shirley also had a brother who was very active in dogs. Her brother was Al Mishirer, who had a presence in the Doberman breed until some misguided actions brought a permanent suspension upon him. The two shared a lifelong interest in the dogs foster by that of their parents who were also active in the game. As I noted at the start, Shirley was a club member extraordinaire. I lost count of all the positions she might have had in a conglomeration of breed and all-breed clubs. Her work ethic for her clubs was legendary. I’m not sure many could have done what she did. With all that she took on, much which yielded great success, there were those who called into question some of her tactics required to get things done. My son, Michael, worked with her when her Progressive Toy Dog Club and our local Afghan Hound Club both lost their Westminster weekend sites. They were leading principles that helped build a major combined set of breed clubs to hold a three day event in the heart of Manhattan for many years. These clubs (and many others) still hold their events at that time, but without either of them in the same capacity.

Shirley did a good amount of international judging and was always sought after to help establish a breed in some of these emerging countries. This connection allowed her to bring in many international judges that were new and interesting. I know she was highly regarded in the Philippines for seeing some good stock being sent there. Shirley was old school in our dog world. Love her or not, she brought something to the sport that will be remembered. I choose to remember all the good she had in her and never let her bark override that gift.

I think it’s hard to imagine the likes of Jimmy and Shirley to be universally accepted in the current showing arena, but I guess 50 or 60 years from now they will be saying that about me!

To read the complete article click here 210 – September, 2012

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, September, 2012

Sometimes I have a“plan for my next article and sometimes someone’s name just pops into my head and I say, “Where did he/she/that come from?” I seldom question the who, what or where’s. I just enjoy reminiscing and putting pen to the paper. YES, I still take pen to paper, not fingers to a keyboard tethered to the grey box(es) that adorn my office desk! I don’t even think about me uploading, downloading, emptying a cache or, heaven forbid, Tweeting! All that still sounds a bit “murky” to me. I do enlist some help from a much younger family member – my six year-old great-granddaughter is about the right age for all this high-tech stuff – to get the final thoughts into something that can be transmitted over the fiber-optic cable to whoever it is that brings such a nice finished product to my mailbox each month.

This month belongs to Sandy Schwartz aka Mr. Alexander C. Schwartz. Sandy and his wife, Glorvina, were contemporaries of mine in the dog world for many years. While we certainly didn’t run in the same circles, we often ran around in the same circles… that circle being the show ring! Sandy’s family had a background in the horse breeding community with some mighty fine racing lines credited to his father’s farm.

His father bred the great Kentucky Derby winner Bold Venture, who in turn would sire another all-time great, the Triple Crown Winner Assault. These were (and remain) momentous  names in the history of horse racing.

Many successful horse people would make the transition to the canine world. Usually if they were good in one arena, they would excel in the other. This was the case for Sandy. His arrival on the scene was noted right from the get-go! He was a large figure in the New York and International financial world as an investment banker (VP) for Prudential Bache of New York, NY. Did I mention that he was also tall, slender and rather handsome?

Sandy and Glorvina’s Sandina Kennels was home to many, many greats in both Afghan Hounds and Norwich Terriers, the later representing their ownership of a Westminster Best In Show winner. Sandy’s primary residence during his most active showing years was Tuxedo Park, NY.  A beautiful, small bedroom community on the Rockland-Westchester County border which abutted the New York/New Jersey state line. We saw a lot of each other, mostly at local shows, often spending lots of time chatting about anything doggy. We showed against each other for decades and judged alongside each other just as long.

To say Sandy was a keen competitor would be an understatement. As sharp as a competitor he was could only be matched by his hard work and his masterful talent for figuring out the “industry” rapidly and with precision. He quickly realized there was a great fountain of knowledge being underused in the many great elder judges of the time, and he made inroads with them that seemed beneficial to all involved. I thought some of his resourcefulness was constructive to the community; others would disagree with that statement. When he found a way to reactivate the long disbanded Tuxedo Park Kennel Club, our area was treated to one of the most beautiful shows in the country. It was held on landmark grounds with five-star judges presiding. It would kick off one of the country’s most important weekends of shows. A win, an assignment, a membership at Tuxedo Park or Westchester had true prestige to it. With him at the helm, and Glorvina (as his most endearing quality) at his side, that weekend would flourish and thrive and, to this day, the clubs he was involved with still have an impressive roster of members and they still put on some fine events. I believe he also had membership(s) in The Westminster Kennel Club and the Palm Beach Kennel Club.

Interestingly, and most noticeably, was the fact that one scarcely ever saw Sandy in the ring as an exhibitor. I dare say the photo I included here is one of the only times I ever bore witness to him actually exhibiting. But being married to one of the greatest talents ever to grace a show ring, (and doing so as a Breeder/Owner/ Handler) he was smart enough to let Glorvina do all the showing.

As smart as he was, there was an incident that would dispel that trait. It was truly of the only questionable things in the dog show world credited to Sandy. He allowed his competitiveness to cloud his impeccable judgment one day and the results would prove disastrous. The quick and skinny is: A handler’s dog was reported ill and planned to be absent. The major was going to break. Sandy was involved in getting the dog in the ring somehow, then his entry goes BOW for the Major… OUCH! All hell breaks loose within the fancy. There were hearings, interviews, blah, blah, blah. The powers that be slapped a few wrists and everyone moved on… ALMOST. The PHA and some key exhibitors decided to have a “show” of solidarity and thus begat the PHA Super Match. This little effort would grow to host a panel of over 100 judges with thousands of entries. Oh, and I don’t think it was lost on many that the event was held on the same day as the Tuxedo Park Kennel Club!

Personally, I found the entire thing uncomfortable. I sympathized with those who felt they had to act on principle and their message was delivered. The lines that were drawn in the sand toward those who supported either event vanished over time. I was so glad when this all passed over as I’m more the “Kiss and Make-up” type than anything else.

What Sandy should be remembered most for is his natural talent as a judge. As noted, he didn’t have the in-ring experience, but he was a student of the sport and recognized a great one at first glance. He was as serious a judge as any person I knew. And he judged for all the right reasons! He respected the breeders, the handlers and could prioritize and sort a class without missing a trick. Indeed, one of the most useful comments he would impart was, “If you find a dog you feel is the right dog to reward, you better know the best way to make it look like it is!” So, if you think for one second the glorious dog with an iffy front, but dripping in type with beautiful correct sidegait goes “Around and around…maybe more times than normal…it’s winning because I’m not going to remind any onlookers that the front isn’t his best feature.” Doing this is harder than you think! There was many a breeder who valued his opinion. He did more than the usual number of National Specialties. He was approved for five or more groups and was always very busy. His last years were fraught with uncertainty and an ongoing illness kept him very limited in almost everything. Glorvina and his family were there for him and she in turn would keep his friends abreast of his condition. He never did recover and left us in the winter of 2003. I have to say as good a judge Sandy was, many feel that Glorvina would have eclipsed him had she stayed the course and continued to expand her judging. She resigned from judging but remains an active club member in both the Tuxedo Park and Palm Beach clubs.  I miss seeing them both. Our little circle has slowed down and none of us are running as fast as we did back then. Sometimes it just “&*#@!” me off to “Look Back” but I wouldn’t change a thing!

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, September, 2012

By Nikki Riggsbee

The Border Terrier experts emphasized time and again that this breed is a working terrier, and that the important characteristics were those that support that activity. Some experts expressed doubts that this survey could identify the important features of Border Terriers, that individual virtues and faults could not be ranked to help reach the whole dog.

Most students of a breed build up their image of the whole, correct dog of any breed step by step. Part of the education is learning what is most important and what can be forgiven. Evaluation is different and more difficult than just describing the perfect dog. Evaluation is a process of making choices, and students learn to make better ones when they learn the choices that experts would make. It can be hard to analyze your own thought processes, to identify why you value one dog above another that is very close in quality. Yes, the perfect dog has all the critical virtues and none of the serious faults. But there are very few perfect dogs, if any. In the meantime, we have to put them in order.

Twenty-five Border Terrier experts were invited to complete the survey on which this article was based; almost all were judges. Twenty-two of the group agreed to participate. Fourteen surveys were returned, which is almost sixty percent of the original list. The participants averaged almost thirty-five years in the breed and over seventeen years judging it. Three-quarters had judged the national specialty and other Border Terrier specialty shows.

BORDER TERRIER VIRTUES

The survey included two lists, one of faults and one of virtues. The genesis of this portion of the survey is at the end of the AKC Irish Wolfhound standard, where there is a “List of Points in Order of Merit.” Below is the list of Border Terrier virtues in sequence by the average of the experts’ ranks, from most important to least important.

]]> https://caninechronicle.com/uncategorized/breed-priorities-the-border-terrier/feed/ 0 https://caninechronicle.com/current-articles/judges-selection/ https://caninechronicle.com/current-articles/judges-selection/#comments Sat, 02 May 2020 19:43:40 +0000 subschron http://caninechronicle.com/?p=21979 Read more at 118 – May, 2013

by Peter Baynes

From the archives of The Canine Chronicle, May, 2013 Issue

“I am not one of the multi-group judges who judges numerous shows each year, 

but even so I have to be careful of conflicts

 when agreeing on the phone to judge a certain show.”

The judges’ selection committee has requested your availability to judge our next year’s show. If  you are available we will pay roundtrip airfare, and all other reasonable expenses including a quality hotel accommodation. Our shows usually draw over 3,000 entries, and the air-conditioned show building is regarded as one of the finest in the country. We look forward to your early reply, together with the fee you charge.”

An impossible dream? Although some clubs do follow, more or less, this protocol, wouldn’t it be nice if all invitations to judge a show could be written in a similar form, with a firm invitation to judge one of their upcoming shows. You will note that this is more or less a contract, where the fee charged is of little importance. They obviously want you, as they boast about their show. Unfortunately, most inquiries these days are not so formal; it is usually a telephone conversation from someone you don’t know, about a show you know nothing about, and they want an immediate reply as they are in a meeting at the moment.

Sometimes that meeting takes place in a different time zone; 10:00 PM on the west coast is 1:00 AM on the east coast. This is where things can go wrong. Someone hungry for assignments may agree to the assignment only to find hours later, suffering from a hangover, and digging into their cornflakes, that they remember they have a conflict, with the only other show they are judging that year. I don’t usually answer those calls, thinking it may be one of my bombed out desperate fans wanting to talk to me. I am not one of the multi-group judges who judges numerous shows each year, but even so I have to be careful of conflicts when agreeing on the phone to judge a certain show, especially if I may have a hangover the next day.

Also, not all phone conversations are too explicit, and when the contract is received, you may find that you are not judging as many days as you thought. However, even that is better than receiving no contract at all, and having to get the bad news when you receive the premium list. I understand the AKC does not like to get involved in situations of this nature.

On some other occasions, a brief conversation with a show organizer and a promise of an assignment does not always become fruitful, as they obviously may suffer from amnesia.

I can relate several instances where some phone calls have been a little suspicious. One, where some official from one club wanted to talk to me about judging their show, but noted I was judging a show where they would be, and they would talk to me there. That person showed to me, I didn’t do much for the individual, and so we never got to talk, and I never got to judge the show. On another instance, it was more or less the same situation, but this time it was a mystery caller. I again couldn’t do much for the transparent mysterious exhibitor, but the show chair hired me anyway. Sometimes honesty pays.

Occasionally, when I was a handler, one of the local clubs would let me know which judges they were considering for one of my strong breeds. On one occasion, they said the judges selection committee was considering one of three judges on their list. I agreed with two but definitely not the third. Of course, they hired that one. I’ve always been cautious ever since of giving my opinion about judges. Fortunately, this dope thought I got him the assignment, and he gave me the breed from the classes anyway.

Of course, not all clubs have a judge’s selection committee, and sometimes the show chair or president is the one who does all the hiring. Specialty Clubs usually let their members vote on the nominations.

A nomination by a breed club can sometimes be an embarrassing situation, especially if they ask for a biography. After pouring one’s heart out describing involvement in the breed, and the story of your life, covering several pages in the reply — and then very few of the members vote for you. It’s particularly heartbreaking when you feel the winner’s notes should be checked for accuracy.

At some all breed shows input from the members is taken into account. Unfortunately, some recommend a judge who appears to like their type of dog. It is sometimes a mistake as the judge they recommend is not liked by other exhibitors. I must admit that I have recommended judges to clubs but only those that are not only good all-round judges but also, and most importantly, easy to get along with. Some very good judges are very demanding and difficult to please; if they discovered that their lack of assignments was caused by their attitude, they may change their ways.

With novice members suggesting judges, in my experience they haven’t a clue as to the knowledge of the judges they recommend. They even recommend judges who are professional handlers, dead, suspended, or don’t even judge their breed, and of course, most of the time someone who was more than kind to little Tootsie.

I remember many years ago in England when a famous breeder, after listening to novice exhibitors for hours, expounding on something they obviously knew nothing about, she finally stood up, and exploded, “I HATE NOVICES.” I can’t say I agree with those sentiments, but obviously novices are now taking advantage of the internet, and expounding their views about judges, hoping that their opinions will bear some weight in the judges selection process. I wonder if show committees read that garbage.

I may have written about this incidence before, but a Specialty Club wanted to hire a Canadian judge whose surname was quite common. They instructed the correspondence secretary to write to him and offer him the assignment. He accepted, but it was not the person from Canada. Unfortunately, the secretary had looked in the AKC Judges book and wrote to the person with the same name. I believe he judged two breeds and this was his latest breed, and maybe a provisional assignment. Fortunately, he attended the banquet the night before, noted whom the important people were, and those were the ones that did all the winning. He made many members very happy!

In my last article, I said that I don’t always read all the instructions for the show too closely, but I am not alone. Several highly respected  judges did not obviously read that they had been selected to do at least one group, as on at least three occasions those highly regarded individuals left the showgrounds with group(s) still pending on their assignment.

Sometimes, in an emergency, a superintendent will have to be involved in the equation. Those that try to do it on their own may have a problem trying to replace a multi-group judge close to the time of the show. A friend of mine, a show chair for a popular show, had to call ten different judges to find a replacement. The replacement was a very vain judge who would have been shocked if he had known that he was the tenth choice.

Sometimes, I have had similar situations, whereas I was unable to help, and when I have suggested another judge, their reply, “We’ve already called him,” could have been a morale deflator, but as you know, I am a very humble person. Ask my wife.

With foreign assignments, they are usually straightforward invitations. You never know where they got your name. It’s never wise to ask, otherwise those individuals will expect special attention to their exhibits. Of course, the same can apply in this country, but we do have guidelines for conflict of interest, whereas I am sure it could be possible to excuse from the ring the person who picked you up at the airport. On one overseas incident, the nice attractive  lady who picked up two American judges at the airport and transported them to the hotel showed six animals to the two judges the next day. Incidentally, I was one of the judges.

There are always the assertions that show chairs will hire other show chairs in order to swap assignments. Sometimes, if it is not a strong panel, it can appear to be obvious that this may be the case. However, looking at some panels loaded with show chairs, if it is quite a good panel, and the show chair is not interested in doing too many shows, or even not a judge… the assertions can be false.

I have Judges Directories from 1985 to 2012, and the increase in size over the years is phenomenal. I haven’t bothered to count the number of judges in the two extreme examples, but it would seem that we have more judges than needed to compensate for the increase in the number of shows. Maybe if we curtail the number of shows, we should also cut back on the number of judges. Some judge very rarely as it is. The multi-group judges are the ones that are the most recognizable, and they are the ones that judge most often. The old days of sticking a pin in the directory and hitting a worthwhile judge would seem to be gone. In those days, one chair I know compiled a ‘Smith’ panel quite easily, without having to stick a pin.

Some naïve participants have suggested that the AKC should become involved in selecting judges for all the shows. Scary ideas, as we already know who their favorites are because of their selection of judges for their own AKC/Eukanuba National Championship. Maybe I’d better start being nicer to them.