While On The Subject
92 – August, 2010
By Gay Dunlap
If you took the time to read my column last month, you may have noticed that I segued toward the end, briefly discussing an injustice that I believe deserves more attention. I hinted that our behavior at dog events may be aiding and abetting our antagonists, those groups that might like to see us wither and disappear. In how many ways has the world of dogs become a “dog-eat-dog” world; a world in which we care solely about our own interests and the devil take the hindmost? This self-centered, every-man-for-himself attitude can take hold before we are even aware of it, especially so, given that we are a microcosm of our world which seems more and more to be “all-about-me” as well. Is it really so hard to compliment each other… a fellow breeder, exhibitor, a fellow judge? Just how rare is this? Probably more rare than you and I would like to admit.
As I pointed out in my last column, every aspect of the fancy either requires, encourages, or elicits judgments of one sort or another, does it not? As breeders, we not only judge our own stock but we are often called upon to judge the stock of others as well. As exhibitors, we judge our competition. In the latter instance, our judgments often tend to be unfavorable. But not always.
I recently nominated one of our national club members for AKC’s Outstanding Sportsmanship Award. This award is designed to honor an individual who deserves special recognition for having made a difference in the sport of purebred dogs; one who embodies the AKC Code of Sportsmanship and is an active member of an AKC member club. My nominee is one of those rare souls that graciously departs the ring when she loses, offers genuine congratulations to the winners and, most importantly, knows what is right and what is wrong with her dogs! She also willingly helps her competitors to better present their dogs. A true role model, she is indeed a jewel and a rare one at that!
Exhibitors also judge their judges. My nominee notwithstanding, exhibitors are sometimes quick to love a judge that puts them up and equally quick to hate the judge that doesn’t. Exhibitors that know their dogs’ faults tend to lose more magnanimously but even that is not always enough to engender good sportsmanship. At a three-show circuit a few weeks ago, a dog I bred won the first two with another special winning breed the third day. The winner that final day was a lovely dog. As I stood admiring the dog, my eyes met those of the breeder/owner and I told him how much I liked his boy… it was such an easy thing to do and I am certain the owner appreciated it. Don’t misunderstand me…I am not so arrogant as to think I am the only person to have done this sort of thing. But, still, I think it is all too rare. I am not suggesting that one become a Pollyanna either. Compliments, above all, must be sincere and ring clearly of truth. The old adage, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” applies here. But if you appreciate a dog or the judging on the day, and the opportunity presents itself, say so.
There are positive payoffs of which those unfamiliar with handing out compliments may be unaware. Most compelling – it really makes us feel good to give a compliment. Why is this? It is because we are connecting directly, and out of the kindness in our hearts, with another human being. It liberates us from the disorder we call “all-about-me” and, if done enough, enables us to look at our world in a more positive, stimulating and refreshing way. Compliments are based upon a universal truth – that everyone appreciates kindness.
The antithesis of this is covered amazingly well in Don’t You Dare Steal My Joy, a piece written by Connie Cleveland, dog obedience trainer and competitor in both obedience and field trials. It was reprinted in the Skye Terrier Club of America’s publication, and taken from Connie’s book, Dogs Are Problem Solvers, Handlers Should Be. In it she describes her 10th wedding anniversary dinner during which her husband presented her with a gorgeous diamond ring. She says that even as she thanked him she worried about the expense and extravagance of the gift. When her husband excused himself from the table momentarily, Connie’s adopted grandmother, her dearest friend who was invited to join them, grabbed her by the shoulder and said that she knew what Connie was thinking and that she didn’t care if he had to put a second mortgage on the house to buy the ring, “don’t you steal his joy.” She ended her mini-sermon by repeating, “Don’t you dare steal his joy!” Connie says she “learned a wonderfully important lesson, never to steal another man’s joy.”
We are all familiar with other expressions that refer to this sort of spirit-dampening activity. “Don’t rain on my parade” and “Don’t steal my thunder” come to mind. Connie provides the following examples of joy stealing… remarks made to various winners: “Isn’t that judge an idiot? I can’t believe the dogs he put up!” “You passed that Master test because the water blind was so easy.” And, “I can’t believe you placed; I thought Jane One-up and her dog would beat you.” She says how unfortunate it is that she remembers such attempts to steal her joy, far more than the cards and letters and congratulations she received.
I have a few examples of my own. In 1971, before my breed was even recognized, I took my foundation bitch to a match. She was a puppy then and when I took my place in the ring the person standing in front of me looked at her somewhat disdainfully and asked, “What is that?” “A Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier,” I demurely replied, thinking she did not know. “A little large, isn’t it!” was the response. Her Wheaten was quite different from mine, I must admit. He was small and Irish-coated. Whatever, I have never forgotten the exchange after all these years, even though my bitch became the third Wheaten champion of record, the first Wheaten to win Best In Show, and the producer of 22 champions. The mean-spirited Wheaten person dropped from sight years ago. Another instance occurred even earlier. In the late ‘60s I entered my very first dog show, the Westchester Kennel Club show, which was practically in my own back yard. I had what I thought was a lovely Yorkshire Terrier. On my way onto the grounds, I spotted some Yorkie people and rather proudly announced that I was showing my Yorkie too. How naïve, I was! One of the ladies gave my little “Muffin” a rather pitiable look and said, “This is a very prestigious show to choose for your first one!” Muffin Of Manor Woods, purchased through a NY Times ad from (groan) a back-yard breeder in Rockland County, had drop-ears! What did I know? The standard I had read said drop-ears were acceptable. Wouldn’t it have been lovely if one of these ladies had chosen to take me under her wing and mentor me, rather than to make me feel foolish and ashamed?
The same sorts of injustices, unintentional as they often are, exist as well in the judges’ realm. Here again, the all-about-me condition seems alive and well. As judges, how many times have we heard, “I wouldn’t have done that,” or “I’d have put up so-and-so’s dog myself,” the person speaking never realizing what a put-down these words are? We more often than not walk from the group ring followed by not one phrase even resembling, “Good job!” As ringside judges are we so busy thinking about ourselves, verbalizing how we might have placed the dogs that we fail to understand in doing so we are making the other judge wrong? A friend of mine, a fellow judge, is fond of remarking, “That is why there are so many of us!” And it’s true. There are many ways to skin a cat, as the saying goes. Here again, none of us appreciates insincerity. But on the other hand, a positive nod goes a long way. I well remember the boost to my morale when a judge that I admire a lot greeted me with, “Good job!” following my group judging.
Clubs, both all breed and breed specific, are not immune to this sort of behavior either… the backbiting, lack of respect, need to be in control, and (ahem) the embezzling of funds, are shocking examples of behavior that clubs could well do without. Club members need to understand the concept of disagreeing agreeably. Sadly, there are among us many dedicated fanciers who refuse to join any club at all for this very reason.
Pogo’s line, “We have seen the enemy and he is us” certainly applies here. And lest I appear sanctimonious, trust me, I am far from lily white. Aren’t we all tarred, in one way or another, with the same brush? Acknowledging this is a positive step toward the changes needed; we owe it to the sport to be kind to and supportive of each other. Remember, we are the future of the fancy.
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on Sep 10 2010. Filed under Uncategorized.
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