Just a bit of a pet peeve here. If you get an email or see a photo on FB that is "shocking" why not go to Snopes.com or one of the other sites that explain/discuss these things? Especially if it is politically motivated?
I am not pro-Obama but seriously? He is going to be kissing a man in public with his wife looking on? On the flip side, some of the Bush photos/stories are just as outrageous. Both sides are eager to shove the other into the mud as much as possible. Both sides are not without fault. Both sides are after as much money and power as they can get from the citizens of this country. "Right wing/Left Wing" simply means one is going to reach as deep in to the right or left pocket as they can and pull as much money out as possible.
There are aspects of the democratic belief system I agree with, some of the republican system I agree with but when it is time to vote, it isn't the party I am voting for but the candidate and 99.9% of the time, it is the individual I consider the best/least of two evils.
Very rarely is it a man (or woman) I would want to visit in my house, be around my kids or even feed my dogs. Certainly don't want one around with a cigar who swears he did not inhale.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Handlers, Disliked Dogs, Clock Watchers and Cleavage
This past weekend, my husband and I headed out of town to meet up with a couple of friends for what was to be a two day show. Well, the two day turned into one day as that "act of God" clause that means entry fees won't be refunded if show is cancelled. I will say that they did at least tell everyone that Sunday's show was cancelled early on Saturday instead of waiting until we started to show up at the crack of dawn on Sunday.
Smooth collies had an 8 am ring call, Saint Bernards 11:35 and rough collies were after 2pm. Since we had dogs in the smooth and Saint rings, as well as a friend with an entry in the rough collie ring, David and I were there for the entire day. It also gave a great deal of time to watch judges in various rings to see how they dealt with the handlers, treated the dogs during the exams, and in general how they ran their rings. Also came across instances where the words or actions of those same judges could have really turned off those without thick skins or confidence in the quality of their dogs.
For instance, Judge #1, "You have a beautiful bitch but you need to get a handler so she can move the way she needs too."
Ok, so you are saying you really liked my bitch but I am the reason we lost. That there is no hope for me to handle her and win. Thank you. That is a real boost to someone's confidence that is already on shaky ground. That is the way to make someone want to get out and show again.
Judge #2 to a non-winning dog in the hearing of the winning handler, "You have the type of _____ I like to see. The type I raised but you need to move her out more."
Ok, so you disliked my dog but knew you couldn't justify passing her over? Talk about mixed signals!
Judge #3. To this judge I can only say that a working dog (be it herding or working breed) should be able to move. Don't watch the perky girl's boobs move around the ring and give a major (or any points) to a dog who should in all honesty have blisters and bald spots on the insides of the hocks from knocking together. Especially when that poor dog can't hold the position for stacking for any amount of time. Oh, by the way, the least you could do is at least glance at the other dogs in the winner's competition before giving it to said perky boobs.
Judge #4. If you are running within the allotted show times, what is the hurry on getting everyone through? Do you have a big date that you must get ready for? Is there a reason you must check your watch every time a dog is going on the down and back? Must you make everyone in the ring feel like they are wasting your time?
Why this post about judges?
It is because the future of dog shows depend on new people coming in. The only way the ones with no ring experience can become the leaders of tomorrow in their breed is by getting out there and doing it. By building a thick skin that will allow them to continue even when faced with repeated losses. True, some folks are oblivious to certain types of comments. Others have the, "I don't give a shit what you think"attitude. However there are many who don't.
There are ways of telling someone their entry would do better if handled differently. If you want to say something nice about the reserve winners or even another one in the class, wait until the winner has left the ring and lower your voice so nobody else can over hear you.
Why worry about it if the winner has already left? Simple. The dog show world is a very small, gossipy world. While it is full of wonderful, helpful folks, it also has those who look for a way of tearing down or making someone else feel like crap.
This weekend was a perfect example of why I enjoy showing my dogs. It was also a perfect example of why I dislike it so much at the same time. And why I wish all newbies could have a taste of the enjoyment that will make them want to try again. The part where competitors help each other out. The part where they cheer for you winning, even if it was against their dog. Where they can find breeders who turn into mentors, not just the one who sold them a dog.
It is where that newbie can walk into a ring and the judge treats them like he/she still enjoys the job. Win or lose, it is hard to find any enjoyment when the one running the ring just grunts or points. When they act like have no patience for puppies acting like puppies or handlers simply asking, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
I have been very fortunate over the years. Both years ago when I first started with dogs, and then more recently when I decided to get back into it. I wish every new exhibitor could be as lucky.
Smooth collies had an 8 am ring call, Saint Bernards 11:35 and rough collies were after 2pm. Since we had dogs in the smooth and Saint rings, as well as a friend with an entry in the rough collie ring, David and I were there for the entire day. It also gave a great deal of time to watch judges in various rings to see how they dealt with the handlers, treated the dogs during the exams, and in general how they ran their rings. Also came across instances where the words or actions of those same judges could have really turned off those without thick skins or confidence in the quality of their dogs.
For instance, Judge #1, "You have a beautiful bitch but you need to get a handler so she can move the way she needs too."
Ok, so you are saying you really liked my bitch but I am the reason we lost. That there is no hope for me to handle her and win. Thank you. That is a real boost to someone's confidence that is already on shaky ground. That is the way to make someone want to get out and show again.
Judge #2 to a non-winning dog in the hearing of the winning handler, "You have the type of _____ I like to see. The type I raised but you need to move her out more."
Ok, so you disliked my dog but knew you couldn't justify passing her over? Talk about mixed signals!
Judge #3. To this judge I can only say that a working dog (be it herding or working breed) should be able to move. Don't watch the perky girl's boobs move around the ring and give a major (or any points) to a dog who should in all honesty have blisters and bald spots on the insides of the hocks from knocking together. Especially when that poor dog can't hold the position for stacking for any amount of time. Oh, by the way, the least you could do is at least glance at the other dogs in the winner's competition before giving it to said perky boobs.
Judge #4. If you are running within the allotted show times, what is the hurry on getting everyone through? Do you have a big date that you must get ready for? Is there a reason you must check your watch every time a dog is going on the down and back? Must you make everyone in the ring feel like they are wasting your time?
Why this post about judges?
It is because the future of dog shows depend on new people coming in. The only way the ones with no ring experience can become the leaders of tomorrow in their breed is by getting out there and doing it. By building a thick skin that will allow them to continue even when faced with repeated losses. True, some folks are oblivious to certain types of comments. Others have the, "I don't give a shit what you think"attitude. However there are many who don't.
There are ways of telling someone their entry would do better if handled differently. If you want to say something nice about the reserve winners or even another one in the class, wait until the winner has left the ring and lower your voice so nobody else can over hear you.
Why worry about it if the winner has already left? Simple. The dog show world is a very small, gossipy world. While it is full of wonderful, helpful folks, it also has those who look for a way of tearing down or making someone else feel like crap.
This weekend was a perfect example of why I enjoy showing my dogs. It was also a perfect example of why I dislike it so much at the same time. And why I wish all newbies could have a taste of the enjoyment that will make them want to try again. The part where competitors help each other out. The part where they cheer for you winning, even if it was against their dog. Where they can find breeders who turn into mentors, not just the one who sold them a dog.
It is where that newbie can walk into a ring and the judge treats them like he/she still enjoys the job. Win or lose, it is hard to find any enjoyment when the one running the ring just grunts or points. When they act like have no patience for puppies acting like puppies or handlers simply asking, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
I have been very fortunate over the years. Both years ago when I first started with dogs, and then more recently when I decided to get back into it. I wish every new exhibitor could be as lucky.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
I Already LIVE In Interesting Times
If nothing else, my life is interesting and I don't think I could handle if it became any more so.
My daughter and I both had doctor's appointments today so we were out most of the afternoon. Got home to find Mouse the Mighty (our Saint Bernard puppy) had busted in my bedroom door. Not tore it down in typical Beethoven style but simply hit it hard enough to release the doorknob. So far he is the only one to be able to do it. Even though the three cats normally stay in my room, there is no problem because it is a mutual love between them.
Today wasn't a typical day though. I had left Holly, who would love every cat to be served on toast, loose in the house. Mouse comes out to meet us when get got home but at first, I didn't see Holly.
There we heard a "thump, thunk, thump, aarrooohooh" sound coming from my bathroom. Look in the bathroom, no dog. "Thump, thunk, thump." hmm, sounds like it is coming from under the tub. It is then that I notice the tub inclosure moving.
"What the hell?"
Looking again, I realize the cabinet doors I had been leaving open to let the heat from the house get to the pipes were now closed.
"Aaroroooohoh, thump thump."
Two cats sitting around the room looking really pissed off. On sitting on the bed staring at me as if to dare me to finish reaching for the cabinet door. I opened the cabinet door and who should be under the tub, looking out of the tiny access panel from the cabinet but Holly? Yes, all 65 lbs of big, muscled up, should have been a tank, Holly.
Let me just say that a smooth collie in fully extended pursuit is a much skinnier dog than one very ashamed, stuck under an enclosed garden tub collie. She'd poke her head out, and the cats would, "Yeowlll, grrrrlll" at her and the head would go back in.
She wanted nothing to do with the cats. Nothing to do with me. Didn't really care about the cheese bribe to come out. Her head was actually all that COULD come out.
It took some dismantling of the garden tub's enclosure, ripping of the siding that boxed in the access panel but Holly is now out and a little worse for wear because when it comes to fighting in a very small, tight space, a big collie is at a distinct disadvantage to a small, agile, pissed off cat.
My daughter and I both had doctor's appointments today so we were out most of the afternoon. Got home to find Mouse the Mighty (our Saint Bernard puppy) had busted in my bedroom door. Not tore it down in typical Beethoven style but simply hit it hard enough to release the doorknob. So far he is the only one to be able to do it. Even though the three cats normally stay in my room, there is no problem because it is a mutual love between them.
Today wasn't a typical day though. I had left Holly, who would love every cat to be served on toast, loose in the house. Mouse comes out to meet us when get got home but at first, I didn't see Holly.
There we heard a "thump, thunk, thump, aarrooohooh" sound coming from my bathroom. Look in the bathroom, no dog. "Thump, thunk, thump." hmm, sounds like it is coming from under the tub. It is then that I notice the tub inclosure moving.
"What the hell?"
Looking again, I realize the cabinet doors I had been leaving open to let the heat from the house get to the pipes were now closed.
"Aaroroooohoh, thump thump."
Two cats sitting around the room looking really pissed off. On sitting on the bed staring at me as if to dare me to finish reaching for the cabinet door. I opened the cabinet door and who should be under the tub, looking out of the tiny access panel from the cabinet but Holly? Yes, all 65 lbs of big, muscled up, should have been a tank, Holly.
Let me just say that a smooth collie in fully extended pursuit is a much skinnier dog than one very ashamed, stuck under an enclosed garden tub collie. She'd poke her head out, and the cats would, "Yeowlll, grrrrlll" at her and the head would go back in.
She wanted nothing to do with the cats. Nothing to do with me. Didn't really care about the cheese bribe to come out. Her head was actually all that COULD come out.
It took some dismantling of the garden tub's enclosure, ripping of the siding that boxed in the access panel but Holly is now out and a little worse for wear because when it comes to fighting in a very small, tight space, a big collie is at a distinct disadvantage to a small, agile, pissed off cat.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Who Knew Addictions Were Contagious?
I turned 16 in 1976 and started my first "real" job on my birthday. At the time it was a dream come true. Working at a veterinary hospital that specialized in horses. For me, $3 an hour was worth the long hours after school and working every weekend. The fact I'd made more money cutting grass for the neighbors every week than I would in a month of "real" work completely escaped me.
I worked two weeks before my first paycheck and once it was in my hand, it was gone by the next day. With it I had purchased the first of a lifelong obsession that has continued on to this day. In fact, I hate to think of how much still goes into this obsession. Simply put, the obsession was to have a collie of my very own.
I'd grown up watching Lassie, reading the stories of the Sunnybank collies and begging my parents to let me have a collie. They never were willing to foot the bill but told me, "When you can earn the money to buy it yourself, you can have it." Never believing I would ever actually do it.
My first collie was a mahogany sable and white that I named Buck. I began trying to show him but the breeder wasn't interested in being a "mentor" so while we brought home a few ribbons, I never really learned anything about grooming. Once the hip dysplasia was discovered, my show career to that point ended at 17.
For 9 years Buck was my best friend and once he died, he became the only thing I regretted leaving behind when I decided to leave my first husband. However he was not my last collie.
The next time around I found a true breeder who was more than happy to help explain show grooming, collie care, breeding, etc. In turn, this breeder introduced me to the woman who would not only take me under her wing 20 plus years ago, she also became the mentor of my children when they began their junior handling careers.
Yes, children came into the picture after I married my second husband. Over the years has has supported my collie obsession financially, emotionally, and physically. When work would allow, he would go to shows with the kids and I, work like a pack mule with never a complaint. Sit for hours while I groomed, waited for ring calls, would walk the dogs for us regardless of weather, cheer when we won and console us when we lost. Then turn around and carry all the stuff back to the car, load it up and then help unload it at home.
Except for few differences, this past weekend in Starkville, Mississppi was the same. Nasty weather to load in with what turned into a 10 hr drive to the show site. Got there less than 30 minutes before they were going to lock the doors and if any of you readers are middle-aged women who have had children, you will understand the first thing on my mind when we pulled in was NOT unloading anything but myself and finding the closest restroom, leaving 4 dogs, an Expedition and a trailer to my long suffering husband to deal with. And deal with it he did.
I had collie friends there who had already scoped us out a grooming area. Dave started loading the dolly with crates, tables, and all the other stuff before I ever got back from the restroom. I finally joined him and we pushed/pulled/manhandled the dolly across the boggy, uneven ground of a horse arena. After working, he had to settle for a fast food dinner and then unloading our personal stuff in the hotel room. Then the poor man was walking dogs in a parking lot that had one lonely tree and a 4'x30' strip of grass that earlier show folks had already scoped out for x-pens.
I know this all sounds like typical show experience, so what made it different than any other show?
First off, we were making a show together withOUT any of our kids. Traveling out of state without chaperones? Unheard of!
Second, we were set up with friends of mine who have no inhibitions about what we discuss. Imagine one middle aged man in a group of 5 outgoing, talkative women. Some men's idea of hell, my husband joined in and laughed with us.
The last and most important difference of this weekend is that my obsession/addiction has now corrupted my dear husband. A few months ago I had gotten him a St. Bernard show puppy and for the first time, the puppy "Mouse" and my ever supportive but inexperienced in the ring husband, went into the ring as a team.
I was so very proud of both of them. Each having had only one (the same) handling class and each giving it their best in the ring. It would have been so easy for Dave to hand the lead off to someone else who knew what they were doing in the ring. God knows I've done it often enough when I wasn't sure about being able to physically run the ring. While Saturday he let Mouse's breeder take him in the class, Dave then got up and took him in to try for Reserve Winners. On Sunday, he did it all himself.
So what is the point of this longwinded post? Simply that dog show addictions are contagious. One person does it then sucks in another and another and then the entire family and their circle of friends are addicted. My husband is already looking forward to our next show…and the next…and so on.
I worked two weeks before my first paycheck and once it was in my hand, it was gone by the next day. With it I had purchased the first of a lifelong obsession that has continued on to this day. In fact, I hate to think of how much still goes into this obsession. Simply put, the obsession was to have a collie of my very own.
I'd grown up watching Lassie, reading the stories of the Sunnybank collies and begging my parents to let me have a collie. They never were willing to foot the bill but told me, "When you can earn the money to buy it yourself, you can have it." Never believing I would ever actually do it.
My first collie was a mahogany sable and white that I named Buck. I began trying to show him but the breeder wasn't interested in being a "mentor" so while we brought home a few ribbons, I never really learned anything about grooming. Once the hip dysplasia was discovered, my show career to that point ended at 17.
For 9 years Buck was my best friend and once he died, he became the only thing I regretted leaving behind when I decided to leave my first husband. However he was not my last collie.
The next time around I found a true breeder who was more than happy to help explain show grooming, collie care, breeding, etc. In turn, this breeder introduced me to the woman who would not only take me under her wing 20 plus years ago, she also became the mentor of my children when they began their junior handling careers.
Yes, children came into the picture after I married my second husband. Over the years has has supported my collie obsession financially, emotionally, and physically. When work would allow, he would go to shows with the kids and I, work like a pack mule with never a complaint. Sit for hours while I groomed, waited for ring calls, would walk the dogs for us regardless of weather, cheer when we won and console us when we lost. Then turn around and carry all the stuff back to the car, load it up and then help unload it at home.
Except for few differences, this past weekend in Starkville, Mississppi was the same. Nasty weather to load in with what turned into a 10 hr drive to the show site. Got there less than 30 minutes before they were going to lock the doors and if any of you readers are middle-aged women who have had children, you will understand the first thing on my mind when we pulled in was NOT unloading anything but myself and finding the closest restroom, leaving 4 dogs, an Expedition and a trailer to my long suffering husband to deal with. And deal with it he did.
I had collie friends there who had already scoped us out a grooming area. Dave started loading the dolly with crates, tables, and all the other stuff before I ever got back from the restroom. I finally joined him and we pushed/pulled/manhandled the dolly across the boggy, uneven ground of a horse arena. After working, he had to settle for a fast food dinner and then unloading our personal stuff in the hotel room. Then the poor man was walking dogs in a parking lot that had one lonely tree and a 4'x30' strip of grass that earlier show folks had already scoped out for x-pens.
I know this all sounds like typical show experience, so what made it different than any other show?
First off, we were making a show together withOUT any of our kids. Traveling out of state without chaperones? Unheard of!
Second, we were set up with friends of mine who have no inhibitions about what we discuss. Imagine one middle aged man in a group of 5 outgoing, talkative women. Some men's idea of hell, my husband joined in and laughed with us.
The last and most important difference of this weekend is that my obsession/addiction has now corrupted my dear husband. A few months ago I had gotten him a St. Bernard show puppy and for the first time, the puppy "Mouse" and my ever supportive but inexperienced in the ring husband, went into the ring as a team.
I was so very proud of both of them. Each having had only one (the same) handling class and each giving it their best in the ring. It would have been so easy for Dave to hand the lead off to someone else who knew what they were doing in the ring. God knows I've done it often enough when I wasn't sure about being able to physically run the ring. While Saturday he let Mouse's breeder take him in the class, Dave then got up and took him in to try for Reserve Winners. On Sunday, he did it all himself.
So what is the point of this longwinded post? Simply that dog show addictions are contagious. One person does it then sucks in another and another and then the entire family and their circle of friends are addicted. My husband is already looking forward to our next show…and the next…and so on.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Just Write!
A few years ago, writing was almost all I did but then life got in the way and waiting on checks from articles was no longer an option. Writing and submitting daily turned into writing on weekends, then an occasional evening and eventually nothing at all.
As a reporter for a community newspaper in Houston, Texas, a published author with articles and essays in print and online, and as a publisher of a growing e-zine that dealt with rape and all forms of abuse, I took pride in my work. There was a special feeling to being able to answer the "What do you do?" question with, "I write."
I've missed that feeling but every time I would open a page to try, I'd stare at that blank page with my mind in a jumble but it occurs to me my friend Lynda Cox was right when she told me the other day to "Just write." So for the first time in almost 9 years I'm going to do just that.
Nine years, it doesn't seem possible. Such a short period of time to have gone through so many changes in our lives. Why "nine years?"
That is when my husband had been seriously injured in a refinery accident and could no longer do the work he loved. Instead of terminating employment, the company decided to retrain him and due to that, we now find ourselves living in a small, Mayberry type of town. In fact, almost every change in our lives over these past nine years is a result of that single July day.
So taking Lynda's advice to heart, there will be no set subject for my blog other than life in general, and it is a very disorganized life at that. I'm a wife, a mother, a grandmother. I have passed the half-century mark and am living proof you can teach an old dog new tricks. I have rough and smooth collies that I have started showing in conformation (aka the breed ring). That in itself is an entire world of creative fodder. <grin>
I've also started my own business by making polymer clay beads for dog show leads, jewelry, macrame, and any other item a bead could be added to. I'd never touched polymer clay until another friend, Sarah Garrison, suggested it in a typical 3 AM conversation between two insomniacs. It began with her telling me, "You know, you are crafty. Why don't you try…" and so Wyld Things was born.
I hope dear reader you will check back for more "Life in the Wyld" and that you will take the occasional walk on the wyld side.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)