There I was, updating Ian's show record to include the PVKC shows last weekend. Looking through the judges I've shown to and the comments I made about each to remind me of the experience the next time I see their names on a premium list. (Do I enter one dog? Both? Do I spend hours grooming or do a quick spit-and-polish? Do I wear a top and some slacks or put on the shortest skirt and deepest V-neck I can find? Or do I take one glance at the premium list and run screaming?)
And then this idea struck me. How many ribbons are there really in that seemingly bottomless stack of purple-and-whites? How many times was Ian robbed? How many times was it a toss-up, and how many times was he simply beaten by a better dog?
How much money have I spent on entry fees?
Even as the right half of my brain was screaming, "Stop!! Don't do it!!" the left side of my brain was instructing my right hand to pick up the calculator and add up the numbers. The neuron had already fired. My inner dogsport enthusiast cringed in horror as the number went up... and up... and up...
I. Did Not. Need to know that. At all. Like, ever. And this wasn't even considering gas and food and hotels and dog toys and omigod-I-have-to-have-that-brush and the grooming table arm that I forgot on the top of the car while I was packing and lost as I was flying down the interstate. No, that was just the entry fees. I so did not need to know that.
More importantly, my husband DOES NOT NEED to know.
Woo! I got email confirmation that my entries for the Vermont cluster made it to MB-F in time, despite my not mailing them until Monday afternoon with a Wednesday noon closing date. Go snails!!
And speaking of snails, I think their cousins the slugs are mutating or something. I swear, I have never seen slugs the size of the ones on my front steps this morning. I think they may have been casing the joint. And while on yard patrol/clean-up duty, I bagged what I THOUGHT was a dog dropping, only to glance down and see it crawling back out of the bag. Imagine my dismay.
Anyone need rain? We have some here for you. Almost two solid weeks of rain, drizzle, fog, and lower-then-normal temperatures. What's up with that? Can we get a little of the heat wave the rest of the country is experiencing? Please? I'm molding! And while I recognize that the vegetable garden does in fact need rain, I think it may also need to -- oh, I don't know -- see the SUN on occasion! Yeesh.
Ian had a great obedience class last night. Four retrieves on the flat, two over the high jump, and every single time he grabbed the dumbbell correctly and held it until I took it. Yay, progress!!!! He also did a nice drop on the recall. His front was horrid, but then they usually are. Ian has made it abundantly clear he is not, nor will he ever be, an OTCH dog. Now, if we can just stop cutting the corner on the broad jump, I think he will be ready to start trialing for his CDX. I'm shooting for the Saccarappa trials in September.
So, in an effort to make them go away, I'm taking a second, part-time job. In addition to the day job, I'll be working Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings. Not terribly conducive to showing dogs, but I will be going to Vermont for 3 shows in July (if my entries made it in time via snail-mail -- fingers crossed!) I should be able to attend the Maine shows and still make it to work by 3:00. That'll just leave me the Springfield cluster in November that I'll need time off for and the Cardi Nationals in April. By spring the bills should be paid off, and voila! I can go back to ONE job again!!!
Also for next spring/summer, I want to add another puppy: the blue foundation bitch I've been dreaming of. Since they are not always easy to come by, I'd better get on the ball and start talking to breeders who may be producing what I'm looking for.
Two dog shows this past weekend, and not much good news to report. Ian needed only two points to finish, but he went Reserve both days. If I had a dime for every purple-and-white ribbon I've collected...
And, Miss Elli made her debut in the show ring on Saturday, in Sweeps and Puppy 6-9. I told Lori before we went into the ring that Elli would be going 4th in her class of 4. Lori assured me that, in fact, her puppy bitch would be going 4th. As it turns out, we were both right: Elli went 4th to Lori's 3rd in Sweeps, and 3rd to Lori's 4th in the regular class. The Sweeps judge pointed out that Elli needs more substance. Gee, ya think?
I won't call it a total loss, though; Elli stacked herself nicely and held the pose much better than I expected. She didn't behave quite as well gaiting (or gamboling, as the case may be) around the ring, but for her first time out she didn't do half bad. Another breeder pointed out that she has enough attitude for 20 corgis. If only she'd grow into it...
Elli's littermate, on the other hand, went Best of Breed over Specials on Saturday, and Reserve on Sunday out of the 6-9 class. Congrats to Debbie and Jessie on Ah-Leah's win! (And yep, I took the wrong puppy.) I will console myself with the fact that I honestly thought that Ah-Leah was the better of the two girls, despite assertions that Elli was the better pup. The moral(s) of the story: 1. Do not be color-blind. I wanted a black so I could breed for blues and didn't want to take an extra generation to do it by choosing the brindle puppy, so I went against my gut and chose Elli. 2. Listen to your gut. It apparently knows what it's talking about. (Unless you've just had Mexican food; then it's got OTHER things on its mind and while, very chatty, it is NOT evaluating puppies.)
Alas, all is not lost, though. Of the two girls, Elli has the far better temperament for agility and obedience competition. I can't wait until she's old enough to start training in agility. She's super-fast and can turn on a dime -- she's going to FLY around the course. And hey, she makes me laugh every single day. Can you really ask for more than that?
When I'm not playing with the dogs, I can be found working on one unfinished novel or another, watching sci-fi on TV, reading contemporary fantasy, working on the vegetable garden, or haunting Television Without Pity, Twitter, or Facebook on the internet.
Smalltyme Cardigans is a tiny kennel-without-a-kennel in Warren, Maine. I chose "Smalltyme" not only for my last name, but also because I will never be a big-time breeder. My dogs live in the house, climb on the furniture, heckle the cats, and go hither and yon with me. They also compete in conformation, obedience and agility. I hope to breed my first litter of puppies in late 2010/early 2011. Thanks for visiting!