Strictly Smalltyme - Home of Smalltyme Cardigans

New Name and Blog

2012-01-04T20:50:00.000-05:00

Smalltyme Cardigans is now Kaleidoscope Cardigan Welsh Corgis. Please see the shiny new blog here: http://kaleidoscopecardigans.wordpress.com/

Sigh...

2011-07-22T12:23:00.002-04:00

There are some people who just shouldn't have dogs. That is all.

Picking which side of the fence

2011-07-08T08:49:00.000-04:00

Okay: Decision made.

Before the scheduled spay/sudden heat debacle, my plan had been to attend Western Reserve and, at that time, look at an exciting 14-month old bitch on which there is the prospect of a co-own. Having bounced back and forth over the fence roughly 3,256,913 times since Elli came into season on Sunday, I have decided to stick with that plan.

If I decide against the co-own on this bitch, and don't find some other arrangement while I am at the specialty, I will x-ray Elli's hips, etc. before her winter heat, and assuming all is well, will breed her then. (I'll admit to having gotten a little excited at the prospect of having little ones.)

So, as ever, stay tuned!

The best-laid plans...

2011-07-04T09:18:00.000-04:00

So, last week I made an appointment for Elli to be spayed this Wednesday.

Yesterday, she came into season -- THREE WEEKS EARLY.

I had joked that if she came in before her spay then I was going to take it as a sign and breed her. Fate appears to have called my bluff.

Stay tuned...

Feedback Needed

2011-06-28T12:08:00.000-04:00

Since I generally change my mind every five minutes and have a hard time making a decision about what to have for lunch, I'm looking for some feedback.

I am considering doing a test breeding to see what I might get from Elli. Even if there are no conformation-ring superstars in the litter, I'm confident that all will be sound and athletic, and there should be some very good performance prospects.

However, I'm a little worried that, with the economy being what it is, there may not be enough prospective puppy buyers. Also, the puppies would be ready to go to their new homes around the end of November/first of December -- not the world's most ideal time to bring home a new puppy.

Does anyone have any advice/comments/suggestions?

5 year-old Cardi available

2011-06-20T09:56:00.000-04:00

Hey, long time no post!! I know, I'm horrible. If there was anything worth blogging about going on w/r/t the dogs, I'd blog it.

In the meantime, I have an acquaintance who is looking to place her 5 year-old male Cardigan. Prince is neutered, terrific w/ people, but would prefer not to live in a house with a bunch of other dogs (some of whom are Poodles, so really, I'm not holding that against him).

Photo and details available on request. Drop me an email at daynadsmall@gmail.com

The Red-Headed Stepchild

2010-11-22T09:45:00.004-05:00

It appears the Cardi clan will soon have a new "step-sister," and I'm afraid she's going to be a fluffy:

Introducing... Anna! What the hell am I doing with a Collie? Funny you should ask.

I have a friend and co-worker who has been looking for another show-potential Collie bitch, as the first one she purchased didn't quite make it. In discussing what she was looking for with one breeder, the breeder said she'd like a guarantee that the puppy would in fact be shown and a good effort made to finish it. My friend, who is older and on a limited income, was honest and said that she could not guarantee that, as she herself is not really able to run a dog around the ring, and a professional handler was not in the budget.

Soooooooooooooo...

Has your mouth ever up and said stuff without swinging by your brain to say "howdy" first? Just me? Okay, then. Anyway, my mouth up and offered to co-own the puppy with my friend and show it, for a puppy back when she breeds her. (And by "puppy back" I mean the proceeds therefrom, because seriously, I do NOT need a Collie.)

I guess that means that, between now and when Anna comes of show age, I have a LOT to learn about show-grooming a Collie. And I need to find some handling classes and figure out the transport to and from, and there will need to be some overnight visits so we're well-acquainted come show time, and there's a whole new set of people and politics and unwritten rules that I need to learn, and...

Damn, my mouth gets me in a lot of trouble.

tap tap tap Is this thing on?

2010-11-10T14:03:00.002-05:00

Yeah, so, all evidence to the contrary, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. Just having a lot of things that suck right now, and I tend to go quiet when that happens. I'm working on plans for things to be less sucky, though.

The dogs, however, do not suck. They keep me sane. Or, you know, less crazy than I would be otherwise. Cardigans = better than Prozac.

I took the boys to the Springfield shows in October. (Elli came along for the ride.) I showed Magnum on the Friday and Sunday for another Reserve and another major Reserve; Ian took the major Reserve on Saturday. Magnum is showing this weekend at Fitchburg and in two weeks back in Springfield. After that, I will likely be laying him off for a while; he's at That Age and the fuglies are fast approaching. I doubt I'll meet the desired goal of finishing him before he's a year old, but I can't wait to see how he morphs from a tubey, leggy, gangly puppy into a gorgeous, charming grown-up.

All of my protests aside, I would really like to get those last two points on Ian, so I may drag him back into the show ring while Magnum is on hiatus to see if he can finally pick them up. I don't know if that makes me stubborn or just plain stupid. :-/

Elli is now attending a Sunday agility practice in addition to her weekly class. The Sunday practice is great because it's held in a horse arena and there is space to set up a full-sized course, unlike at class. Consequently she's improving a lot on coursing as opposed to just working specific objects and skills. I still feel like she's a little "handler-capped", but Thom assures me that if I can't/don't want to try and title her myself, he will handle her to a title for me. Yay Thom!!

However, Elli may be taking a little time-out for motherhood duties, because I've about 80% decided to breed her when she comes back into season, probably in February. If I do, the sire will be Fudge (CH Trudytales About Last Night, ROMS). He has -- and produces -- many of the things that I'd like to improve on Elli. He has also produced well with both her mother and her grandmother, and I'm pretty excited to see what may come of it. It will be an all-black litter, and irregardless of whether I get a conformation super-star out of it, I DO expect sound, athletic, drivey puppies. If all falls into place, I should have puppies ready to go to their new homes in June.

Saving the Cute for Last

2010-09-23T13:52:00.002-04:00

Awwwwwwwwwwwww...

Apparently I hadn't dumped the camera for a while, as this is a much littler Magnum flopped in my lap. Yes, those are frogs on my pajamas. Yes, they're purple. Yes, they're wearing nightcaps. No, I don't know either. My mother bought them for me. Don't judge.

Can you even stand the widdle paw under his widdle face?

This is what happens when you leave both the camera and your mother unattended in the hotel room. Clearly Magnum was stressed and traumatized by his first dog show/hotel experience.

So, you know how, when kids are little, they can be uber-embarassing? And you find yourself praying for the day when childhood turns to adolescence, when suddenly the tables turn, and your children suffer profound mortification just by virtue of the fact that they HAVE parents?

Yeah, that doesn't so much work for dogs. But if it did, behold Exhibit Number One in the blackmailing of Magnum:

Yes, I'm going to hell.

Pool Time Antics

2010-09-23T13:45:00.003-04:00

So it's not the Ritz-Carlton of dogdom. More like the Motel 6 version. But at least the dogs have a pool to jump in and cool off.

Three corgis, one Kong. You do the math.

Magnum may have the pool to himself, but Ian still has the Kong. And, also: Can I take a kiddie pool into the show ring to self-stack my dog?

Screw apples. We bob for Kongs.

"Ugh! That water is WET!!"

Instant Crazy -- just add water! Psycho Magnum, turning on the Manson lamps.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, they're off!

How to have a good roll

2010-09-23T13:28:00.003-04:00

Ah, the things you find when you finally dump the contents of your camera's memory card...

How to have a good roll in the grass:

First, you drop the Kong and throw yourself onto your side;

Then you drive the top of your head into the ground and arch your back as much as you can;

Then you roll the other way -- and notice the silly person sitting on the ground and pointing the camera at you.

After that, you right yourself and feel somewhat sheepish that your antics were caught on film/digital media.

Finally, you gather your dignity about you like a cloak and gaze intently at the woodline, pretending to guard the yard from the predations of squirrels and wild turkeys.

Photos from Macungie

2010-09-23T08:23:00.003-04:00

Beauty treatment, dog show style

Kathy Schwabe's Morgan, looking very dignified and stoic. The watermelon on top of Ella's crate was well-travelled and, alas, was not destined to be eaten at Saturday's luncheon either.

Uno, wondering why Tiffany is messing with his tail

Magnum, waiting for his turn at the spa. That's Kate's Ella on top, focusing her cyborg eye on Uno with laser precision. Ah, blue love, forbidden love.

Majors and x-rays and training, oh my!

2010-09-22T08:54:00.003-04:00

Magnum and I had a terrific weekend in Macungie, PA. Gorgeous weather and great friends. The park made for a nice show site (though the parking was a little cramped), and there were way more vendors than I expected (shopping!!). Best of all, Magnum picked up his second major, as well as another major Reserve. I am psyched that he is doing so well from the 6-9 month class. His next set of shows will be in Springfield in October, where he will graduate from kindergarten and move up to the 9-12 month class, that weekend marking his 9-month birthday. Go, little blue man!!

Also in October, Elli and Magnum will be headed to Dr. Davis in Augusta, ME, for hip x-rays. Dr. Davis has been recommended to me by several breeders, and I am delighted to find that he does not anesthetize to do the films. Fingers crossed that all goes well and that I have four nice-looking hips.

Aaaaaaaand, pending those results, I may have spring litter plans to announce. Stay tuned!!

As for training, I need to set some goals for everyone. Ian is the easiest: he will be shown one more time in conformation this October, and then, regardless of the outcome, he will go in for the Big Snip. I love him to death, but I have no plans to breed him, and I don't want to chance a whoops between him and his sister. I will schedule that for this winter. In the meantime, I need to get him out and practice practice practice his Open obedience exercises. He earned one CDX leg last November (we won't talk about his score), and I would like to enter him at the Thanksgiving shows again this year to see if we can pick up another. I'd love it if he picked up both, but hey, let's not get crazy here. When and if he finishes his CDX, I hope to find someone local to help me start training him for tracking. I don't think he's going to have what it takes to make it through Utility, much as I would love to complete a UD on someone so that I can work toward the qualifications for becoming an AKC obedience judge.

Which leads into training plans for Elli. I really want to see her earn an AKC agility title. I know she has the ability, in spades. I'm not so sure that I have it, however. My trainer has offered to work with her and put the title on her when he starts attending AKC trials with his Aussie, so I may consider that if I don't feel my own skills have come up to snuff. I feel like the poor dog is "handler-capped." Either way, trialing will wait until after motherhood duties, assuming that I'm going to proceed with a breeding.

I also have high hopes for Elli in the obedience ring. We have not done much formal training since we've been focused on agility with her, but unlike her brother, Elli WANTS to work. Even in her basic puppy obedience class she showed much greater focus and precision that Ian. I think she has great potential if I don't screw her up, and she DOES have the ability to earn a UD. Time to start working on heeling and stays!

And Magnum: For now, the blue boy gets to play the "dumb breed dog" for a while, meaning we'll hold off on formal obedience training until after he finishes his championship. If the stars align and he finishes out of the puppy classes, then we'll start training after that, with an eye toward maybe a CD while he matures into what I hope will be a Specials dog down the line. With his outgoing and goofy personality, he has great potential to be Highly Entertaining in the obedience ring, so keep an eye out for his version of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, coming to a ring gate near you next summer or fall.

Fool's Gold

2010-09-14T08:16:00.003-04:00

I grew up with Golden Retrievers. My first introduction to the breed were Ginger and Holly, who belonged to a wonderful lady by the name of Maxine. Every day we saw her walk her two golden dogs, both of whom heeled well, happily accepted pets from strangers and children, wagged their tails at other dogs, and would walk easily even with a little kid holding the leash. Of course, these dogs were both UD and TDX dogs, but that meant nothing to me then.

The first Golden our family owned was Ryan. Ryan did not heel well; he was the original poster child for the bouncing-off-the-wall style of Golden. But he was friendly with everyone, and the only dog he ever had a tiff with was the Chihuahua-Terrier mix that we owned. I suspect it had far more to do with the mix's temperament than Ryan's. Ryan did actually earn a CD, even had a high-in-trial, I believe, but he never really did calm down. Still, he was a big old love of a thing.

Then came Chance, who was both innately more obedient and better-trained, my mom having cut her teeth, so to speak, on Ryan. A little softer than Ryan, Chance was friendly with people and dogs. She earned a CDX and a TD, and had that lovely Golden temperament.

Our next Golden arrived from the Yankee Golden Retriever Rescue. Roxy was an adult when she came to live with us, and despite whatever her former circumstances were, she again was lovely with people and dogs. Competitive obedience proved not to so much be her thing, not because she wasn't smart, but because she clearly prefered to play with her toys and lie across my dad's lap in his recliner. She would even take her front paw and softly pet his face. She was just a lovely family dog.

The fourth and final Golden was Jinx, so named for the minor fender bender Mom and Maxine had in the process of picking her up from the airport. Jinx was softer than the other three, and a little timid. She was socialized enough that she could go to shows and not have an issue with people or dogs, and she earned her CDX. She was shy around children, especially those who wanted to rush up to her on the street, but she was not aggressive. Not quite the "Golden" temperament, but a decent dog.

Unfortunately, my experience with the breed of late is a far cry from the dogs I knew in the past. I wrote of my experience earlier in the year when Elli was rushed by a Golden while we were out for our walk. This dog came flying out of its yard and crossed the street to go after Elli, who was leashed and on a public sidewalk. The Golden was not leashed and clearly not under voice control, and had no reason to come after us, as we were not even on its property. My only explanation is that it was clearly dog aggressive.

And then there was last night. There were four dogs at agility class: Elli; Pip, a Border Collie; Rosie, a Parson Russell Terrier; and Daisy, a Golden Retriever whom I hadn't seen at Thom's before. Thom had set up two sets of weave poles, one on either side of the room, and had us split up to practice on them, the taller dogs on one side and the shorter dogs on the other. Elli and Rosie were alternating turns on our set of weaves, and as Elli took a pass through, the Golden rushed her from the other side of the room.

This was not a Golden who wanted to play. She chased Elli, tried to go after her, and didn't ease up even when Elli cowered down and yelped. Thom was able to grab Elli up and away from the Golden before I could, and before the woman who owned the Golden managed to come and grab her dog.

Fortunately, Elli was able to get back down and go back to the weaves, so hopefully this won't become an issue for her on that particular piece of equipment.

But, WTF?

So: Dear Golden Retrievers of the World: I am very, very sorry that the puppy millers and backyard breeders have given you bad hips, sent cancer running rampant through your breed, and destroyed the lovely temperaments that you used to be known for. However, my corgi is not responsible for any of that, so please stop attacking her. By all means, feel free to bite said puppy millers and backyard breeders. They deserve it.

And, Dear Owners of Dog-Aggressive Dogs of the World: When you are working your dog in a room where multiple dogs are working, please do not take your aggressive dog off leash. It's dangerous, it's irresponsible, and it's rude. The next time your dog comes after mine, I will kick it in the head. Hard. And then I will kick YOUR dim-witted ass.

That is all.

My hubby is awesome!

2010-09-11T11:40:00.003-04:00

...because, among many other reasons, he built me this equipment rack to house all of my dog equipment:

No more shuffling things all over the garage. No more pawing through stacks of things to find what I want. No more tripping over this or that while trying to reach over a three foot high stack of other crap. Now I can just back the car up to the garage door, grab what I need out of the rack, and pack it in. Heaven!!

Even better? Knowing everything has a spot when I come home from a weekend of shows, so it will all be ready to go the next time I need it.

Hubbies rock!

Um...

2010-09-09T09:13:00.002-04:00

I think he has a toy fetish.

New visuals of the Mag-Man

2010-09-08T21:22:00.006-04:00

For once, I actually remembered to take my camera to handling class (I know, right?), which was fortuitous, since I was the only one who showed up. My friend and instructor Donna played paparazzi to get some shots of Magnum, photo and video. Here is Himself, at 7 and a half months.

And, links to the videos on Youtube, since Blogger is apparently going to take roughly 523.87 years to load and embed the video in the post.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1psIjROXnLY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_yAZ1gQSe4

This is what Magnum thinks of all the red carpet treatment:

More brags on Magnum

2010-09-03T22:16:00.002-04:00

Just checked Joanna's blog, and apparently I don't brag fast enough, so allow me to rectify that right now. :-)

Magnum went WD/BOW/BOS yesterday for two points to add to the 3-point major he has. He picked up another Reserve today, so that's two wins and two Reserves in 5 shows. Not bad for a guy who's only 7 months old!

Magnum also received an invitation from Paula O'Donnell to be my Plus One at her gathering later this month (or maybe I'm his Plus One. Hmm.) I hope to have her go over him and give me her opinion. I know she's tough on dogs so I'll be shaking in my shoes, but I'm pleased as punch with him right now.

A humongous thanks to Joanna for letting me run away with this Magnum-ificent blue boy!

Hamster on wheel = My brain

2010-09-01T10:51:00.004-04:00

So, I finally sat and watched some of the DVDs from Nationals this past weekend, including the Am. Bred class that Elli was in. I rarely get to see how my dogs are moving, being on the other end of the leash and all, so this allowed me to see what she looks like in the ring.

And now, I'm majorly stressing myself out.

What I know: I don't like her front movement. What I don't know: What is throwing it off. Shoulder layback (or lack of same)? Short upper arm? Round rib cage that pushes the elbows out? I'm enough of a newb that I can't say for certain where exactly the problem lies. I'll be taking her along for the ride when I go to Macungie and will have an experienced breeder look at her there. I've also sent photos and video (and will be trying to take better video) to another breeder to see if she can share any insight with me.

But these questions lead to larger ones for me. I know there is no such thing as a perfect dog, and all of them will have some fault or another. My biggest question is where to draw the line when it comes to breeding? I mean, obviously I would look for a dog who would be most likely to correct her faults without introducing new ones that I don't already have. But there has to be a point where you say I'm not going to try to correct all this; let's go a different way.

I just don't know where that point is. My little hamster-in-the-wheel brain keeps spinning and spinning. Do I breed her? To this dog or that dog? Can I realistically expect to improve on her? Will anyone buy one of the puppies? Will other exhibitors point and say, "Look at her, she bred that bitch that she couldn't even put points on!" And yeah, what other people are going to say and a collection of ribbons (or lack thereof) shouldn't be the driving force behind my decision making, and it isn't, but I know how the dog show world works well enough to know that there may be at least some of that.

Or, if I decide not to breed her, where do I go from here? Buy another bitch puppy from a promising litter? Look to buy an older puppy so I have a better idea of what I'm getting? Lease a bitch? Pay for the stud-fee and co-breed a litter with someone who has a bitch I like? Wait to see how Magnum turns out and hope that someone wants to breed to him and take a puppy back? And if I do that, do I try to title Elli in agility myself, or place her in a performance home with someone who is way better at or more committed to agility and herding than I am?

I know, I know, we all have to start somewhere. Most people don't start with a Nationals-winning bitch, and I don't expect to be the exception. But I DO take breeding seriously, and I want to make sure I'm doing it in a way that produces sound, healthy, quality dogs, and in a way that is up front and can be respected by my peers. That's the only way to build a solid foundation for the future.

*spin spin spin whirl whirl whirl*

Gah! Thoughts? Comments? Observations? Am I just being a total spaz who needs to calm the eff down and stop worrying and over-analyzing everything to death? Someone throw me a bone!

I am a slave to technology. And, O.M.F.G.!

2010-08-24T12:21:00.005-04:00

And... scene: We open on a rustic [No -- like, seriously rustic] log cabin, nestled amongst the pines on a Maine pond. A big stone chimney juts out of the rooftop, hinting at the grand hearth below. A screen porch overhangs the water, giving a panoramic view of [the tree branches that occlude] the water. Spiders [who escaped from the movie 8-LEGGED FREAKS] spin their webs under the eaves, angling for unwary mosquitos and deerflies and small children and moose. Eagles are flying. Songbirds are singing. Squirrels are haranguing everyone from their treetop perches. Bullfrogs are... um, bullfrogging.

Suddenly, the peaceful landscape is shattered by a blood-curdling scream: "I HAVE NO WIRELESS INTERNET ACCESS!!!!!!!!"

So, yeah. That was my week-long vacation. In a cabin. In Washington County, Maine. With no TV (and y'all KNOW how I feel about THAT) and no internet. Then what is there to do in Washington County, Maine, you might ask? Nothing, that's what.

It took around 4 to 4 1/2 hours to get there -- once we stopped three times along the way to pick up things we had forgotten at the house; we were also following Route 1 and the bulk of the summer tourist influx, the bulk that wanted to putter along at 35 mph. Seriously, people, I know you're from Utah or some shit, but really, just how fascinating is a clump of trees? You see that long, skinny pedal on the right hand side? Please feel free to use it.

Once we arrived and started unpacking the cooler, I realized that I'd forgotten the chicken thighs for the dogs' breakfasts. Back out to the car and the GPS unit to locate the nearest grocery store. That would be the one 12 miles away in Eastport, thankyouverymuch.

Still, you gotta love the GPS unit. It can get you anywhere. Provided you don't mind going down narrow, winding dirt roads (and I use the term road very liberally here) to get there.

Which is just exactly what it sent us down on Monday in our attempt to see the Reversing Falls in Pembroke. I was pretty sure the Magellan had finally snapped and was sending us to our doom at the hands of some backwoods redneck pirates or something, when a red Caravan happened upon us. The van did NOT contain a serial killer or tragic inbred demonic clown firestarter (suck it, Stephen King), but a helpful gentleman who got us to where we wanted to be. Turns out there were very respectable paved roads we could have taken to get there if the GPS hadn't been intent on our demise.

On Tuesday, we went to tour the town of Lubec. After that five minutes was overwith... Unfortunately, that was the only day it rained, so there were no harbor seals sunning themselves on the rocks in the harbor. I went into a Yarn Store/Dog boutique (yeah, I don't know either) and discovered that the proprietor was an exhibitor of Bernese Mountain Dogs. Hey! I found one of my people! Lunch and then visits to two handmade chocolate stores. Bad for our figures, and bad for our checkbooks, but our tastebuds were very happy, hedonists that they are.

On Wednesday, we set out for the thriving Metropolis of Machias, Maine. Hey, don't laugh. After several days in the woods it SEEMED like a thriving metropolis. I mean, there was a McDonald's and everything!! That's cool, right? To which I must answer:

0_0

OMG WTF, Machias?!!!

First, there was the big hole in the middle of Route 1 that necessitated a flagger to direct traffic to the detour. This is not a tough job, right? Send them down one road, turn them away from another...? Yeah, not so much. We turned down a little side street to visit some shops (again: term... loosely...), only to be told by the flagger that we could not turn right (which was the direction of the big hole, so... duh). He also said that we could not turn left, we had to go back the way we came. So, he was at THAT end of the street why, exactly? We were, however, able to pull into a parking place and walk to the shops. Hit a thrift store and picked up a Nora Roberts book I hadn't read yet for $1, so yay!

Once we pulled out of there and went back up the street by the flagger again, we went through town to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things. Cue clueless, drifting fellow shoppers who walk in front of you and then stop in your path as they stare vacantly off into the distance. And the cashier who can't make change, despite the register that, um, makes change. "Here's your sign..."

THEN there was the little used book... well, it's in the guy's garage, so "store" doesn't really apply. But it looked pleasant and not axe murdery or anything, so we pulled in.

Oh. My. Effing. God.

"Hi welcome don't mind the laundry I can move it can I get you a glass of iced tea where are you from oh Warren do you know my cousin so-and-so she lives down the road past the bridge came here to visit her seven years ago and had to move to Maine I'm from Ohio ever been to Ohio hey I have all these Maine books books about Maine books by Maine authors the labels are all there but the books are all over I taught Special Ed in Ohio have you ever been to Ohio oh I sent a copy of that book to my church I'm Lutheran I have religion books here the floor is really sloping from the weight of these books..."

You get the drift. I don't think I have ever been so dangerously close to completely losing my filter altogether. I mean, dude! First of all, calm the eff down. Second of all, you don't get out much, or live with people, or talk to anyone anywhere except on the internet, do you? Third, we just told you we're from Maine. We don't give a shit where the Maine books are. Fourth, don't tell me how the book in my hand, which I'm planning on purchasing, ends. Fifth, no, I've never been to Ohio, as I told you five times. Sixth, I don't know everyone and every street in Warren. And seventh, calm the holy effing eff down! You are like a ferret crossed with a meerkat crossed with a Jack Russell Terrier who drank 27 red bulls and snorted an entire busload of coke.

I finally grabbed two books, threw some money at him, and got the hell out of Dodge, him trying to direct me in backing my car up the whole time. Jeebus H. Mother-loving tap-dancing Christ!

After that we decided no more "shops." Just Quizno's for lunch and back to the sticks. But wait!! There's not actually a Quizno's there anymore, they just left the big sign up and the letters on the building. Puttin' the "No' in Quizno's. Back into town, playing dodge the flagger, to a little restaurant. Which at least turned out to have good food. Even if the lobster tank we were sitting next to continued to make, uh, shall we say digestive noises all through our meal.

Wow, Machias. Just... wow.

We did end up coming home Thursday night instead of Friday like we had planned. I think I would have cried if we'd had to stay any longer.

I WILL say, though, that the fireplace was really, really nice, as was making s'mores and taking the dogs for walks and canoeing around and playing badminton and spending lots of one-on-one time with my long-suffering hubby.

But next vacation? I hope it's at a dog show.

Better Late than Never

2010-08-12T10:26:00.002-04:00

Okay, so I'm a little late posting this, but I'm still excited about it. :-)

On Sunday, Magnum made his ring debut in Keene, NH, at the tender age of 6 months, 2 weeks. Ian was entered as well; I wasn't anticipating much of an entry and figured that way I'd create my own single point. As it turned out, we ended up with a 3-point major in dogs.

The trip over was about 4 hours. Picture if you will: a Scion xB with a 300 and a 400 size crate, 3 people, 3 dogs, ex-pen, grooming table, lunch coolers, grooming bag, 6 x 8 mat, hair dryer, and three chairs. Dude, I should totally be featured in one of their vehicle brochures. You really can cram a LOT of crap into an xB. The park has lots of shade, so I was able to park and set up grooming in the shade right outside the car. No carting items to a grooming tent. So I got set up and went to work.

Now, I had purchased an inverter for my car so that I could (theoretically) run the Air Force dryer, which makes froofing the dogs for the show ring a lot easier. I turned the car on, plugged in the dryer, and... Yeah, not so much. The inverter itself works, but the dryer apparently sucks up more electricity than the inverter can handle. So, no hair dryer. Rats. I did what grooming I could without one. Thank doG for the "Superman cape" I bought Ian at the National this year; it did a great job laying his curls down. Magnum is more wash and wear, so he was easier.

Once we went into the ring, Magnum did better on the table than I expected -- he accepted the judge looking at his teeth quite well, and only wiggled a little bit. He was a little sillier on the ground than I thought he'd be. (Not totally unheard of in the 6-9 puppy class.) I think we managed to get at least a few good steps in there for the judge to look at. He accepted the judge looking at his teeth quite well, and only wiggled a little. He was the only one in his class, so he got his automatic blue ribbon.

There was one other dog in the Open class with Ian. As I expected, he ended up in second place. There is one other set of shows in October that I will enter him in, and then he's off to the vet for the Big Snip, whether he's finished or not. Sorry, Ian. Oh well. At least I didn't have to hand someone off for Winners.

So into Winners I went with Magnum. Magnum focused on me despite the other dogs in the ring, and it was going well until I realized that the other dogs had gone around the ring while I was standing there focusing on getting my puppy to self-stack. Jeez. The judge very nicely had me take him around the ring rather than just booting my non-attention-paying arse to the end of the line. Magnum again had some of the puppy sillies going on, but the judge must have seen enough that he liked, because he awarded Magnum Winner's Dog for the major!!

Now, I really like my puppy and see lots of potential, but I honestly wasn't expecting him to win under that judge, especially once I had my monumental ADD moment. So, way to go, Little Blue Man!!! Right now you're batting 1.000!

Next set of shows for the Mag man is the 28th and 29th in Springfield. Fingers crossed that lightning will strike twice!

Still the boss

2010-07-29T11:45:00.003-04:00

With two un-neutered males in the house, along with an intact bitch who should theoretically be coming into season any time now, I've been eagle-eyeing the boys' interactions lately.

Magnum acts like the goofy puppy he still is 99% of the time, but he's lifting his leg more to urinate (not that it makes any difference with a corgi, but we won't tell him that), and he's starting to show boy-girl interest in Elli. In terms of status, he clearly sees her as an equal: he goes toe-to-toe with her playing chase games, they rough-house constantly, he tries pulling her out of the pool by her tail, and toys are catch-as-catch-can between the two of them.

When Magnum is not rough-housing with Elli, he is tagging along after his big bro. It's quite funny to watch; Ian stops to sniff where Elli peed, so Magnum does. Ian goes over to the hosta and lifts his leg on it, so Magnum does. Ian goes to check out the limb that fell off of the tree overnight, so Magnum does... you get the point. When Ian runs for the house, he usually has Magnum attached to his flank, literally -- Ian is in a constant state of slobbered-on from the puppy. Magnum jumps in his face, grabs his rough, hamstrings him... basically, he does every wretched Little Brother thing he can think of to get Ian's attention.

To be honest, I've been growing concerned and hoping for one of them to put Magnum in his place. He's the baby of the family and accustomed to getting away with childish behavior with Ian and Elli, but that sort of rudeness is NOT going to fly with a stranger. He's been to puppy class and done well socializing with other puppies, but I have visions of him trying his brat routine on another adult, and getting sidelined from the show ring while we wait for stitches to heal. But how do you encourage the adult dogs to put him in his place?

Apparently, I need to worry less, and trust my dog more.

This morning, while I was drinking my coffee, I watched Elli and Magnum trading off the current high value item in the household: an elk antler. First Magnum would have it, then he would grow complacent and Elli would snatch it. A few minutes later, he'd snatch it back from her. Rinse, lather, repeat. After about 15 minutes of this, I heard Magnum give his high-pitched yalp (yap + yelp), the one that sounds mysteriously like, "But... Mommmmmmmmmmmm!" I looked down. All three dogs were lying on the floor, Magnum with the antler between his paws. Ian lay about 18 inches away. Not doing anything. Not moving to take the antler. Not growling or curling his lip. Just looking at Magnum. Magnum gave a few more half-hearted, "No fair! I'm gonna tell! Pretty pleeeeeaaaase?!" yalps, then sulked off to the toy basket to go find a bone. Ian calmly and with great dignity hunkered down to enjoy the antler.

Magnum may be on the cusp of awkward adolescence, but Ian is clearly still The Man In Charge.

Street Legal!

2010-07-22T08:00:00.002-04:00

It's somebody's 6-month birthday today! Magnum will be making his show ring debut at the Keene, NH show on August 8. No, I'm not expecting him to do a whole lot out of the 6-9 month class, but it will be good practice and experience for him. Let the games begin!

Short game, long game, big picture, little picture...

2010-07-13T07:54:00.002-04:00

I had a great (and stress-free!) time in Springfield this past weekend. I had no dogs entered, and I had only Magnum with me to introduce him to the indoor show environment. There was a good-sized entry there, and some dogs whom I hadn't seen before, as well as lots of friends and acquaintances. I even got to have the Best of Breed ribbon handed to me, though it had nothing to do with me personally -- Karen's Lexi went WB, and she was showing Brady as a Special, so I took Lexi back in for BoB. Despite her behaving atrociously for me and me not really trying to make her look good in an attempt to have WD goes BoW for the cross-over points, Lexi took Best of Breed anyhow. I guess the judge just really knew what she wanted. Oops.

Also over the weekend, I had a totally unexpected and amazing offer from someone to take Elli this fall to show and hopefully finish, since I've been unsuccessful thus far in putting any points on her. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Elli would have a much better chance of finishing this way, as the offer came from a successful long-time handler and Cardi breeder.

All of which got me thinking about the short game versus the long game, the big picture versus the little picture, and why exactly I'm in this sport/hobby.

When I first started out showing Ian, I was a nervous wreck, emphasis on wreck. So after showing him a couple of times, I asked someone to handle him at a set of shows for me, and I learned something about myself that weekend: I didn't want to be a spectator to my own dog. As it turned out, we didn't take any points home that weekend, but I did take away a renewed commitment to show Ian myself and to try and finish my own dog. Though we haven't gotten those elusive last two points, and may not if I do indeed retire him at this time, I'm proud that I've come as far as I have in learning to handle, and that I've done it myself through trial and error, and by learning from some of the best and most generous peers and competitors in the Cardi world that one can hope for.

But now, there's Elli. While I didn't take Ian with the express purpose of having a show dog, I DID purchase Elli to be a show dog and a foundation bitch. There are a lot of things I like about her as a breedable bitch: she has a nice rear and croup, nice topline, a flat coat with no curl in it, a sound stance, a pretty profile, a whip-smart brain, and TONS of drive. She is also out of a bitch who produced well, was ridiculously fertile, and who whelped three big litters (11, 9 and 9 respectively) without complication, traits that I fervently hope she has passed on to her daughter. When I watch Elli run around the yard freely, doing regular doggy things, I am astonished by her agility, her ability to pour on tremendous speed and yet turn on a dime. When she stops and alerts on something, she freestacks herself beautifully, showing that her structure is sound and it is comfortable for her to use herself that way.

Elli has some strikes against her in the show ring, however. Though she is perfectly within standard at 27 pounds, when I look around the Open Bitch ring she is invariably the smallest girl in there. She is not at all flashy; she is small and black with a narrow white blaze and no white collar on her show side. She's a little longer on leg than is ideal, which gives her that light, free, agile movement, but which doesn't give her that perfect low, low Cardigan silhouette. Her shoulder is straighter than I would like, and her front movement looks a little choppy because of it.

What is interesting to me is that there have been only three judges whom I felt have really looked at Elli, while the others glanced at her in the line-up and didn't pay her much attention otherwise beyond the obligatory (and often cursory) table exam. One of those three judges saw her in a puppy class, and did not award her Winners but did tell me that she felt she would be nice when she matured, and that she would KILL for Elli's attitude. The second judge was our Nationals judge, who looked at Elli quite often in the ring and who awarded her second in her class at the National. The third was a judge up here in Maine just recently, who was very thorough with all of the entries she saw that day, who actually had me move Elli down and back again when she came back into the ring to compete for Reserve, and who DID award her the Reserve ribbon.

All of that has been a little frustrating. I recognize Elli's faults, but I also see her virtues, and I don't feel like most judges look to find them when they have bigger, typier bitches in the ring with her. In addition to her own faults and lack of flashiness, she has ME in the ring with her, and who am I in the dog show world? No one, that's who.

So, also frustrating is the acknowledgement that having the afore-mentioned, long-time handler and Cardi breeder show Elli WILL get her looked at. I mean, the judges aren't supposed to be looking at that end of the leash, right?

But, we all know they do. And that's where the big picture/little picture, short game/long game consideration comes in. If my only goal were to see my dog friends on weekends and go into the ring to participate and be a part of something, no matter win or lose, then it would be fine to keep showing Elli myself. However, my goal IS to breed sound, drivey, and typey Cardigans with good temperament, and to do that I want to have access to the kind of stud dogs who will improve on those areas where Elli needs improvement and who will allow me to better my stock as I move forward. To do that, the opportunity for a championship and to have Elli seen by more people is a golden one, and one that I should definitely take.

That's the big picture. That's the long game. It means that Elli will leave my house for what may be several months, months during which her agility training will take a back burner and she won't be in my home, on my bed, woo-wooing at me in the morning and making me laugh every day. But it also means that she may come home with the CH in front of her name, and she may get to date a star quarterback rather than a second-string wide receiver. Will it be worth it?

I sure hope so.

Mom Guilt

2010-06-29T08:40:00.002-04:00

I've been asked at various times by various people just how much difference there is between having one dog and having two dogs. I've also been asked how much difference there is between having two dogs and more than two dogs. I've begun measuring that difference in levels of guilt.

One Dog: Guilt at a 2 on a scale of 1-10. One Dog gets all of my dedicated dog time. All of the classes -- sometimes three a week; all of the treats; all of the toys; automatic lap time; and the best spot on the bed. One Dog goes to all of the dog shows with me, and gets the cookies and french fries when we go through a drive-thru. There is a little guilt that I have to go off to work all day and leave One Dog at day care or at home. There is also a little guilt that One Dog doesn't have one of his own species to play with and to keep him company when the humans aren't home.

Two Dogs: Guilt at a 3 on a scale of 1-10. Two Dogs have to share the dog time. Two Dogs may only go to one class a week instead of two or three. The guilt-trip ante is upped when one goes out the door and the other stays behind, gazing forlornly out the window from the back of the couch she's not supposed to be on anyway. (Elli, I'm looking at you.) They have to share toys and treats. They have to vie for lap time and jockey for position on the bed. Two Dogs have to share the drive-thru spoils, or may in fact not get any at all if there is also equipment in the car so they have to be crated. Some of the guilt is alleviated, though, when the humans have to leave, because at least they have one another for company.

Three-Plus Dogs: Guilt takes a sharp leap up to a 7 or 8 on a scale of 1-10. Now the dog time is split three or more ways, and someone may not get to go to a class at all. Now when one is playing with a toy, he has to guard it from two others, who will inevitably tag team him, one making a feint for it and the other grabbing it while he defends against the first. Treats aren't always so forthcoming, because now there has to be enough to go around. The lap becomes a battlefield, sometimes to the extent that no dogs are allowed up there, just to preserve the human's sanity. Chaos ensues over the best bed spots. Forget the drive-thru -- the human who belongs to Three-Plus Dogs can't afford take-out anymore and has to pack her own lunch. When the humans leave, all dogs have to stay behind the gate in the kitchen, since the youngest can't be trusted yet to behave himself, and the humans don't think it's fair to split up the Three-Plus Dogs and let the older ones stay in the living room. Guilt! Training time for each dog dwindles to smaller and smaller amounts. Sometimes someone doesn't even get any practice between weekly classes, and that's if he/she still HAS a weekly class. guilt Guilt GUILT!!!

Folks, I may as well convert to Catholicism, I have so much guilt. Guilt that Ian isn't going to a weekly class anymore, despite the fact that the one he was going to really wasn't working on the Open exercises we need to perfect to get those other two CDX legs. Guilt that his conformation career is over without getting that CH in front of his name. Guilt that I'm considering neutering him to make things easier with bitches in heat and other intact males, when I've read studies that show it may be better for a male dog's long-term health to leave him intact. Guilt that Magnum isn't getting the kind of one-on-one attention that the others got when they arrived. Guilt that I won't be taking him to obedience or agility class right off because I want to focus on the much-less-fun-for-him conformation training right now.

Most especially, I have mucho grande guilt that Elli is only getting agility training once a week when we go to class, because I don't have agility equipment at home and won't be affording any at any time in the near future. Guilt that I haven't been able to start her on herding, which I had hoped to do this spring. Guilt that I have this dog who would probably be a superlative dog for someone who had a farm and stock to work, or for someone who was an agility fiend who wanted a MACH and a CPE championship and umpteen bazillion other titles from the 3,216 venues that are offering agility now. She is SO smart and she SO wants to work, and she's stuck with me, going to class once a week and getting pushed out of laps by velcro-clingy boys and just hanging with the pack instead of working most of the time.

I used to think it was awful that breeders kept dogs for a few years, bred them a few times, and then tossed them away to "retirement." I couldn't imagine how someone could raise a puppy -- show him, train him, breed him -- and then give him away. Why were they bothering to put all this time and energy and money into raising these dogs when they "obviously" didn't care about them?

I get it now. Good breeders don't place their retirees because they don't love them. They place them because they DO. Because there is someone else out there who DOES have time just for them, who WILL take them to all the classes, and give them all the toys and all the treats and and the lap and the bed and the french fries at the drive-thru. Good breeders place the needs of the dogs above their own selfish hearts, and when the right person and the right home comes along, they recognize it, and they cry, and they let them go.

And still, they feel guilty.

...to Grandmother's House We Go

2010-06-25T08:25:00.004-04:00

Magnum took a trip to Grammie's house sans the big kids last weekend, and so got to explore the garden accompanied only by Mabel, my in-laws tragically rotund mixed-breed.

Okay, this photo isn't of Magnum, but I freaking LOVE it. This was taken standing under the grape arbor and shooting up through the vines and leaves. It's my new favorite wallpaper on my computer.

Magnum checking out the... um, foliage of some sort. I think they were lilies.

Jungle safari!

Backyard spy plane? Miniature crop duster? You decide.

Okay y'all, remember Joanna's blog post wherein she resolves to post unflattering photos of her dogs? Yeah, it's like that. He's standing all wrong, his legs look like they go on for miles, and he appears to have no neck. But just look at that widdle face!

By the bed of... nasturtiums, I think?

I don't know what plant he's huffing, but it looks like some good shit!

Gratuitous flower porn.

Hangin' in the kitchen with Her Lumpiness while we make strawberry jam.

The (Reality) Check's in the Mail

2010-06-24T10:21:00.004-04:00

So, a couple of weeks ago, my husband suggested rather ominously that I needed to re-focus my priorities, or else. Apparently things like paying the mortgage and the household bills are supposed to take precedence over buying puppies, training classes and paying entry fees. How 'bout that.

It all set me to thinking about this crazy, wonderful, greedy hobby of showing dogs. It starts out innocently enough: you get a purebred dog because something about that breed appeals to you. You meet other people who have that breed; maybe you get involved in performance events. Or, maybe you are already familiar with the dog show scene because of family or friends, or prior experience.

One dog becomes two, and maybe that second one was purchased with the show ring in mind. He or she is decent conformation-wise. Maybe finishable, not necessarily spectacular. You want spectacular! You look for another puppy, or maybe you look to breed your own.

Along the way, you've managed to accumulate: a grooming table or two; multiple crates for each dog and for various stages of development; several crate pads for each of those crates; an ex-pen or three; enough grooming supplies to fill a shelf in your bathroom closet, if not the entire closet; leashes in every imaginable color, length and material; a special hair dryer just for the dogs; slip collars, buckle collars, show collars; bait bags; training equipment; a new wardrobe that shows your dog off to best advantage; and, most likely a new vehicle, the biggest you can afford to accommodate as many crates as you can.

Besides all of the stuff, you've paid for puppy kindergarten classes, basic obedience classes, agility classes, special seminars, vet bills, food bills... the list goes on.

Your furniture all looks like it (barely) survived the holocaust. There is dog hair in every corner and in every crack and crevice, because the vacuum will only get in there so far. Your woodwork has been nibbled, your floors are scratched up, and there are dead, yellow spots all over your yard. You no longer remember what it's like to walk across the living room floor without stubbing your toe on a bone, nor how to go to the bathroom by yourself. People don't come to your house anymore, unless they are "dog show people" who also live like this.

How on earth did you get here?

Everyone says that insert breed here> are like potato chips: you can't have just one. And that's true, but I think there's more to it than that. For me, dog shows are, to put it simply, Home. The ring gates, the grooming tables everywhere, the lines of Samoyeds and Chinese Cresteds and the what-have-yous lined up waiting their turn... I walk into that environment and I know Where I Am. I know Who I Am. I know what I want, I know how I want to get there. It's where the very best in me comes out, where I get to make the conscious choice, every time, of what kind of competitor and what kind of peer I want to be. It's where I do my best to demonstrate good sportsmanship and where I give of myself in service to something greater than myself. It's the place where I hope to make a mark to show my passing, and to leave behind something better when I'm gone. It's my lifestyle. It's my life.

But life is comprised of other things, too: relationships with friends, with family, with spouses; jobs that buy the dog food, that pay for entries, and that, yes, need to pay the bills; all of the day to day minutiae that weaves together the tapestry of a life.

In the end, we all need to balance those elements. I need to learn to balance those elements. Reality, consider yourself checked. Let's get to know one another.

Hmm... elements... A Honda Element would be a good dog car...

A week shy of 5 months

2010-06-16T20:49:00.003-04:00

A whole ton of photos later, but only two that were usable. Apparently Magnum came with an extra side order of wiggles. I foresee much table work in our near future.

From the outside, looking in

2010-06-14T14:12:00.002-04:00

A couple of weeks ago this blog entry was floating around the blogosphere:

http://humanewatch.org/index.php/site/post/what_i_learned_at_the_dog_show/

The writer concluded that someone could object to a dog show on humane grounds if he/she had never attended one. As much as I wish that were true, I'm afraid I can't share her conclusion.

So let's play make believe: Imagine you have never been to a dog show in your life, have never met a hobby breeder, have never watched dog related shows, etc. Suppose your entire experience of dogs is your uncle's family pet, Scruffy McPooch. Scruffy is of no discernible breed. He spends his days running errands with your aunt and uncle, getting cookies from the drive-thru teller at the bank; he has his share of french fries from McDonalds, and rides with your uncle when he takes the trash to the dump every Saturday morning, getting half of your uncle's donut during the outing.

Scruffy's exercise is limited to a few trips to the backyard to potty each day, with an occasional tennis ball thrown to break up the monotony. He is doted on by your aunt and uncle, to the point where he is 30 pounds overweight from how much they "love" him. His coat is a little dry and he smells a little bit "doggy" because of course it's bad to bathe your dog too much. His toenails are so long he can barely walk anymore because cutting them "is just too upsetting for him." He has active gum disease and the attendant horrible breath because he's scarfing down a steady diet of Ole Roy kibble, donuts, Doritos, ice cream, potato chips, all the steak scraps etc., but Auntie and Uncle don't care when he crawls in their laps and pants that breath into their faces, because that's just Scruffy and they love and adore him.

Your uncle's couch has a worn afghan on one end so Scruffy can lie there, assuming he can get his fat, stinky, itchy self up there in the first place. Once he's up there, perhaps assisted in getting there, he gets tummy rubs and ear scratching and half the bowl of buttered popcorn. You've seen this all your life in one form or another, and to you, THIS is how dogs live, is what having a beloved family dog is all about.

And then, one day, you walk into a dog show.

Dogs!! They're everywhere!! Big ones; small ones; long, graceful ones; short, stocky ones... there are so many dogs all in one place. And they're in cages. Long lines of cages, some with the water spilled so the dog has to lie in it, because no one left him a crate pad. In some spots there are so many crates that they have to be stacked, little dogs on top of big dogs. Many of those dogs are barking -- well, wouldn't YOU if someone threw you in jail and took off? And don't they ever get fed? They're so skinny, they must be malnourished.

Not all of the dogs are in cages, though: some are standing on tables with nooses around their necks. The dogs are forced to stand there while their owners rub stuff on them, point high-speed dryers at them, making them sneeze when the gunk they just put all of over the dog gets blown up his nose. Some are being combed to within an inch of their lives, while others have simply been abandoned on the table, forced to stay there lest they hang themselves in jumping off.

There are some dogs on the floor, too. These are being led around on short leashes, unless the "handler" deems it more efficient to pull a dog along by it's wrapped ear to keep a collar from marring the coat they just spent hours building. These dogs are hauled around inside a ring, while a man or woman in the middle cranks their mouths open to look at their teeth, runs hands all over their bodies, and feels for testicles on the boy dogs. Some are put up on the accursed table again to suffer this indignity. When they come out of the ring, back they go to jail, except maybe for the one who came out of the ring with a purple and gold ribbon; he gets a brief furlough to get a mugshot before he has to go back to the cage.

And the people!! They're all totally indifferent to the suffering going on around them. They talk away at each other, about each other, ignoring all of the barking dogs as though they don't exist. They talk about "this bitch" and "that bitch" and gripe that the people in the rings wouldn't even know a good dog if one bit them.

You gape around in appalled amazement, and think about Scruffy, lying on the couch with his head in your uncle's lap, watching the game and sharing a bag of Cheetos. Then you high-tail it out of there with a horror story to tell all of your friends about "those crazy people and those poor, poor dogs."

Think I'm exaggerating? I've heard pretty much this exact reaction, from the owner of a Scruffy McPooch. And there are a LOT of Scruffy McPooch's out there.

Do you and I know that these "poor, caged dogs" are living like royalty at home? Sure. At least many, many, many of them are. Do we realize the consequences of feeding a poor quality food, of allowing our dogs to become obese, of too little exercise and too little grooming? You bet. Heck, we read articles and blog posts ad nauseum about it. Do we blithely stand by and watch dogs suffer? Of course not. But the horrified niece of Scruffy McPooch's owner doesn't know that. She just looks around at what she sees.

And what she sees -- what so many people like her see -- is not a pretty picture.

Nothing to see here...

2010-06-11T13:04:00.003-04:00

I know I've been quiet as of late, but there's not much dog-related news to report here. Elli continues with agility classes and may be ready to start trialing in CPE soon. Magnum is attending his first set of "big boy" obedience classes and is rocking it, except for that pesky stay exercise, because how on earth can I give him delicious cheese if he's over HERE and I'm over THERE? Herding lessons are still on the agenda but are somewhat on the back burner until more funding frees up.

The raw feeding is going swimmingly. I squeed out loud at the grocery store earlier this week when I found four packages of fresh, sliced beef heart -- AND chicken thighs were also on sale. Yahtzee!! When you realize that this is the highlight of your week, you probably need to talk with yourself about some things. Thom spoke a little bit at class the other night about nutrition, and I offered to talk with anyone and everyone interested in switching to raw. No zealot so fiery as a recent convert, huh?

In the competitive arena, I opted not to enter the shows in Cumberland on the 26th and 27th. Elli is naked -- NAKED!!! -- and I can't have her running around in public in her underwear. The scandal!! Britches? Nuh-uh. Two hairs, maybe three, tops. No neck frill or ruff whatsoever. Absolutely no plushiness to her coat, just topcoat with nada underneath it. As if she doesn't look small enough next to everybody else when she has a FULL coat! SO not taking her in the ring in two weeks. I'm not even sure I'm going to enter her at the Yankee Classic. That's only a couple weeks after Cumberland. How much coat can she grow between now and then?

And Ian... I think Ian is now retired from the conformation ring.

I've thought about this a lot the past three weeks. Argued back and forth with myself, with my mom, with my hubby, with my checkbook... What it ultimately comes down to is this: I will not be breeding Ian. I have no girl to breed to him, I'm not sure I'd use him even if I did, and there is no one else who wants to use him. While I would really like to have that title on the front end to balance the one on the back, I don't see it happening. It's mucho grande frustrating to leave him at 13 points, especially when he has three majors, but seriously, people.

It's been over a year since he's earned a point. In that time he had a back injury, and his movement, which was not stellar to begin with, is even less stellar now. I may briefly dominate, but will never win, the battle with his curls. His ears are too small and are set too high. He has a stuffy neck. And he's pushing four years old. If he couldn't finish in an embarassing 33 shows, then why continue to pursue it?

Still, it's been a learning process, and I picked up a whole lot of valuable knowledge along the way, knowledge that will help as I move forward with Elli and with Magnum. As training models go, Ian: You were awesome.

So what's next? I'll be swinging by the shows in Cumberland to watch and probably lend a hand holding leashes and whatnot, as anyone with a free hand at ringside is likely to find themselves doing. Magnum will go with me to continue his introduction to All Things Dog Show. I'll be going to Springfield for the Saturday and Sunday shows in July, whether or not I end up entering Elli. Magnum will go there as well for his first look at the Big E.

Later in July, there is a match in Bucksport that I plan to enter Magnum in, for ring practice and to provide lots of laughs for the folks ringside. I may also take Ian and work him in Open obedience (which I pray won't be quite as entertaining as Magnum's first time in the conformation ring. *gulp*) Hopefully we WILL finish up the CDX title on him, eventually.

In August, Magnum will make his ring debut in Keene, NH, hopefully with his sister Juno, and again to the likely hilarity of spectators. The next weekend, there is a 3-day set of shows in Fitchburg, MA. I've been invited by Cheryl, Brady's mother, to stay with her for the weekend, which would be terrific in that I'd get to work some with Brady and show him for BOB. Have I mentioned how much I like that boy? And also, hey! No hotel room!

Once Elli turns two in October, I will whisk her away for her hip x-rays. Fingers crossed that the results are favorable, and I can finalize my choice of suitors for her winter heat cycle.

Then there are the Thanksgiving shows to look forward to, but hey, let's not get TOO far ahead of ourselves.

So that's pretty much it right now at Casa Smalltyme. Exciting, huh?

The Day in Pictures

2010-05-31T18:26:00.005-04:00

The Prize

2010-05-26T11:24:00.002-04:00

Two corgis. One rawhide. An epic battle of wits and will.

"My rawhide!" "No, mine!" "Give it!!" "YOU give it!!"

When to say "When"

2010-05-24T13:51:00.004-04:00

Well, the shows at Wassamki came and went. Beautiful weather, lovely campground, good company... it was a very nice weekend. It was not a successful weekend, but it was very enjoyable.

There were three dogs entered each day, so I had hoped that Ian might come away with, if not both points he needs to finish, then at least one of them.

Um, yeah. Not so much. Not only did he not come away with a point, he didn't even come away with a Reserve. Now THAT is what we call being royally dumped at a dog show.

Elli came out of the weekend slightly better with one Reserve, finishing second in Open Bitches each day to her littermate, who was also Winners Bitch two of the three days. Congrats to Ah-Leah on her wins. I never have a lot of expectations for Elli in the ring; she is almost always the smallest one in there, and while she does have some nice qualities, many judges are going to look at her size compared to the rest and are not going to look any further. I need to find the judges who will. Regardless of whether I get her finished or not, she will be bred this winter on her January/February heat cycle (assuming she passes OFA), because I definitely see enough in her to build on. I'm about 95% certain of who her suitor will be; more on that once I firm it up.

But -- Ian. At what point do you say "enough is enough?"

Ian didn't come here to be a show dog. He came through an act of Divine Intervention: I was on a waitlist for a Pembroke and just counting down the days until the breeder I had chosen had a puppy for me. In the meantime, I was reimmersing myself in the dog world after a looooong absence. I was surfing the Web and had probably Googled "corgi" when I came across a picture of an available 16 month-old Cardigan -- this one, to be exact:

I had heard of Cardigans, certainly, but I had honestly never even considered one. I hadn't met any personally, I didn't know anyone who had one, and to be honest, I thought they were pretty funny-looking. But I tossed and turned and thought about that face all night and all the next day at work, and that evening when I got home I knew I had to make a phone call, because This Was My Dog.

As it turned out, Ian's breeder had recently moved to Virginia from up here in Maine, we knew a lot of the same people, and everything just clicked. A check was mailed, transport arrangements were made, and a few days before Christmas '07, Ian came home to me.

Ian had originally been sold as a show puppy but had been returned for reasons that had very little to do with him and a whole lot to do with the buyer. He had been shown a couple of times but did not have any points. Since his breeder felt that he "was not a group-winning special or anything, but was finishable," I decided what the hell, I'd show him and see what we could do.

You know how they refer to marijuana as a "gateway drug?" Well, Ian was my gateway dog. He won two out of three shows his first weekend out, and with me!, who had never shown in conformation before. He's the one who started me down this fun, rewarding, frustrating path that I'm on, and I Thank Dog for it.

But that was a lot of shows ago. I keep a spreadsheet for each dog of all shows entered, the judge, the result, comments about it, etc. To date, Ian has been shown 33 times. You know how much a show entry averages; you do the math. And that doesn't count the shows that I entered but didn't go to for whatever reason, or any of the other 1,001 expenses associated with showing a dog.

Ian stands at 13 points, 3 majors. "He's so close, you have to finish him up now!" That's what I've been telling myself. But right now I've spent a whole lot of money to bring him to where he is. This is not a dog I'm going to breed. He wasn't sold on a show contract, nor with any expectation that he would do anything other than be a beloved pet and possible obedience/agility partner. Does it really make sense to keep throwing money at show entries and hoping something will stick? At what point does the number of times he's been shown just become embarassing? When do you cut bait, throw in the towel, call it a day, etc.?

When? July 22nd.

What happens on July 22nd? Magnum turns six months old. Magnum WAS sold as a show puppy, WAS chosen for that purpose. I DO have plans to breed him (again, assuming that he passes his health screenings). And if he turns out anywhere near as nicely as I dare to hope he'll be, I can't wait to get him out there. My time and resources are woefully finite, and I need to focus them on the future, one that I hope will be very bright for "the little man."

So, Ian? My lovely boy, my heartdog, my gateway to this crazy world: you are and always will be first in my heart and on my pillow. Let's get that CDX, and start herding, and maybe take up tracking one of these days. Let's throw the Kong out in the backyard, snuggle on the couch during Doctor Who. Let's give this conformation thing a last hurrah these next two months, and let the points fall where they may.

After July 22nd, the show ring belongs to your brother.

And this one time? At dog camp...?

2010-05-21T20:17:00.003-04:00

Magnum, hanging out at the shows at Wassamki Campground:

Thanks, Nancy, for snapping this shot of the little man.

The Graduate

2010-05-19T19:00:00.004-04:00

Edited to replace the first picture with a cropped one, thereby losing the pajama pants. Also fixed the red eye issue. The purple thing is a little graduation cap, with a dog biscuit on top. That would be why it's not on Magnum's head. Eating the hat = not cool.

The graduate with his Dad:

Pomp and Circumstance

2010-05-19T07:48:00.002-04:00

Tonight is Magnum's graduation from Puppy K, to be followed in a couple of weeks with a beginner's course at Thom's. Since this will be my third set of Basic with Thom, I darn well better have the best behaved puppy in class. If I don't, shame on ME! If I remember to take the camera with me tonight then there will be photos tomorrow. Anyone want to start a betting pool on how many seconds Magnum will leave the cap on his head? I'm gonna go with negative 1.5.

This weekend, Ian and Elli are entered Friday through Sunday at the shows in Scarborough. It's a lovely site at the Wassamki Campground when the weather is nice, and the forecast for the weekend is superb (we need to borrow that club's Weather Chairman!). There are only three dogs entered in the classes each day, so fingers crossed super-tight that Ian can go 2 out of 3 and FINALLY finish. Not counting on it, but it would sure be nice! If Ian doesn't come up WD, then I get to console myself by showing Karen and Cheryl's Brady in Best of Breed. I adore that dog; he's gorgeous and super-fun. I just need to convince him to stand and look pretty for his treat rather than sitting.

Magnum is going to Wassamki as well to take in the show atmosphere and have a little puppy party with Mary and Nancy's puppies, Song and Aldo. I hesitate to take him out in public at all right now because OH GOD! is he going through the puppy uglies. I mean, to John Q. Public, he's a cute and engaging puppy. But these are show people! And here's Hocky McHockerton all up on his hocks, legs flying everywhere, skinny tubey body, ears out to here... maybe I'll cut up a sheet, cut a couple of eye-holes, and make believe he's at a costume party. No one gaze directly upon the monstrosity!!

At least I've: a) seen photos of other Pecan Valley dogs and how they develop; and b) gone through the puppy fuh-HUG-lies with Elli, so I'm not doing the "oh sweet lord in heaven what the hell have I bought?!" panic dance thing this time around, but I imagine there will be some raised eyebrows at my "show puppy". He's four months old, people; he's SUPPOSED to look heinous right now.

Oh! Elli's photo from the Nationals arrived last week. All that drama, and it was really kind of a crappy picture. Elli wasn't stacked well AT ALL. I should have taken more time to set her up the way I wanted instead of relying on the photographer to tell me where to set her legs. $40.00 lesson learned. If I ever get a minute to hook up the scanner to my laptop, I'll scan it in and post, but I'm mighty disappointed after all the photo angsting. :-(

Rock Stah!

2010-05-14T08:14:00.002-04:00

After having Magnum at her house during Nationals week, Joanna said to me that Magnum attracts more attention than any five dogs. That is SO true.

Before our Puppy K class on Wednesday, we went over to Camden to walk around the park and up and down Main Street. I literally could not pass people without receiving some comment on him. "What kind of dog is that?" "He has Husky eyes." "I've never seen that color before." "How big will he get?" "Look at those ears!" And, my favorite, "Squeeeeeeeeeee!!!" At one point he was descended upon by about 8 teenagers, all scootching down, squeeing, and petting him. That kind of a cluster#$%& would have freaked a lot of puppies out, but he let them all pet him, licked hands, and yeah, okay, he may have tried to jump on a couple people. We'll break him of that eventually.

Beyond the friendliness, though, what REALLY impressed me was how well he walked with me up and down Main Street. Magnum isn't used to a ton of traffic, and there's a TON of it going through downtown Camden this time of year. Lots of cars, lots of foot traffic. There were kids on skateboards, men on ladders, little kids, big trucks and motorcycles going by, you name it. I would have fully expected ANY puppy or young dog to be all over the place, looking at and sniffing all of these crazy new distractions.

Magnum? Walked beside me perfectly, loose leash, looking up at me with only a glance here and there to grab a quick look at things and to see where he was going. You guys, IAN doesn't walk through town that nicely on leash. And he knows what "Heel!" means. I can only pray that I don't somehow screw Magnum up, because if he can focus this well at 16 weeks then I may have a lovely obedience dog on my hands, in addition to being "Look at me, I'm gorgeous!"

Joanna, if I win the Powerball, I'm going to commission like FIFTY puppies from you. And you really need to make some business cards and send me a bunch to hand out. They'll be flocking to you in droves.

Have I mentioned how much I love this puppy? ;-)

A Super-sized order of Legs, with a side of Ears

2010-05-08T18:11:00.003-04:00

Aaaaaaaand, we've reached the stage of development where it's All Legs, All The Time. This puppy is growing like a weed. I think Joanna fed him some Miracle Gro while he was at her house. Fifteen weeks is NOT the most attractive time in Cardi development, that's for sure.

Oh, okay, maybe not ALL legs. Because these ears? Can pick up channels from Japanese satellites. We measured, and they're actually 1/2 inch longer than Ian's already. If this guy grows into his ears and feet, he's going to be YOOOGE. YOOOOOOGE!!!

Catching my breath

2010-05-06T07:49:00.002-04:00

Wow, so Nationals happened. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was definitely more of a whirlwind than I thought it would be. A brief synopsis:

Sunday: drive down to Joanna's to drop off Magnum. Visit and kibbitz and show Elli to Joanna and Kate. Take off after about an hour and half for Gettysburg. Mostly uneventful trip, other than a few aborted attempts to get gas. Memo to the Department of Transportation: When you say gas is available at a certain exit, maybe it shouldn't be 8 miles from the exit. Sheesh. Get there around 6:30 p.m., check in, haul stuff to the hotel room. Find a sandwich and crash.

Monday: Get up at 7:00 to be over at the obedience building by 8:00. When Open A comes up, take Ian in for our most embarassing performance to date. His nose was stuck to the carpet like it was super-glued there. As far as he was concerned I did not exist. At all!! We never even made it to the jumping exercises. The judge and I both agreed that we should be excused. Wow. Not how I wanted to do at Nationals. After that, I stewarded for the rest of the afternoon. Find something to eat, take the dogs for a long walk because I have Mom guilt for them being crated so much. Look at schedule for next day, meet up with Nancy, Mary and Warren and order hotel room service pizza. Set the clock for the earlier obedience start time since I said I'd steward again.

Tuesday: Wake up and realize that setting the clock for a certain time is useless if you don't actually turn on the alarm. Get to the obedience building just as classes start rather than the 1/2 hour ahead of time I was supposed to be there. Steward 'til 11:00, then go to the hotel room to await Shelley's arrival. Check Facebook while I can get the very spotty wireless. Realize that she does not have my cell number. Crap. Find a phone number for Shelley, which turns out to be her home number. Fortunately, her dogsitter is home and gives me her cell number. Call it and find out she's downstairs in front of the hotel. Help get her unpacked and situated. Take my dogs for a quick potty break. Rush back to obedience building to finish out stewarding and break down the ring set-up. Run over to watch the Megan. Grab dinner at hotel restaurant with Jeri and Kate during dinner break. You wouldn't think that they could screw up something as simple as pasta with pesto. You would be wrong. Finish out the Megan, potty dogs, crash.

Wednesday, Thursday: Honestly, they kind of blur together, but can be broken down roughly as watch a bunch of conformation, guiltily walk my poor crated dogs, go to dinner with either Mary and Nancy or Karen and crew.

Friday: Bitch classes. Watch the earlier classes, then take Elli out, get her all gussied up, go change into my show clothes, then return to the ballroom to find out that they've decided to do the various parades before Am Bred. So, I had an extra half hour to kill before going in the ring. It ended up working well because I left Elli with Karen for that time so she would be more focused on me when we went into the ring.

Finally, we got into the ring. Am Bred had nine entries. That's a bigger class than Elli has ever been in, so it was a lot longer for her to "on." We were next to last in the ring, so there was a lot of time between going in and when she got to strut her stuff. I am so proud of my girl: she self-stacked when I asked her to, she played touch games, twirled, and sat up on cue (upping her cuteness factor). When it came time to go up on the table, she stacked quickly and held her pose when the judge turned to look at her. She behaved well on the down and back and the around. By the end of the class, when they all went around as a group, she was really amped and so didn't gait as well. The judge kept looking at her the whole class and I thought we might have a shot at 1st, but we wound up 2nd, which is still a really cool thing at a National specialty.

After the bitch classes finished, I took Elli to wait for a photo. I honestly wouldn't have even thought about doing that for a second place from the classes, but several folks urged me to, it being a National and all, so I figured why not. The huge line was then told that the judge would take a one hour lunch break before photos. I made a dash to Friendly's for lunch with Mary and Nancy and then came back. They were just finishing up photos of Winners Bitch when I got there, and I was the last one left. I was told by the judge's husband, "She's not doing any more photos today. If you really need to have one, come back tomorrow."

You know, I can understand her being tired, and that they had some other things they wanted to do with the rest of their day. I mean, it would have taken all of 2 minutes to do another photo, but I get it. But he really didn't need to take the nasty tone with me, you know? Yes, I realize it was only a 2nd place, and from Am-Bred no less, but jeez. Maybe he's a big shot and used to winning big shows, but some of us are just starting out and aren't exactly at that level yet. Thanks for stomping all over my enthusiasm at my very first National, asshole.

I wasn't going to bother going back the next day for the photo, but was again urged to and told I'd regret it if I didn't. So I got over myself and went back on Saturday for the pic. If it's not too hideous of either one of us, I'll scan and post when it gets here.

Saturday night was the annual banquet and silent auction, then up and on the road Sunday. I got behind an accident on what I guess was I-78 in Pennsylvania, and it took me literally 2 hours to move 4.5 miles to my exit. Apparently a Honda Civic decided to go the wrong way on the highway and had an unfortunate meeting with a tour bus. I saw the car -- or the mangled ball of metal that used to be the car -- up on the tow truck when I went by. It was unrecognizeable as a vehicle. I learned later that the driver didn't make it, which doesn't surprise me, having seen the end result. Bad stuff.

FINALLY get to New Hampshire and meet up with Doug and Joanna and my little man! I swear he grew like a weed while he was down there. Those ears! And those feet! If he grows into those he will indeed grow into his name.

So overall, the Nationals flew by and I got to meet lots of people from blogland and websites and stuff, and hear lots of gossip. I also got to look at my leading choice for stud dog for Elli and meet his owner, who I really liked, which is nice if we're going to make babies together. I did feel bad that my dogs spent as much time in their crates as they did; I don't think the Nationals were anywhere near as fun for them as they were for me. If I make it to Houston next year it will likely be dogless, as I'll be flying and do not want to fly a dog.

And now, back to real life and work and trying to earn some money to make up for what I just spent. o_O

Gold Rush

2010-04-21T12:54:00.002-04:00

My house sits on a cul-de-sac at the end of a short road, maybe 3 tenths of a mile. My street lets out onto Manktown Road, which is fairly rural in the sense that there are no sidewalks, only sloping gravel shoulders. The footing isn't great, and the traffic rushes past faster than it should probably be going. In short, there's no good place to walk the dogs from my house. If I want to take them for a decent walk, I need to load them in the car and take them elsewhere.

The three spots I normally go are into Warren village, Thomaston, or the boardwalk in Rockland. Today I opted to take Elli to Thomaston, so we could take advantage of some steep hills to get a good workout. Elli could stand to drop a pound or two before Nationals next week.

{Elli would like me to say, in the spirit of honesty, that I could stand to lose MORE than a pound or two myself. Pot, meet kettle.}

Anywho, we had just walked up a nice steep hill, panting (Elli) and puffing (me), when a Golden Retriever spotted us from across the street. Totally ignoring the two adult humans and one child in the yard with it, the Golden rushed across the street and came after Elli. In hindsight, I don't think it was bent on death or anything, or there would have been bloodshed. But he did a lot of growling and air snapping, and I think managed to grab Elli's tail once. There ensued much yelping from her, growling from the Golden, and kicking and yelling of obscenities from yours truly.

After what seemed like forever but was probably only 15 seconds or so, the idiot owner of the Golden finally came and got her dog. Be proud of me: I didn't rip her face off. I did, however, remind her that there is this little thing called a leash law, and she needs to have her dog behind a fence or on a leash or tie-out.

I walked Elli back to the car, then drove by the house. There was no sign of the people or Golden, but I did take note of the address, then drove over to the town office. They gave me the phone number of the animal control officer. I called him and he was right down the street, so I drove down and gave him the information. He said he will follow-up with them and further impress upon them the importance of keeping their dog leashed. It was less satisfying but more law-abiding than me going postal on the person.

But next time I walk one of my dogs in town? I am carrying a BIG stick. And the next dog that rushes mine is getting the shit beat out of it. And if it's the same dog, then I WILL use the stick on the person too.

Open - Ah, the possibilities (for humiliation)

2010-04-19T09:51:00.003-04:00

Ian and I attended the Casco Bay Dog Training Club's obedience/rally trial yesterday. I figured it would be a good dry run for the Nationals, since I apparently suffered some sort of cerebral event and entered Ian in both obedience trials in Gettysburg. Also, we haven't trialed since last November.

The Good: Attitude was good, tail was wagging, heeling was attentive if sloppy. Figure 8 was good. Good retrieve on the flat - relatively straight sit (for Ian), no mouthing or playing with the dumbbell. Good dumbbell toss over the high jump by Yours Truly; nice and straight, good distance from the jump but not too far.

The Bad: No drop on the Recall. Ian clearly heard me, gave me that happy little look that says "I've never heard that word before" and came to front, sitting crookedly. On the long sit, he went down with about 10 seconds left to go in the exercise. And I ALWAYS practice longer than 3 minutes. Sigh.

The Ugly: Because Ian has always been only about 50/50 on the retrieve if I give a voice command, I use a hand signal instead. After my nice, straight throw of the dumbbell over the jump, I gave the signal just as Ian turned away from me to look at Grammy sitting outside the ring. Oops. Bad handler. And then: the broad jump. I took my spot and told Ian "Over!" He looked at the jump, looked at me, said "Aw, HELL no" and wandered over to stand in front of me.

Looks like we'll be doing a LOT of work on the broad jump this week. The recall is a tough one: if I over-practice the drop, Ian downs himself without waiting for my command. Also, I get a really slow, creeping recall. And contrary to his little charade, he DOES know what the word "Down!" means. I practice that a lot when they are in the house, running around the yard, etc. Yesterday, I think the lack of drop was just him "being a Cardigan." More long sit work. And more pounding it into my forehead that, if you're going to give a hand signal, WAIT UNTIL THE DOG IS LOOKING AT YOU!

2010-04-17T20:24:00.002-04:00

Da Boyz:

Too bad they don't get along and all. ;-)

12 week photos

2010-04-16T13:25:00.003-04:00

Not loving this whole stacking thing:

Hey, hotdog!

The side view:

This does not look very comfortable:

Shots of the faerie changeling

2010-04-14T09:29:00.003-04:00

Faeries stole my puppy

2010-04-13T08:37:00.003-04:00

You may have noticed that there haven't been many photos of Magnum in the last week or so. There is a reason for this: You've heard those myths of faeries stealing human babies and replacing them with changelings? My puppy has been stolen by the faeries. Or maybe an alien from outer space.

You know how some breeds just sort of gracefully grow from puppyhood to adulthood with a gentle maturing? They start out looking like miniature adults and just sort of get bigger? Cardis are not one of them.

My pretty, flashy, promising blue male has been replaced with a tube -- nay, a pipette -- with these long legs, huge hocks, big wide clumsy feet, and a ginormous goofy head. He's all gangly limbs flying in different directions, and he's as likely to trip over his HEAD and wipe out as he is to run or gait normally. His black ear is back upright and huge, while his grey ear is almost back up straight, and also huge.

Magnum is, nevertheless, a very happy little changeling. He dotes on his people even moreso than the other dogs, which was a pleasant surprise to me. He's confident with strange people and dogs. He's go-go-go, always ready to pounce and play. We have to sort of stealth cuddle him: wait until he's asleep or almost asleep and then transplant him to our laps. He is, quite simply, delightful. Even if he is a changling. Or a space alien.

I am still awaiting the arrival of the errant twin. We have a vet appointment tomorrow for his second shot, so I will have her poke around for it. I plan to ask whether a shot of testosterone would be advisable.

If it doesn't end up descending then things get hairy. My head says that there is only so much time/space/resources to go around, and if I want to have a breeding program/show home then I need to think long and hard about keeping something that can't be part of that program. But my heart absolutely adores this puppy, and I can't imagine him leaving.

Maybe the faeries could return my puppy WITH both balls?

Hurricane Dog Show

2010-04-12T07:54:00.002-04:00

Wow, 9-10 hours in the car to spend 4 hours at a dog show. I've clearly lost my mind. We drove down to Springfield Saturday afternoon/evening. By the time we got dinner and got the dogs settled at the hotel, it was nearly 10 PM. We had an 8:30 ring time, so it was a pretty early rising. Obligatory trip to Dunkin Donuts at around 6:30 AM, and on to the Big E.

Set up grooming area. Find people I know to kibbitz with while I drink my coffee. Take Ian out. Put him up on the table. Dampen him with a spray bottle, spritz on some I-don't-remember-what-kind-of-styling-or-finishing-spray-I-mixed-in-the-pink-bottle. Blow dry him while trying to slicker out the topline curls as much as possible. Wrap him in a towel to keep said curls from sproinging back to life before we go to the ring. Work some chalk into his rough and feet. Put in crate. Take Elli out. Repeat procedure, minus the curl wrangling since Elli has a nice flat coat.

Change into skirt. Pick up numbers. Watch ring until Pems get to BOB, grab dogs and return to ring. Take Ian in. Get dumped. Go back in for Reserve, get dumped again. Take Elli in. Get dumped.

Tear down grooming set up. Change back into jeans. Do a whirlwind trip through the vendors. Load dogs, head home.

Big score for the weekend: Discoverying that Cherrybrook now carries Chris Christensen products. I've been wanting to try some of those products, and they had these awesome little packs with like 4 or 6 oz. sample sizes of the day to day shampoo, a protein rinse, the After Bath, and the Ice On Ice -- for 10 dollars! So now I can try the products I've been wanting to check out without forking over a fortune for the big bottles. Woo!

The dogs were not impressed with the grooming products, but the elk antlers I brought home for everyone were a big hit.

And the best part: When I got home and brought the big kids in, Magnum was more interested in seeing me than the other dogs! Yay, people-focused puppy!!

2010 Point Schedule

2010-04-07T12:14:00.002-04:00

I just looked at the point schedule in effect for Division 1 as of May 12. No changes for 1,2 or 3 points. For 4 points, it's now 6-8 rather than 7-8, so one less dog needed for a 4-point major. For a 5-point major, it's now 8-12 rather than 10-11. I guess we must be slacking off on dog entries here in the Northeast.

Yup. Still suck.

2010-04-05T08:12:00.004-04:00

Since it was 78 (78!!!!) degrees yesterday, and since I had the grooming table out to comb out the big kids, I decided to try and get some stacked photos of Magnum. Aaaaaaand, newsflash: I still suck at stacking.

The good news is that, after the photo session, hubby made me a stacking stand. All I need now is some pieces of rubber matting or carpet to put down for traction on the foot bars, and it's good to go. Have I mentioned how wonderful my hubby is?

Other activities for the weekend: I and four other ladies rented the training center in Lincolnville so we could work on Open stuff in anticipation of the trials the weekend of the 17th. I also have Ian entered at both obedience trials at the Nationals, because why only embarass yourself locally when you can do it at the national level? Hey, go big or go home!

There were two Labs, two Goldens, and Ian. I felt like we were crashing a Sporting specialty. Ian did fairly well, considering that we left our dumbbell at home and he had to use a Lab-sized one. The retrieve is always a will-he-or-won't-he prospect, so we'll see. He was also cutting the corner off the broad jump, so I need to try and fix that before the 18th.

I had a little time to kill before the training session, so Ian and I got a good walk around Camden, and some quiet, cuddle time on a bench overlooking the harbor before we went. It felt good to give him some one-on-one Mom time, since so much of my dog time lately has been devoted to getting Magnum socialized and house-trained. I can't believe that there was ever a time when Ian wasn't in my life and in my heart.

In addition to the photo op yesterday, I took Elli for a long, brisk walk, one-on-one. She's perhaps eating a little too well on this raw diet, and she's carrying a couple of extra pounds I need to take off of her. Since Elli doesn't do cuddle time ("Ew, Mom, stop with the mushy stuff. Gross!"), this was good one-on-one time for her.

All three got individual, 5-minute work sessions in the house Saturday evening. You know you need a bigger place when you don't have space to set up the bar stools and do an adequate figure-8 in the house. :-/

As I was working on grooming, I'm now seeing a difference in Ian and Elli's coats as a result of the raw diet. It does seem shinier and healthier. Yay!! I'm glad I finally caved to Joanna's advise and undertook this, wiggins over the gross stuff notwithstanding.

I'm still not buying a beef heart and cutting it up myself, though.

What do Magnum and Office Supplies have in common?

2010-04-01T12:59:00.005-04:00

This pen? Is a uni-ball. And right now, so is Magnum. He's only 9 1/2 weeks, so it's certainly not panic time or anything like that. He has time yet. But it would be really nice to check that particular thing off of the list of things that might possibly keep the little man out of the show ring, you know?

Now, I will be the first person to leap in the air and admit that I am woefully inept at locating these particular goods, at least on young puppies. I mean, they're sort of dynamic little things at this stage -- they're up, they're down, they're in, they're out, they're a whole freaking Katy Perry song. I'd locate one, feel around for the other, and not be sure if I had found the second or if the first had just made an end-run and popped up under my fingers again in this new location. It's like trying to predict where the whack-a-mole is coming up next. Using two hands is not an option; I only have two, and one needs to keep the exceedingly wiggly puppy in place. I'd recruit the hubby to help me find the dog's balls, but as wonderful as he is, there are limits. Trust me, at this point I'm going to find Waldo, Carmen San Diego, the Red October and the Holy damn Grail before I'm likely to find the MIA puppy bit.

Rather than make an almost 3-hour drive to Joanna's to go feel like an incompetent ass, I took Magnum over to my local trainer. I already pay Thom good money for agility classes every week to feel like an incompetent ass, so hey! Nothing new there. Thom confirmed that he could only locate one of the twins as well, so it's not just me. Or, Thom is also an incompetent ass. But I'm betting on the former.

So, if anyone knows any ritual, Native American Drop The Ball In The Scrote dances, now would be the time.

No big socialization outings to report over the last few days, what with the torrential downpours and all. While we were at Thom's, Magnum did have an encounter with a Wooly Mammoth, also knows as a rambunctious, adolescent Newfoundland. Typical Newf, the big guy was all "Puppy!!!!!!" and came running over to see Magnum. Magnum just sat, looked up (way up), and gave a doggy equivalent of "Dude!", then sniffed, wagged his tail, gave a little play bow, and would have started running around playing with the Newf if I hadn't held onto his leash. He repeated that behavior (minus the "Dude!") with a Lab mix, a Shih Tzu and a long-haired Dachshund. There was no fear, no spazzing, just appropriate greeting and a "Cool, let's play" in response to the other dogs, all varying degrees of bigger than him. I do love me a well-bred, even-temperamented (I know, it's not a word. shut up), well-socialized puppy.

So that's the latest from Casa Smalltyme. Next week my incompetent ass will most likely be making that trip to Joanna's for some adventures in ear-taping (see above re: the two hands thing). Expect to see subsequent pics of the cone-head in action. And if anyone encounters a stray boy-puppy bit, send it our way!

Scraps of Photographic Evidence

2010-03-29T20:04:00.004-04:00

Okay, here's a couple of pictures and and little video clip. Warning: video may cause severe squeaky toy envy amongst your household dogs.

Mr. Handsome, rocking the Flying Nun look with the sideways ears.

It's really too bad this puppy doesn't have any toys to play with.

The result of all the playing.

Warning: Video may cause severe squeaky envy amongst viewers' household dogs.

Rainy Days and Mondays...

2010-03-29T12:51:00.002-04:00

...always get me down, as the song goes, and moreso when a) the rainy day IS a Monday; and b) it's the Monday following a vacation. I think Magnum agrees -- he had his first accident in the house this morning. As the expression of personal opinions goes, it was pretty clear. Crappy day, indeed!

It's my bad, though. I should have kept him out longer. Even if it was raining, and the wind was howling, and he wanted to come in, and I wanted to come in. Wet person and wet dog is definitely preferable to poopy carpet.

Weekend socialization activities included a brief trip to the waterfront park in Camden and exploration of the amphitheater, and a run to the Animal House, where they were sadly out of tripe. More on order, though! Magnum did get to meet an Aussie, a Golden, and lots of people with the puppy-squealies while he was there, and he came out with a new tug toy, so all was not lost. We also did a little walk along Main Street in Damariscotta to get used to the noise and activity of cars going by. All fairly low-key, but we got out of the house.

Everyone do the Perky Ear Dance this week; Magnum's ears both came up, in that up means that they are not tipped forward anymore. They do, however, both list to the outside, so he's rocking the Flying Nun look right now. If they haven't stiffened up straight by this weekend, we're going to have some adventures in taping. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Anyone who has seen me tape windows in preparation for painting knows what I mean.

Odds don't look good for any socialization activities today. Elli has agility class tonight, and my hubby is working nights this week and can't ride herd on him, so the little man will be staying home this evening. If the weather stays the same tomorrow, we'll have to take a trip to Pet Quarters or something to get out of the house.

Pictures tonight if I can come up with some more AA batteries for the camera. I swear, that thing positively DEVOURS batteries!

Under the Boardwalk, down by the sea...

2010-03-26T09:53:00.002-04:00

Well, we were on the boardwalk, not under it, but if I have to have that song stuck in my head then y'all may as well too.

Seriously, if anyone wants to socialize puppies, come on up! I'll take you to the boardwalk, because it's a terrific place for it.

I took Magnum yesterday (without the big kids this time), and it was like going down a laundry list of people that puppies are supposed to meet. We met ladies pushing babies in strollers, an older man with a walker, small kids running back and forth, teenagers, and other dogs on leash. Since he still needs his second shot I didn't leave him down on the ground to meet the other dogs yet, but he didn't seem at all bothered by them being there.

Magnum did a great job of walking on lead and going to see everyone; all humans are now viewed as possible cheese dispensers. He liked the little boy who petted him, and he wasn't phased by the running, the walker or the strollers. And we met one lady who asked, "Is that a Cardigan?" Yay!

The police station is located at the public landing, and I went in to see if there were any uniformed officers on hand who might want to help socialize a puppy. There was an older lady there at the desk, and when I told her what I wanted, she looked at me like I had tits on my forehead. There were no officers on hand, as it turned out. After this I'll try a different station, hopefully one where there isn't a scary dragon lady at the desk. o_O

At the end of the boardwalk we went down to the little beach where I took the pictures of Ian and Elli a couple of weeks ago. It's nicely enclosed by rocks and a long set of stairs, and there was no one else on the beach at the time, so I let Magnum off lead to run around with me. Unfortunately, I stupidly left the camera in my car, for which I kicked myself hard. Picture if you will: Magnum picking up a dry, blackened piece of seaweed in his mouth and running around with it, looking for all the world like he had one of those villianous twirly moustaches. Could you just die from the imagined cuteness?

We played some chase-me-chase-you, and worked the recall, which he did a great job on each time. He doesn't really stray that far from me yet anyway. I know that will change as he moves into adolescence, but right now he's a dream. We went down to the water's edge, where he watched the little waves lap at the sand, and tried a lap of the water himself, only to discover it was most definitely not potable. Some things you just have to learn through experience.

We capped off the outing with a quick trip to Grammy's house, where he checked out the toy selection and scoped out the surroundings before crashing for a big nap. I may or may not have come home and followed his lead. ;-)

Mr. Murphy goes to Jersey. We don't.

2010-03-25T09:39:00.003-04:00

Poor Joanna. On the eve of her first dog show in, like, FOREVER, her hubby got hella sick, a dog needs to go to the vet, and her little one hurt herself. Mr. Murphy sure loves him a show weekend!

Given the situation, I've opted to stay home as well. A decision for which my checkbook thanks me profusely. I'm a little bummed not to be showing Elli, especially to Kathy, and I'm out the entry fees, but that's a drop in the bucket next to the hotel, gas, tolls, meals, etc. I would have spent money on.

I was also a little leery about taking Magnum to a show site at only 9 weeks old, and without his second vaccine. He will definitely need to be accustomed to the show scene, but now I can wait until Nationals, when he's had his second shot. In addition to the risk of picking up something nasty, I was dreading removing him from the routine I've been establishing for him. He's doing an AWESOME job with housebreaking and with settling down in his crate at night, and I really didn't want him to backslide by being back in an ex-pen with his siblings and a litter box.

So for me, a little bummage mixed with a little relief. I do feel badly for Joanna, though. The universe needs to give this lady a break, already!!

Socialization - Day Three. Or, Magnum charms the pants off everyone

2010-03-24T21:24:00.002-04:00

Seriously, Joanna, if you breed another litter you will be able to sell it twenty times over -- every person who has met Magnum has tried to steal him and take him home.

Today the little man went with me when I got the oil changed in the car. We sat in the waiting room, and Magnum amused himself by alternating between playing with his little squid toy and charming the other patrons. There were lots of pets and compliments on how pretty he was and how well-behaved for such a little guy, and one lady sat right down next to me and asked if she could pick him up. He obliged her by snuggling up and kissing her chin. He certainly knows how to work a room!

The only potential bugaboos were the mechanic, who apparently looked a little iffy in his, um, mechanic-ey jacket, and a little boy who was maybe three years old or so, wearing a raincoat. The mechanic bent down and offered Magnum some of the cheese I'd brought for that express purpose. Magnum took it willingly and decided that maybe he wasn't an axe murderer after all.
The little boy looked kinda leery himself of the puppy, so I passed on asking the mom to have him feed Magnum. There'll be plenty more opportunities for him to see kids, and its not like they're a radical new concept for him or anything, what with Joanna's four girls.

This being my third Cardigan in, I'm used to all the "Is that a _____-corgi mix?" Usually it's a sheltie mix or a border-collie mix, but sometimes folks get creative. There was one teenage girl -- at a dog show no less -- who explained to her friend very authoritatively that Ian was a Shiba Inu. With Magnum, I'm getting the inevitable "Is that an Australian Shepherd" or "Is that an Aussie mix?" One person asked if he was a Husky. Sigh. Maybe I should invest in a T-shirt that says, "It's a Cardigan Welsh Corgi. No, not like the Queen has. The other kind of Corgi. Yes, there are two kinds of Corgi."

Anywho, after the car dealership, we went to visit a friend of mine at the University. She told me to bring him on in, so in we went, Magnum trotting along nicely on his leash just like a big boy, rather than being carried in. He was picked up and hugged, petted, kissed by at least four strangers, and at one point had eight people standing there over him, offering pats and scritches and bits of cheese. He was quite the little rock star, and had them all wrapped around his little dewclaw by the time we left.

Lastly, we did toenails and had a bath today. Dremeling was tolerated, but not a big hit. Though truly, I think he objected more to the being restrained while I did it than to the actual dremeling. I also trimmed the hair on his feet, which was tolerated. Magnum was perfectly nonchalant about the bath.

You guys, I am so delighted with this puppy. He is everything I could have wanted in a little guy -- adaptable, well-adjusted, snuggly, adventuresome, adorable, and happy happy happy! I will joyfully send people to Joanna in droves for a puppy, and when it comes my turn to have a litter, I hope I do a fraction as well with them as she's done with the Clue-lettes.

Socialization - Day Two

2010-03-24T08:03:00.005-04:00

Since Joanna's monsoon drifted north yesterday, it wasn't the best day for puppy socialization. Heavy rain and wind are not conducive to taking puppies to the park. So, we made do with a trip to the office. My co-workers went wild over Magnum. "Oh, look at those blue eyes!" "His ears are adorable!" "He's so soft!" "I love his color!" "What a sweet puppy!" Magnum was passed from one person to another, hugged, kissed, petted, and put on the floor and fed treats. He was quite the little rock star.

After that, we made a stop at my former workplace to see some friends, and Magnum enjoyed much of the same before succumbing to a persistent nap attack.

Magnum hasn't been wild about riding in the car. The first few minutes of each trip have been punctuated by a cacophony of protest from the crate in back. But the duration of each protest is getting shorter and shorter, so I think he's growing accustomed to it. There is no sign of car sickness, so it may be that he just protests the confinement. He's not wild about the whole crate thing. These are two things that it is crucial that I adapt him to early; crates and travelling will be a big part of his life here at Casa Smalltyme.

Nathan's folks came over for dinner last night, so Magnum met his other Grammy and Grampy. I put Ian in the bedroom when they drove into the driveway. As I expected, Magnum went right over to greet them, along with Elli. It's amazing how they'll follow the lead of the older dog. It's one thing that makes training in a multiple dog household much easier. Of course, they pick up naughty habits along with the good stuff.

In other news, when we woke up this morning, we had...

TWO EARS!!!!

And now, for some gratuitous photos:

It got too quiet yesterday; I went out to the kitchen and discovered this. This crate is a little smaller than a 200, if anyone is wondering.

Awwwww....

Monkey in the middle

Tuesday Pics

2010-03-23T13:42:00.002-04:00

Elli tries to show Magnum who's the boss

After getting beat up by a girl, Magnum comes to commiserate and do a little male bonding with Ian.

Flop puppy

Socialization - Day One

2010-03-23T08:42:00.002-04:00

One reason I was so bananas to get a puppy from Joanna is that she is as nuts about socialization as I am. The puppies got a terrific start at her house, with the kids, other dogs, lots of visitors, etc., and now it's my job to build on that foundation.

Sunday I deliberately kept Magnum home all day to get used to his new home and settle in a little. He had a couple of visitors: first his new Grammy, and later our friends Mike and Ashley. I learned a valuable lesson from the latter visitors.

Ian came to me at about 16 months of age after he had been returned to Karen by his original purchaser. Without naming names, and from what I can gather second and third hand, Ian spent the better part of his first year crated. The person who picked him up from there to take him back to Karen found him in a size 200 crate. She was told that he barked all the time, and that he "was fine" for up to 12 hours a day in his crate.

When this person took him to the car to take him away from there, he never even looked back. He just settled into the car in his (bigger, more appropriately sized) crate, sighed, and gave a non-verbal "thank God." Ian stayed for a few weeks with this person until transportation could be arranged to take him back to Karen, and indeed almost ended up staying there permanently, being such a sweet boy. But the timing was off, so he did finally make his way back to Virginia and to Karen.

Shortly after Ian arrived here with me, Mike and Ashley came over to meet him. For whatever reason, he has never warmed up to them. Part of the reason with Mike may be that he always wears a baseball cap. Ian FREAKS OUT if Mike even touches his hat, or if Ashley does anything with her hair (she has really long, curly hair). I truly believe that at some point in Ian's first year, someone whipped a hat off of his/her head and hit him with it.

So when Mike and Ashley showed up, Ian ran around and barked and in general acted like Mr. Crazypants. Elli, on the other hand, did her joyful "Yay!! Uncle Mike!!" dance. Magnum was very confused: were these axe murderers who needed to be warned off, or were they friends? Which of the older pack members was he supposed to follow?

Lesson One: When new people come over to meet Magnum, have Ian secured in the bedroom or outside in the backyard while they come in. I would rather have him pick up on Elli's over-exuberance than Ian's paranoia.

Yesterday, we left house a couple of times. First Magnum had a well-check at the vet's, which ended up just being a visit with the techs since the vet had an emergency and never got to see him. He will go back for his second innoculation in about three weeks. He got treats and pets and was so stressed out about the whole thing that he actually fell asleep on the table, head on my hand. :-)

After that, I had to pick up a couple of things at the grocery store, so my friend Donna, who works there, came out to the car to meet him. He got more pets and some string cheese and thought life was good.

Next stop was to my mom's friend Maxine's house. Maxine had multiple High in Trials, UDs, TDXs on her Goldens back in the day, and she just plain loves dogs. She was delighted to meet Magnum. He happily took cheese and cuddles from her, but didn't stray too far from me. He played with a toy and then was overcome by a nap attack, so we came home.

Some lunch and a rejuvenating sleep later, I did something STUPID: I decided to take all three for a trip to the boardwalk.

I knew better. I really did. But I was feeling all this Mom-guilt for taking the baby and leaving the big kids at home, so I opted to take everyone. And it was an Unmitigated. Disaster. Elli and Ian decided that it was a race and they just HAD TO pull on their leashes. Magnum did a great job walking on lead, but he wanted to stay with the pack so he was in amongst the other two, tangling leashes and getting underfoot.

When we stopped for a break and had people approach, Ian woofed at them, so Magnum scooted behind my legs, figuring that if the big dog was issuing a warning, these people must be somehow scary. I asked them to stop and offer him some treats, and he happily came out and took them. The next obstacle were people walking other dogs -- because Ian barked and in general acted like a jackass, Magnum figured he better bark too. We did lots of focus-and-treat work to get past that. Still, not exactly what I wanted.

Lesson Two: take the baby by himself. EVERYTIME. For the next several weeks.

Also? Alcohol is my friend.

Day Two with The Blue

2010-03-22T07:48:00.005-04:00

Wow! Last night was only Magnum's second night here. We went to bed at 10:00 and all had snuggle time on the bed for an hour while I watched TV. Then I took him out for a last potty trip, put him in his crate and sent the grown-ups to their beds, and went lights out.

The next thing I knew, it was 5:30 a.m., and NOT A PEEP!!! All night!!! I hauled myself out of bed before he could start crying and took everyone out. Checked the crate: completely dry and clean.

What a good puppy!!!!

Profile please

The self stacking model

Elli, balancing the Kong on its tip

Ian, having staked his claim on the big Kong

Did someone say "cookies?"

Grabbing a little R & R

Dad and all the "kids"

Seriously, the one ear just kills me

Meeting Grammy for the first time

Be vewy quiet, I'm hunting sleeping wabbits

Introducing... Magnum!!

2010-03-21T07:44:00.006-04:00

Or, the artist formerly known as Dashiell. His formal moniker is Blacksheep Smoking Gun, suggested on Joanna's blog by Claire. Thanks, Claire!!!

Our trip home got off to kind of a rough start, most likely a reaction to the huge amount of roast beef Magnum scarfed down while stacking for photos. Turns out he wasn't just yelling because he was put into a crate in the car. He apparently had some diarrhea brewing. Diarrhea plus crate = EWWW. Fortunately we hadn't driven out of Joanna's yard yet, so we went in for a quick clean up, tied the messy towel up in a plastic bag and away we went. He made it almost all the way home, but between when he started to whine and when I could pull over, he had another bout of diarrhea. Thus, Magnum's introduction to his new home was a quick sink bath.

After that, he got to meet his new siblings.

(Can you stand the one ear up? Seriously, how cute is that?)

Elli really wants to play with her new little brother, but he's a little intimidated, so he's been sitting under the bar stools and sneak attacking her as she goes by. Ian did fine with him, as I knew he would, though I got a rather pointed, "Seriously? Another one?" look from the big guy.

Sabbat the cat didn't even blink. He is so "been there, done that" at this point. Even when the puppy grabs his tail.

I got up a little more with him in the night than I probably would have if not for the diarrhea, but there were no further incidents. When we first went to bed he let out some truly impressive screeches about the indignity of it all and why is he in jail and someone needs to call the United Nations because he's been kidnapped by these terrible people and I WANT MY MOM!!! That only lasted about 5 minutes, though. Each time we came in after a potty trip he settled down pretty quickly. I bet he'll be sleeping through the night in no time.

What can I say? He's a very people oriented little guy, loves to snuggle on laps and will cuddle his little head right into your shoulder. Right now he's napping at my feet, snuggled up to Ian. For breakfast he had the rest of the chicken thigh that I fed him part of for supper, and a little green tripe. No accidents yet in the house, knock on wood. I'm going to have to watch him like a hawk since he seems to have a wood fetish -- no bar stool, baseboard or cupboard is safe. I think his wrestling name will be The Termite. The rug also seems like a fine chew toy, so we'll be sticking bones and chew toys in his face A LOT for the next little while. He's already mastered the dog ramp and will come in and out the door under his own steam. He plays with the big kids a little in the yard, but will mostly follow me around and try to grab my pantleg. His collar and leash are evil and he will be registering a formal protest with the proper authorities.

Today we're letting him get settled in. Tomorrow he has a well-check at the vet's, and he'll go over to meet the in-laws. He may have a visitor or two here at home today, but he's such a friendly little guy that I'm sure he's going to handle new people just fine.

I am so psyched to have this little guy here in our home and our lives! Thank you, Joanna, for this beautiful, well-adapted, wonderfully socialized little love-bug.

Has anyone seen my marbles?

2010-03-17T21:25:00.003-04:00

I know y'all might find this hard to believe, but I really was relatively normal once. I used to play cards with friends, go out to eat without discussing semen extraction or heartworm, go to movies instead of dog classes, and buy clothes without wondering, "Will this go with my dog?"

Another thing I used to do? Shop at the meat counter for myself and my husband, rather than the dogs. Stew meat, chicken thighs, hamburger... we used to eat these things. Now I buy them for the dogs. We eat PB and J.

But the real clincher? I went to the grocery store today and ACTUALLY GOT EXCITED when I found a package of fresh turkey necks. And THEN? I regaled the guy at the check-out counter with the virtues of feeding raw. Me!!

Joanna, this is all your fault. You have turned me into a raw-feeding, store-clerk-lecturing, fresh-turkey-neck-thrill-seeking freak of nature. I hope you're pleased with yourself.

So, fresh off the victory of my turkey neck score in Shaw's, I moseyed into Pet Quarters to pick up a puppy collar. A collar. One collar. For the puppy. What did I come out with?

Two collars; a matching leash for one of the collars; a puppy sized Nyla bone; a Fluffy Flappy in grey and light blue to MATCH THE PUPPY; a stuffed dog to sleep in the crate with him; a puppy sized Kong; and a Kong bone with hollow ends that you can stuff with treats. And there were two other stuffed toys that I actually put back!

Good grief. If anyone finds my marbles, could you send them back to me? I'll pay the postage.

A Walk in the Park; and, Sturm und Drang

2010-03-17T08:39:00.004-04:00

There's a park on Route 90, maybe 10 minutes away from home, that I've driven past a hundred times but never stopped to check out. But yesterday was a gorgeous day, and it was the one evening I didn't: a) have dog class; or b) have to work at my second job. So I packed the dogs into the car and headed over to see what little Payson Park was all about.

Ian and Elli on the riverbank. Ian shows off his beautiful front.
Elli demonstrates how to sit so that a Mack truck can drive through hers. :-/

On the footbridge over the rushing water.

"I'm the King of the World!!"

There are several picnic tables and benches in the park, as well as playground equipment. There were two teeters, so Elli did a couple practice runs. Unfortunately, they're a little slippery to be used for dog agility. I wonder if anyone would notice if I were to sneak in there and repaint them with the sanded paint used on agility equipment...

There was also a... um, climbing thingy with a couple slides of different heights. We went up the steps but not down the slide. There are some swings, and a merry-go-round (the turning platform variety, not the kind with horses), and a dome structure made out of bars for kids to crawl through, in, etc.

There's a wooden footbridge that spans the river and leads to the snowmobiling/hiking trails on the other side of the water. It was a little muddy yet, but this will be a great little hike in the summer. It will also be a good spot to take the dogs to get wet and cool off during warm weather. The water is a little high and fast right now for them, but in mid-summer it will be just right, and they'll be kept on lead anyway, per park rules.

What really struck me was that this is going to be an AWESOME place to bring the puppy for some socialization and new experiences with respect to climbing on the plastic equipment and feeling something move under him (a slow turn on the merry-go-round). It'll also be a great place for him to meet new people and see kids running around, swinging on swings, using the teeter, etc. When we were there last night, a boy of maybe 8 or 9 years old came in with him mom, and as they came down the hill, he got all excited, asking, "Are those corgis? Those are my favorite dogs!!" Elli was very happy to greet (read: jump all over and kiss) him; she has no manners. Probably her mother should teach her some. Ian was less impressed with the whole kid thing. I tied Elli for a minute and had the boy feed Ian some cheese and make friends. I'm sure the puppy will already be more outgoing than Ian, and goodness knows he'll be used to children, but it'll be great to get him out to make friends like that.

That is assuming, of course, that I can stop waffling and make up my mind WHICH puppy is coming home with me -- hence, the sturm und drang. For the first few weeks, I had one guy picked out. Then after I went down to visit, I fell in love with a different guy. Have a name picked out and everything. But then lots of people have commented how nice the first little guy is -- which he IS -- and now I'm questioning myself. And I came up with a name for HIM, should he be the one. It doesn't help that the two boys are so very different from one another as far as look and type.

Gah! The indecisiveness! The angst! The fear that I'll choose the "wrong" one! And the added pressure of knowing that the guy I don't take is headed to a pet, not a show, home. Add in the fact that I may, just possibly, be a tad bit obsessive and over-analytical about this, and it's turning into one very stressful week. All totally self-induced stress, but stress just the same. If I had that elusive trust fund, I'd be whining and pleading with Joanna to sell me both puppies, but between going to NJ next weekend, buying a puppy, and going to Nationals next month, I'm going to be eating nothing but Ramen for the entire summer as it is.

I guess it all comes down to what I'm looking for in particular for my breeding program and, most importantly, which little guy I ultimately want to share my couch, my bed, my life with, because those are the most important things. And my willingness to live with the choice I make, whether he becomes a conformation star or not.

So, I'm telling myself to wipe the slate clean and go into this weekend without any preference. Spend time with the two boys, both together and one on one. Listen to the others who are there to evaluate puppies. Stack them up and see how they look when set up like they will be in the show ring. Watch them move, gaiting if possible as well as moving naturally. Make sure there are two balls and correct bites. See who responds more to me, who is more motivated to work for that tasty bit of cheese or hot dog.

And then, go home with the one who claims my heart.

Full Week into Raw Diet

2010-03-16T07:59:00.003-04:00

Ian and Elli are now one full week into a totally raw diet, as opposed to the half raw, half kibble diet they were getting before that. The week broke down like this:

Tues: AM - chicken thigh; PM - Beef bones, yogurt, egg
Wed: AM - chicken thigh; PM - chicken giblets, beef liver
Thur: AM - chicken thigh; PM - stew beef
Fri: AM - pork meat; PM - stew beef
Sat: AM - chicken thigh; PM - yogurt, beef heart (which the butcher was kind enough to cut up for me, even if he did think I was nuts)
Sun: AM - chicken thigh; PM - veggie slop
Mon: AM - chicken thigh; PM - pork meat
Today: AM - chicken thigh; PM - will be the last dab of pork meat and some tripe (Thanks, Taryn, for the suggestion of the Bravo frozen Green tripe. Found some close by!)

I know chicken backs would undoubtedly be cheaper than feeding the thighs. However, no one in the immediate vicinity seems to have them on hand, and I don't particularly want to order a 40 lb. case, at least not until I can buy a chest freezer to put downstairs. The thighs (or drumsticks if I decide to go that route once in a while) are quick and easy to grab at the grocery store. The Animal House, where I picked up the tripe, also carries several frozen raw products, so that will be a good, convenient resource for some of the more "exotic" stuff. I quite like that store, and will no doubt become a frequent flyer.

I can't say I'm noticing any radical changes in the dogs yet in terms of coat. I'll be interested to see if there is any difference in the coming weeks. I've been feeling their ribs a ridiculous number of times a day to make sure they're not gaining weight, and they both seem to be holding well there. I do notice the difference in their stools, and in better breath. They do still get a night-time "cookie," but no more kibble other than the handful I use as training treats.

There hasn't been any diarrhea, and only the one incident of (truly impressive) projectile vomiting. Elli has spit up some foam twice, indicating that she does get hungrier between meals with the, um, faster moving raw meaty bone in the morning instead of the stick-to-the-ribs kibble. She gets a small lunch cookie, so as long as dinner isn't unnecessarily delayed that should hold her.

In short, they're both happy, healthy dogs. Ian thinks life is grand; now if only he would discover the joys of chewing and actually, you know, tasting his food. I never would have believed a chicken thigh could disappear that fast. Elli is adapting to the new regime; she takes a little more time with her food, chewing pieces of meat off the bone and then chewing up the bone afterward. She's becoming quite the little princess; maybe having a new little brother to terrorize her will rub some of this new-found dignity off of her!

Uh, waiter? This is NOT what I ordered.

2010-03-15T09:08:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I got to play with my new toy: the food processor. I've had an anemic blender for years; it was a "hey, look, a stowaway!" that I got when I moved into an apartment and it had been left behind by the former tenant. It went nicely with the 4 etched-glass margarita glasses that I got from another apartment I had moved into. Ah, the rummage sale life of a serial renter. But this is the first food processor I've owned. And it is AWESOME.

So yesterday was the test run on the processor's raison d'etre -- veggie slop for the dogs. (Though there are definitely some rum balls in that processor's future!) Hamburger, kale, green beans, summer squash, apples, minced garlic, salmon oil, eggs, and yogurt. Several batches were run through the processor until I had a huge mixing bowl full, about 17 to 18 cups of slop all told, which was enough for suppers last night, and five 3-cup containers in the freezer for the weeks to come.

How did the veggie slop go over, you ask?

Ian: "Cool! Food!" snarf snarf snarf snarf

Elli: takes one look and motions me over. "Excuse me, but this is not the meal I ordered."

Me: "It's good for you. There's plenty of meat in there. Eat your supper."

Elli: raises an eyebrow at the bowl with the slop in question. "This is not food."

Me: "It IS food. Eat your supper."

Elli: sits down. "I'd like to speak with a member of the management."

Me: "Um, that would be ME. Eat your supper!"

Elli: "There's a fly in my soup."

Me: "See, I told you there was meat. Eat!"

Elli: wanders over to see what Ian is eating.

Ian: "Isn't this great?!" snarf snarf snarf

Elli: "Men!"

Me: "Elli! Go. Eat. Your. Dinner!"

Elli: "You have clearly taken leave of your senses. I am sure there is nothing in this world that would compel me to eat this... this substance you are pushing at me."

Sabbat the Cat: wanders over to see what's in Elli's bowl

Elli: "Hey!! You!! Get the hell away from my dinner!" digs in and starts eating.

Further Adventures in Feeding Raw

2010-03-11T09:10:00.002-05:00

Le sigh. It was probably a little naive to think that this road to feeding a completely raw diet wouldn't have some bumps along the way.

When I picked the kids up from daycare (AKA Grammie's house) yesterday, I was informed by an unimpressed mom that Elli had just vomited on the living room rug. She was acting just fine -- doing the mom's home dance, grabbing a toy and tossing it, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, etc. -- and upon further probing I learned that she had only vomited the foamy yellow bile stuff. No big, she was just over-hungry. Which I suppose makes sense when she's been accustomed to having slow-to-digest kibble in the morning rather than the quick-to-digest chicken thigh that she got. Easy solution: give her two cookies, or a larger cookie, at lunch time to tide her over until dinner.

Said dinner last night consisted of chicken hearts, gizzards, and some beef liver. I will 'fess up here that I do brown the beef liver a little -- not cooked through, just the outside browned before I cut it up for them, because... um, eww. (Comment from hubby: "That's not OUR dinner, right?")The dogs have been getting the occasional liver anyway, so that's not a change for them. So, a couple chicken hearts a piece, some gizzards that I cut into manageable size pieces, and maybe 4 oz. of liver apiece. This was a big hit, especially with Ian. So much so that I don't think he even stopped to chew any of it.

Wait: actually, I can attest to the fact that he didn't chew it. Because about 20 minutes later, he PROJECTILE VOMITED it across my living room carpet.

o_O

I mean really, have you seen The Exorcist? Yeah, like that. But without the head-spinning. Well, maybe MY head spun around a little, but anywho... We're talking a good 2.5 to 3-foot arc, because maximum coverage is important when vomiting on wall-to-wall carpet. (It's in the Rules for Dogs to Live By book.) And yeah, it looked pretty much the same as it had 20 minutes before, with the addition of a little added moisture. No, Joanna, I did not let him clean it up himself. Seriously, there are limits.

I know there wasn't a problem with WHAT I fed them; Elli was fine, and none of the components were anything they've never eaten before. I therefore conclude that either: a) Ian just bolted it too fast; b) I fed him a little too much; or c) the post-dinner rough-housing was a little much immediately following the meal.

On the upside, I saved the $20 on obedience class last night. :-/

I am deeply concerned that, suddenly, a raw fricking chicken thigh seems the lesser of the evils to me.

Dog people are not normal.

The Impending Arrival

2010-03-10T13:39:00.004-05:00

Holy guacemole!! Only a week and a half until I'm hearing the pitter-patter of little paws on my floors. For so long it seemed like P-day would never get here, and suddenly, it's almost here! Let the relaxation at home end and the sleep deprivation begin!

In preparation for the imminent arrival, I've now taken the plunge and converted Ian and Elli over to a completely raw diet. Their first foray into Raw Meaty Bones was a chicken thigh the other night. I gave them each one and stepped back, immediately horrified by what I had just done. "Omigod, the crunching, ew!! It's raw chicken, for goodness sake! Holy crap, Ian downed the whole thing in about 45 seconds! He'll have a blockage! He'll perforate an intestine! I've just killed my dogs!!" Such was my internal monologue. I immediately IM'd Joanna, who conceded that, yes, losing one's virginity is difficult, but we all get through it (with an unspoken but no-doubt heartfelt "calm the #%$& down, already. Sheesh").

Elli, a bit more elegant about eating than Ian, if not about much else, actually chewed pieces off of hers until it was gone, rather than crunching the bones and swallowing it pretty much whole. This was after she looked at it, looked back around the counter at me, licked it, looked back at me again as if to say, "Seriously? This is food?", then finally settled down to eat her chicken.

As it turned out, I did not in fact kill my dogs. The next morning, they had teeny tiny little poops and were bouncing around with their usual vigor. Gee, just like Joanna said they would. Okay, okay! The raw diet is all right. I mean, it's gross, but it's perfectly fine for the dogs. And did I mention teeny tiny poops?

We have a local butcher about two miles from my house, so I stopped in there last night to see what would be available for organ meats. They said they do sell a "dog food" which is a mixture of organ meat and ground beef, but the girl at the counter didn't know what the proportion was of ground beef to organ, so I passed. I asked if they sold beef heart, which they assured me they do. I asked if I could have it cut up, sort of like stew meat. They looked at me funny. I explained that it was for the dogs and me plopping a whole heart up on the cutting board and slicing into was just not. going. to happen. They continued to look at me funny.

They said they could probably do that (though not then, as it was actually closing time), but that it's awesome sliced -- they eat it just like steak, even their kids love it, etc. I looked at THEM funny.

We'll try on Saturday, when they're not closing up.

They also sell tripe, though I'm sure it's of the washed, not unwashed, variety. They can order cases of chicken backs for me, but do not have them as a regular item.

I also bit the bullet and bought a food processor so I can make up the batches of veggie mix. (And also, so I can grind up Nilla Wafers to make my coconut rum balls out of. Mmmmmmm, rum balls...)

So, the household will be all cool with the raw feeding when the little guy comes home. I think the only other things I need to pick up for the puppy are a collar and leash and some new baby blankets for his crate. Also some puppy-sized toys.

Squeeee!! Puppy!!

What a gorgeous day!!

2010-03-07T18:01:00.005-05:00

This has been a glorious March -- March!! -- weekend in Maine. We were in the upper 50's both days, with no wind to speak of and lots of sun. We took the critters for a walk on the boardwalk today.

"Squirrel!"

Grooming table... picnic table -- close enough!

Pothole season in Maine

2010-03-07T17:43:00.003-05:00

What potholes look like in Maine:

This is not a construction site. A couple of weeks ago, the Rockland PD got a phone call reporting a large pothole on Old County Road. By the time they got there, this is what they saw. They've since erected the fence, so I couldn't get close enough to take a photo down into the hole, but it goes down about 50 feet. There was apparently a tunnel connecting two old quarries that ran underneath the road. It collapsed, and within an hour or so this crater had opened up, stretching all the way across the road.

Catching up, seeing puppies, etc.

2010-03-05T09:49:00.003-05:00

Wow, bad blogger again! I meant to post this on Monday, but the week got away from me. So, without further ado...

Sunday was a totally puppilicious day. I started the day by temperament testing my training instructor's Aussie litter. I pretty much use the standard Puppy Aptitude Test, with the inclusion of the umbrella "startle" test and the EXclusion of the Touch Sensitivity, or pinch, test. Call me a wuss, but I do NOT like pinching widdle baby puppy feet and hurting them. Maybe it's just me, but nope, not doing it. Sue me.

It was an interesting litter. There were two puppies who scored in the 2-3 range, and two puppies that were mostly 5's and 6's. There were a couple of observations that I took away from the experience (and I am certainly no expert -- these are just my thoughts based on what I've experienced with this and other litters):

With the first puppy, I did the Restraint test as the third item after Social Attraction and Following. Although this puppy scored solid 2's and 3's on every other test, she scored a 6 on the Social Dominance test; it was my conclusion that this was a direct result of doing that test right after the Restraint test, and I don't believe a 6 was really an accurate score on that test for that particular puppy. She was the first puppy of this litter that I tested that day, so after her I moved the restraint test to the end of cycle for the other puppies.

The temperament test is supposed to be administered in a room that is unfamiliar to the puppy, by a person who is unfamiliar to the puppy. While this set of circumstances does mimic what a dog may be faced with in life, I do wonder if the results with a puppy are truly reflective of how the adult dog would handle the situation. At least one of the puppies who scored 5's and 6's didn't necessarily seem to be truly uninterested in me or shy/scared of me, but he WAS very curious about the new surroundings. He didn't come readily to me or follow me, but when I elevated him he was completely relaxed, and after the testing was done and I picked him up to cuddle him, he made some eye contact, licked my chin, and engaged with me. I'm not sure I believe that an adult dog with a little more life experience would behave exactly the same as a 7-week old puppy with respect to new person vs. new surroundings.

The number scores are presumably meant to apply to puppies across the board; accordingly, you would want to see the same "ideal" scores in each puppy, no matter the breed. I would prefer to tailor these temperament/aptitude tests, or at least the interpretation thereof, to the specific breed or, at the least, to a particular group. For example, I don't want to see a Golden Retriever and a Border Collie perform the same way on the Retrieve test. Or maybe a more accurate thing would be to say that I would not apply the same meaning to the same score for those two breeds. I would certainly want to see the Golden run out, grab the piece of crumpled paper, and bring it back to me. However, I would expect more pouncing, mouthing and/or guarding out of the Border Collie, which is a herding breed and should therefore have a higher prey drive. The Border could also be reasonably expected to perform more independently than a dog that is expected to closely follow handler cues to perform its work.

No matter how many litters I look at, it never fails to bemuse me how individual each pup is. Here they are, all raised together, by the same mother, in the same way, but they so early develop their own little personalities. Surely, at this age, Nature is much more on display than Nurture.

My final word on temperament/aptitude tests: they do not in any way replace the breeder's experience and observation. Rather, I see them as merely one more tool that the breeder has in deciding how to place each puppy. The testing offers the breeder the opportunity to see how each puppy behaves with that new person and with new experiences, a little something else to add to their coffer of knowledge of each. So no big write-up or profile from me saying this one needs to go here, that one can't go there, etc. This is what you saw from each puppy, make of that what you will.

What experiences have others had, either giving the tests or having them done on litters they've bred? Am I totally out in left field (AKA talking out of my @$$)?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second part of the day was one I had been anxiously awaiting for weeks: The chance to see the Clue-lettes! First, I have a small confession to make. Y'all know I've been like this weirdo cyber puppy-stalker, and I'll admit that, in some of my more uncharitable moments, I may have grumbled to myself that there could be more photo updates of the litter, some stacked photos, etc. and so on. So I was really looking forward to going to Joanna's with my camera to take a photo library to later pour over, study in infinitessimal detail, measure millimeter to millimeter so I could calculate length to height (you know, as one does), etc. Thus, allow me to present:

Yep. A picture. Of me. That my HUSBAND took, of me sitting on the floor with Ginny while Joanna and I talked. Can I just say that I now TOTALLY understand why there haven't been hourly photo updates and a glossy library of stacked photos like I craved? Seriously, who can be bothered messing with a camera and taking pictures when there are all of those abso-freaking-lutely adorable puppies to be played with and squidged and kissed and tousled and belly-rubbed? And stacking them up? Fuggedaboutit. Ever try to stand a piece of spaghetti up on its end? A COOKED piece of spaghetti? Yeah, it's like that. Wiggly, kissy, playful little puppies do not want to stand still and pose for the camera. Not even for a piece of hot dog. Because there's a whole plate of hotdogs right there.

So, Joanna? My bad. Never again shall I grumble about not having new photos to obsess over each day. I worship at your feet for taking all the photos you have taken, while still doing your work, mothering four girls (who were all also just lovely, by the way), and raising these wonderful babies. And for goodness sake, go kiss those puppies for me!!

The litter is simply beautiful, and beautifully outgoing and confident. Toys were played with, fingers and toes were nibbled, laps were climbed into... I couldn't ask for more. As I expected, Joanna has done a fabulous job making them happy, healthy, and well-adjusted little baby dogs.

Do I have a favorite? Yup. Though I think my favorite has changed during the week with the outdoor photos of the puppies. Who is it?

Stay tuned!

By the Numbers (Or, Wanted: One Trust Fund)

2010-02-24T14:50:00.005-05:00

...or a rich sugar-daddy. But the trust fund would be preferable. A big trust fund.

In the space of about 2 months, I have on my agenda:

2 new tires for the car
1 vehicle registration
8 nights in hotels
1 show puppy
6 weeks of puppy kindergarten
13 show/trial entries
1 week at the Nationals
4 nights of camper and campsite rental

Now I know why my work week = 64 hours.

Clearly, I am insane.

Corgi Curl-Wrestling: The next Olympic Event

2010-02-19T08:44:00.005-05:00

Tuesday evening, I brought Ian home from his two-week exile at Grammie's house. Lest he and Elli have too much fun being reunited, I ground toenails and then gave them each a bath. This was not a popular move with the corgwyn. Here is Ian, pre-bath. It's hard to pick out with the bookcase in the background (sidenote: we WILL put that addition with the dog room on the house. SOME day.), but he's got a lovely set of alfalfa sprout curls over his loin:

Also, the hair on the back of his neck was sporting some lovely waves:

I hadn't experimented with conditioners in the past, but wanted to give it a try, and figured this was the time since he wasn't being bathed and groomed for show. I picked up some Mane N Tail conditioner. So: here he is post-bath with an oatmeal shampoo, the conditioner, and a blow-dry with some Royal Crown spritz:

See the difference (other than in the background)? Yeah, me neither. >:-/

The conditioner didn't seem to soften the wiry texture of the curls, and made his coat feel a little harder to comb through. First foray into conditioner: epic fail. What has Dawn learned from this? Don't buy a big cheap bottle of Mane N Tail conditioner at effing Walmart. Go to the Plush Puppy site and order the good stuff that Joanna so helpfully blogged about over the summer.

At the other end of the spectrum, Elli has, if not a lot of coat, a nice flat, straight one:

"I'm gorgeous!!!"

Not the world's best stack, but considering there was no one there to bait her, it's not bad. I had her facing the windows, and apparently her own reflection was enthralling enough to keep her ears up and at attention while I snapped some pictures.

Meanwhile, Ian reacted to my obvious angst with the chagrin and embarassment I might have expected after the Victory of the Accursed Curls:

"Mwahaha!! Ze curls, zey will not be denied!"

And yes, he has the "Samily" tongue!

Sigh. Plush Puppy, here we come.

The new addition

2010-02-15T10:03:00.006-05:00

You all know how much I'm jonesing for a puppy, specifically a blue puppy. Sometimes, though, there comes along a dog that just has to come home with you, no matter the color. So, please join me in welcoming my new red and white puppy, Clarence:

Er, make that my new red and white puppet.

Okay, so he's a fluffy, and he has no neck, and the rear angulation is really bad, his face is lopsided, he's roach-backed, and I think he's actually a Pem with a tail, but still! How often do you happen into a village bookstore and find a

How could I NOT bring him home?

Now, if only Elli would stop growling at him...

Writing the Unwritten Rules

2010-02-12T07:45:00.002-05:00

Okay, this is probably going to be long and way rambly, but there is an eventual point. Bear with me.

A couple of years ago, a then co-worker (and now friend) of mine had a litter of Collie puppies. Her dog and bitch were not show dogs, but were both healthy and had good temperaments. She was also very choosy about where her puppies went, and she's been absolutely great about following up with the puppy buyers and about taking one back when the placement didn't work out. Like the dam and sire, the pups are healthy, have nice temperaments, and are just nice, family pets.

Around the time she had that first litter, I invited her to join our local all-breed kennel club. She wasn't familiar with the world of dog showing, beyond watching Westminster on TV and the occasional broadcast on Animal Planet. But she was interested, and so joined. Thus began her introduction to the Fancy. I took her with me to a show to see first-hand what went on, explaining what was happening in the ring. I later sat down with her at the table and made a color-coded flow chart (yes, I'm anal) showing just how the classes progressed, how you got to Winners and what that meant, and how Best of Breed and Group worked.

My friend had initially considered keeping a puppy out of that first litter, but after we talked some about the breed standard and what constituted show quality vs. pet quality, she decided instead to invest in a show bitch from a reputable breeder. Much internet research and many emails later, we made a whirlwind trip to Albany to pick up Bela, a 5 month-old bitch that the breeder had been growing out.

For a number of reasons, Bela has not been shown extensively. When she was shown, she received some nice comments but did not garner any points. Now full grown, it is apparent that she is not quite all my friend was hoping for. Which leads to a discussion that my friend and I had yesterday.

She is on a waitlist for a puppy from a different breeder, from a line that she really likes. But she expressed that she was a little gun-shy about the price. I reminded her that you get what you pay for. She said that's what she thought when she bought Bela.

This led me to explain that a show breeder can often be reluctant to place a really nice show prospect in an untested "show home," because people may say that yes, they want to show, but when it comes down to it they don't, for a whole variety of reasons. So the prospective show novice may get an "okay" or "probably finishable" puppy, but they're not going to get the really good puppy.

All of us who have "been around a while" know this intrinsically. Thing is, no one TELLS the novice this. And really, how would you? "I'm pleased that you have an interest in showing in general and in my breeding in particular, but I don't know if I can believe you when you tell me you'll show my puppy, and you don't know anything yet, so I'm only going to sell you something mediocre."

Um, yeah. I don't think so.

So it falls on the newcomer to show that mediocre pup anyway. If they give up after a few tries because they're discouraged that they didn't win, stop being involved in the breed and the fancy, drop off the face of the earth, then this justifies to the breeder that they made the right decision in not placing a top prospect with this person and only reinforces the practice. If the person perseveres and shows the dog at two dozen shows whether they're in the ribbons or not, learns from other breeders how to groom and how to handle, networks, researches bloodlines, memorizes the standard, etc. and so on, then the next time they look for a show puppy, either from the first breeder or from someone different, they're going to get a better quality puppy, because they've paid their dues.

It's just The Way Things Work. You know it. I know it. And no one is going tell it to anyone who doesn't already know it.

It was an interesting conversation we had yesterday about this. And it was a jumping off point for discussing other "unwritten rules" that we all follow but have to learn the hard way. Things like:

Ring etiquette: Yes, the entry confirmation and armband number you received in the mail says that Akitas show at 9:00 a.m. in Ring 3. But did you look at the Ring 3 schedule? There are 5 Bernese Mountain Dogs, 7 Newfoundlands, 16 Dobermans and 4 Mastiffs in the ring before Akitas. Don't be at the ring at 9:00.

When it IS time to go to the ring, Do not stand at the ring gate until the class just before yours is in the ring. Otherwise, you're in the way.

The ring steward will call for you when it's time to go into the ring. Do not make the ring steward call for you. Be where you're supposed to be, when you're supposed to be there.

The judge will tell you where to stand and when and how to move your dog. If you're the first dog in the ring that day under that judge, then you'll have to go by that. Some judges are articulate, but there are a fair number of the grunt-and-point variety. So if you are not the first dog in the ring that day under that judge, then watch the classes that go in before you so you know what the pattern is. But don't stand in the ring gate to do it. :-)

These are just a small sample of things that you learn along the way, usually the hard way. Some breeders are true mentors, and will take the novice firmly under their wings; this is perhaps the best way to learn. However, not everyone has that relationship with their breeder, for any number of reasons. I have never yet attended a handling class where the instructor talks about class progression, ring etiquette, points calculation, etc. But by not explaining these things to novices, are we setting them up to fail? Is it some kind of survival-of-the-fittest mentality, separating the wheat from the chaff by sorting who figures it out vs. who gets frustrated and gives up?

All of which leads me to the question that I really want to ask all of you (see, I told you there would be a point; it just took me 3,254 years to get there): If we WERE going to give newcomers a crash-course in "Everything You Need To Know About Showing Your Dog, But That People Won't Tell You," what would be the best forum in which to do that?

Incorporate it into handling classes? Give an "orientation" at dog shows? Have a public education event? Get some breed clubs together for an event and have the clubs' breeders encourage their new puppy buyers to attend? I'd really like some input, because I'd really like to put something like this together; I'm just trying to figure out how to reach the congregation, instead of preaching to the choir.

Because the choir's not going to sing out about it anyway.

Bad Blogger. Bad, bad blogger.

2010-02-12T07:35:00.002-05:00

Gee, so much for a week of lovely, helpful, Agility-at-a-Glance posts. I can only plead 72 hour work weeks and a YCWCC Bylaws meeting, with the subsequent typing of said bylaws. Which had to be done from scratch because I didn't have an editable format for the previous incarnation. With the old set typed in strike-through, and the new additions in red. Fun. Now, why do I volunteer to do these things, again?

I am so. tired. y'all.

Though somehow, I doubt I'm anywhere near as tired as Joanna. So enough whining. If you haven't already, go over to her blog and look at the most recent puppy photos. Warning: Near-fatal cuteness. I hope to see some of those pictures entered in the photo contest at the Nationals!

Hopefully next week I'll finish the AKC Agility post I've got started and stashed in Draft format. I got about halfway through before my brain turned completely to mush and started dribbling out my ears. Stay tuned!

Tuesday is the new Monday

2010-02-02T08:48:00.003-05:00

...because I didn't get my CPE post in yesterday like I wanted to. Bad blogger! This is going to be a pretty cursory explanation; I know there are probably several of you who have been at this for a while and can no doubt add to or correct what I've written. Please do!! I want this to be a learning experience for all of us who are just getting started.

Anywho, I thought I'd start my "Newbie's Guide To The Agility Venues" with CPE (Canine Performance Events, Inc.) because that is the only venue that I've actually trialed in thus far. It, um, didn't go so well. Not because of anything having to do with CPE; Ian just preferred to be entertaining to actually running the course correctly. It might also have had a little bit to do with the fact that I am functionally retarded when you add an actual judge and an entry fee into the whole agility mix. I mean, a 15-foot green tunnel in the center of the course is an easy thing to miss, right? /facepalm/

My own debacles notwithstanding, I suspect CPE is perhaps the simplest and most "user-friendly" venue to start with. Membership is open to all purebred or mixed breed dogs age 15 months or older. There is a New Membership fee of $22 for one dog, $27 for two dogs, and add an additional $5 for each dog beyond that. Once you have paid the new membership fee, you do do not have to renew each year; once you have become a member, you are eligible to enter any dog you've registered. Dogs are registered for life.

Members have the option to pay an annual renewal fee of $15; renewals receive a current year rulebook and a 50% discount on adding a dog during that renewal year. New dogs are $10 for non-renewals, $5 if you have renewed. Since you can go to the website (http://www.k9cpe.com/) anytime and download a PDF of the current rulebook, yearly renewal probably doesn't make much sense unless you plan to add 2 or more dogs during that calendar year.

As of last week, there were 444 CPE agility trials scheduled for 2010, spread amongst 24 states. 78 of those are up here in New England. The entry fee runs around $14.00 per run.

Height cut-offs in CPE are a little different from most other venues, and are split into four divisions: Regular, Veterans, Enthusiast and Specialist. (I would love to show you this in table format, but I can't figure out how to make that work. Grr.)

8" and under: jumps 4" for all divisions
12" and under: jumps 8" for Regular, 4" for Veterans/Enthusiast/Specialist
16" and under: jumps 12" for Reg., 8" for Vet/Enth, 4" for Spec
20" and under: jumps 16" for Reg., 12" for Vet/Enth, 8" for Spec
24" and under: jumps 20" for Reg., 16" for Vet/Enth, 12" for Spec
Over 24": jumps 24" for Reg., 20" for Vet/Enth, 16" for Spec

Dogs under two years of age must be measured at each trial. After two years of age, they must have two official measurements, then they may receive a Permanent Height Card. In the event that the two measurements differ, there will be a third "tie-breaker," then the Height Card will be assigned.

There are four sub-titles at each level to earn before receiving the Title for that level, based on different course types that test skill, strategy, handling, and "fun." As a newbie myself, I'm only going to talk about Level 1 for now. The first subtitle is the CL1-R, which is earned by receiving two qualifying scores in the Regular (or standard) agility course. This is the typical numbered course of 12 to 16 obstacles. In CPE agility, Level 1 does NOT include weave poles or the teeter. Thus, a Level 1 Standard course will have 1 dogwalk, 1 A-frame, 1-4 tunnels (only 1 of which may be closed), 1-2 broad and/or double jumps, 1-3 tire jumps, and 3-12 bar jumps (with or without wings). Standard Course Time is based on 2-2.5 seconds per yard based on a dog that jumps 16". Therefore, dogs jumping in the 4, 8 or 12 inch height categories receive an additional 5 seconds for courses measuring under 150 yards, and an additional 10 seconds for courses over 150 yards. At Level 1, a dog can receive 10 faults and still qualify. A bar down is 5 faults, off course is 5 faults, and so on. Standard "contact rules" for contact obstacles apply.

The second sub-title is the CL1-H (Handler), which is earned by receiving one qualifying run in Colors and 1 qualifying run in Wildcard. Colors consists of two overlapping mini-courses of 8-12 obstacles each. The handler chooses one color course or the other. The two courses must overlap or cross paths at least 2-3 times, and the dog must stay the course his handler has chosen. There are no down bars allowed; dogs are allowed one off-course and one other fault before disqualifying. Wildcard consists of a modified Standard course with 10-12 numbered obstacles and 3 "Choice" obstacles. Dogs must complete two 1-point obstacles and one 2-point obstacles in addition to the numbered obstacles. When dog and handler come to the wildcard obstacles, there will be two choices: a 1-point or a 2-point, and the handler must decide which to take. A team can receive 10 faults and still qualify, but must achieve the minimum number of wildcard obstacles.

The third sub-title is the CL1-S (Strategy), which is earned by receiving one qualifying run in Snooker and one qualifying run in Jackpot. Snooker is run as a 2-part course. The first part, or opening sequence, consists of dog and handler attempting a "red" jump. If the attempt is successful, the team has earned the right to attempt a "color" jump of their choice. Different obstacles have a different point value, and the team must accumulate a minimum of 26 points to qualify. The procedure (red jump then color obstacle) repeats itself until the team has completed three reds and attempted or completed 3 colors. After that opening sequence is completed, the handler can choose colored obstacles at will to accumulate points. Point accumulation ends when an obstacle is faulted (bar down, 4-paw safety rule), when the dog goes off-course, or when the SCT ends. The timekeeper will blow their whistle, and the dog must then proceed to the pause table and touch it with at least one paw to stop the timer. Time faults apply. If the dog touches the pause table at any time during point accumulation, time immediately stops and the dog must leave the course whether they have accumulated the minimum number of points or not -- you have been Snookered. Jackpot is also run as a 2-part course. The first part consists of the team taking point-valued obstacles and accumulating at least the minimum number of point for the course. When the time whistle blows, the team can then attempt a series of "gambles." These gamble obstacles are set in an area where the dog will work but which the handler must stay outside of. The gamble obstacles must be taken in a designated order and without faults, then the dog must cross the finish line (or hit the pause table if that is being used in lieu of a finish line) to earn the gamble points, or "Jackpot."

The fourth sub-titles is the CL1-F (Fun), which is earned by one qualifying run in Jumpers and one qualifying run in Fullhouse. Jumpers is (not surprisingly) a course consisting only of jumps and tunnels. Course must be run in order with a maximum of 10 faults. Fullhouse consists of point valued obstacles, of which there need to be "three of a kind", "a pair", and a "joker". The team must score a minimum number of points within the alloted time. Time stops when the dog touches the pause table.

So there it is, the (perhaps over)simplified version of how to earn the CPE Level 1 title. For tomorrow: uh, whichever venue I study tonight.

Breaking down agility venues - OR, Dawn's attempt to Get A Grip

2010-01-29T12:51:00.003-05:00

I know I haven't been posting much content lately. I wish I could say it's because I've been too busy doing mucho-exciting things, but seriously? It's Maine. It's winter. There's just not a whole lot going on, dogwise. Me enthusing dramatically about Elli's agility training or obsessing over Clue's puppies isn't real exciting for y'all to read about.

And MAN am I obsessing! Like --

uh, Joanna, if you're reading this, STOP. I'm not a crazy, creepy, psycho-stalker lady. Really. But I do play one on my blog!

So, you know you're obsessed when:

You have a folder of pictures labelled "Clue-Draco" puppies, on both your home and work computers, with copies of every. single. photo that Joanna has posted;
You have looked at all of the photos in said folder (again, both at home and at work) approximately 3,254,586 times each;
You've printed said photos out in various sizes, rotating them 2.4 degrees to the left or 5.3 degrees to the right, thinking you just might get a better idea of that puppy's shoulder angle or the length of that one's hocks - 'cuz, you know, you can tell SO much when they're a day old;
You've already contacted your Puppy K instructor to see when they will start an April session and to get your name on the list;
You've mentally rearranged the car 9 times to figure out how to accomodate both adult dogs and the puppy's crate for the trip to Nationals;
You have your day planner marked in weekly increments up to twelve weeks, and then monthly increments up to six months, with the 6-month date circled in red with big letters that say "Can start entering shows!";
You have debated the merits of this call name versus that call name with friends and family, and have taken an informal opinion poll;
You've moved furniture around the bedroom so the baby's crate can go there;
You've picked out a show lead and collar to compliment the blue merle coloring;
You make the rounds on Twitter, Facebook, and blogland every 10-15 minutes to see if there are any updates posted;
And, your inner monologue sounds roughly like, "blah blah puppy blah puppy puppy blah blah puppy puppy puppy and blah blah and PUPPPPPPPY!"

Freakin' A, Dawn! Get a damn grip, fer cryin' out loud!!

yeah. *ahem* Like I said, not such an exciting read.

But in between the quarter-hour cruises through social networking sites, I've been looking at agility regs for the various venues -- AKC, UKC, CPE, NADAC and USDAA -- and comparing them. Which actually makes enthusing dramatically over Elli's training progress A Good Thing, because the thought of not being able to compete with her, what with the being in prison and all, is the only thing keeping me from camping in a little tent on Joanna's front lawn.

So next week, I'll be devoting each day to a discussion of one of the venues. I know that there are a lot of you who already compete in one or more of these, so this will probably all be old hat to you. But hopefully some of you who are just getting into agility and looking ahead to competition will find it helpful. I know I'M learning a lot!

Monday's venue: CPE

gotta go check Facebook and Twitter now 'kay bye

Six Words

2010-01-29T08:32:00.002-05:00

I posted these as a comment on Taryn's blog, but thought I'd move them here too.

Ian: Discovered by accident. Heartdog. Fate smiled.

Elli: Wild Child. Everyday laughs. Forward momentum.

Clue-lettes

2010-01-22T13:07:00.002-05:00

Per Joanna: Surgery went beautifully - yay!! Nine healthy babies: 4 boys 5 girls, all well-marked and healthy. YAY!! All the blues are boys. Not so yay.

But still, 9 healthy, well-marked babies, and Clue is a trooper. Awesome.

T minus 1 week!

2010-01-14T14:20:00.001-05:00

...till Clue's puppies arrive. :-D Sending lots of positive vibes toward New Hampshire.

Fursonality

2010-01-13T09:51:00.003-05:00

Elli had another great agility class Monday night. She picked up the front cross immediately, and was sequencing 12 obstacles. She didn't fall for the tire trap coming out of the tunnel, instead picking me up for the front cross and reversal of direction. We will be starting either the dog walk or the teeter next week, so I'll be interested to see how she deals with new objects that have some height to them, and/or that move. I'm delighted at how responsive she is to my body language. I'm less delighted with the fact that my body language has a pronounced speech impediment.

However, I didn't actually run over the jump; I just came perilously close to it, thereby pitching Elli wide around the obstacle. Poor dog. I totally need to get her one of those T-shirts with the pointing arrow that says, "I'm with Stupid." Thom swears he'll make an agility handler of me, though, and he's cracking the whip hard, which is good. I need it.

I am so pleasantly surprised at Elli's work ethic. She really WANTS to work, and has great focus on course. Because of this, I've decided that, come spring, I'm going to bite the bullet and sign her up for private herding lessons. I'm very fortunate in that there's an experienced herding instructor with a farm in the next town over from me. It's $60 an hour for a private lesson, so I may have to either split the lesson with someone else or only go on a bi-weekly basis, but I want to see what Elli can do with livestock. She loves having a job, and this will give her one more outlet for her energy. She'll definitely need her T-shirt then; I have, like, less than zero knowledge of livestock. What I know about sheep can be summed up thusly: they have four feet, and they make sweaters. Sweaters that I can't wash, because they'll shrink. Why is that? The sheep don't the sheep shrink when they get wet, do they? Do you have to dry-clean sheep?

It has been really interesting to see how different her personality is from Ian's. I mean, I realize that they're all individuals, but it's still intriguing to me. Ian's idea of the perfect life would be to lie on the couch with his head in my lap, sleep at my feet while I'm on the computer, snuggle on the bed at night, and intersperse all that with a walk or some fetching of the ball out in the yard. When we were working in agility, it was a looooooooong time before he didn't get the zoomies in the middle of the course and run around doing his own thing. He'll do obedience because it's time he gets to spend with me and because he wants to please me, but he will never have straight sits or fronts, and it is always going to be a toss-up as to whether he's going to play clown in the ring. But he is possibly the sweetest dog who ever lived, and is tuned into my emotions to a scary degree.

Elli is NOT cuddly. She'll put up with me loving on her, but she has this little martyred expression the whole time, and she can't get away fast enough. When she gets up on the bed, it's at the foot, and no amount of persuasion will induce her to come up for a snuggle. Half the time she'll lie down in the kitchen or the bedroom rather than stay in the room with me, let alone at my feet. I spent at least the first six months of her life convinced that she hated me. But she LOVES to work. She has terrific focus, and is already a much sharper heeler than Ian will ever be. She works with this big grin on her face and her eyes alight, not because she's humoring me but because she wants to do it, and do it right. Working with Ian is rewarding because he's my little heart dog. Working with Elli is FUN, and I am going to learn so much from her.

I can't wait to see what kind of "fursonality" the next little furkid will have. Eight more days till Clue's puppies arrive!!

With Some Reservations

2010-01-08T09:30:00.002-05:00

...for Nationals! I hadn't seen anything on the CWCCA website to indicate that the hotel was taking reservations yet or that there was a group-rate, but I called, and they were, and they do. Soooooo, I've got a room for April 25-May 2.

I booked a non-smoking room with two double beds, so if there is anyone out there in Cardidom who is looking for a room/roommate, let me know.

I'm not 100% sure who I'm taking for dogs yet. I will most likely take Elli with me to get some Opinions on: a) whether I should breed her; and b) if so, to whom I should breed her. I may enter her in Novice Obedience if she's ready, and/or agility. I may or may not take Ian to enter in Obedience. That will likely depend on whether I have a new little blue bundle of joy tagging along. (fingers, toes, etc. crossed).

This will be my first National, and I'm so psyched! I can't wait to meet everyone in person.

I am so psyched!

2010-01-06T08:33:00.002-05:00

I've been saying almost since she came home that Elli was going to be a good agility dog. She is unbelievably fast and agile in the yard, can turn on a dime, and never hesitates to jump up on things that she probably shouldn't. However, physical ability alone doesn't translate into being competitive on course, where they not only have to perform the obstacles and run fast, but also have to follow handler cues and be under control at all times. So though I know the raw talent is there, I went into Elli's first agility class Monday night without putting huge expectations on the experience.

And? Elli frigging ROCKED IT HARDCORE!!!!

Oh my God, you guys, I seriously feel guilty that she's with ME and not a more serious agility competitor. I mean, my goal with agility is not to get a MACH or to compete at the National Invitationals. It's more like: Don't trip over my dog. Don't trip over an obstacle or fall on it and dismantle it. Don't run into a post and give myself a concussion because I'm not watching where I'm going because I'm watching that dog that I don't want to trip over... Y'all, I am so NOT coordinated. Like, at all.

But first time out, even with all the new dogs in the room to distract Little Miss "PLAYWITHMENOW!!!", and still she focused on me, kept checking in, and completely followed my body cues, even when I gave her the wrong ones, which: good for her for paying attention, and bad on me for doing it wrong.

So my new goals for 2010: Learn to be more aware of my body and what it's doing, even while running a course. Be consistent in what I call the obstacles so I'm not creating confusion that doesn't need to be there. Keep losing weight, and do more cardio so I'm not puffing like a stevedore at the end of the course. Introduce Elli to ALL of the equipment, and work on the darned weave poles until she can do them in her sleep.

And, because I cannot stress this enough: Don't trip over my dog.

Blue Christmas

2009-12-22T09:31:00.002-05:00

More like a blue spring, actually, but it's my Christmas Wish so we'll go with it.

Most of you probably read Joanna's blog so you know already that her Clue is pregnant by Ch. Pecan Valley Draco. Much happy dancing here as I am crossing my fingers hardcore that Clue will have a special little blue kid for me when all is born, counted, weaned and evaluated.

Despite my own admonishments to myself about not getting my hopes up sky-high, I've already circled the Maine shows in Union as her (or slightly less preferably his?) show debut, and I have eight possible names jotted down on a growing list, along with another list of items I'll need for the new baby. I've weighed rearranging the bedroom based on the need for a baby crate, and casually mentioned that maybe we could forego the dining table in favor of an ex-pen in that kitchen corner. This last was met with a gimlet stare from the hubby. I may need a Plan B. I stood in Pet Quarters staring at the baby collars and debated which color would look best on a blue merle. (Is pink too girly?) And convinced myself that whatever I get I'll need a matching leash, because color coordination is important.

I've so far managed to not email Joanna for hourly updates; cyber-stalking is not attractive. 'Til the due date anyway... (I kid!! kinda...)

*ahem* As I believe I've mentioned, I have Issues.

Please, Santa? I've been a very good girl this year...

I have Issues

2009-12-16T14:54:00.004-05:00

Issue #1:
It started innocently enough. I decided I would bake Christmas cookies for folks this year rather than going the cheesecake route. This necessitated expanding my cookie collection beyond one Scottish Terrier and one dog biscuit shape because, while cute, they didn't so much shout "Christmas." So I bought a three-pack of holiday cutters. Then I found a package with 6 mini holiday-themed cutters, and I bought that too. Then I decided that I need big ones and small ones of each shape so I could make those cook jam-filled cookies with the cut out top, so I wandered into the cooking store downtown, and

Yahtzee!! LOTS of cookie cutters. Typical holiday shapes, tourist-trap-buy-this-stupid-thing-for-someone-at-home stuff like lobsters and moose. And also, a Labrador Retriever. Which gave me the idea to do a cookie-themed bag for the kennel club Christmas party and Yankee swap. (Cookie mixes, biscuit and lab-shaped cutters, dog cookies, a little booklet on baking your own dog biscuits, and two Yankee Candle holiday votives in the Christmas Cookie scent.)

Then the next day, I decided that I needed to add a Lab to my own collection, so I went back for another. And then I got to wondering if I might find more dog breed cookie cutters on line. And boy DID I! All of which leads me to...

Issue #2:
I am clearly a conformation snob. Because, when I saw this corgi cookie cutter?

The ONLY thing I could think of was: "Oh my God!! What a HORRIBLE top line!!"

Yeah. Issues.

Another Cardi Claus sighting

2009-12-16T08:56:00.005-05:00

Cardi Claus made a stop at my house yesterday, courtesy of Cindy McDonald from Foggy Bottom Cardigan Welsh Corgis. How cute is this?

The "body" of the reindeer is a jar that contained dog cookies that were, if the canine delirium was any indication, completely delicious. There was a cute ornament for the tree, and some also-delicious chocolates. There are several more dog cookies remaining this morning than there are chocolates, I'm compelled to admit.

Since I had the camera out, I decided to get some pics of the critters. This one is my favorite:

This seems to be the season for running around like a chicken with its head cut off, hence no posting in the last couple of weeks. Bad blogger!! Still have a few little gifts to pick up, and a marathon baking session planned for this Saturday, followed by hubby's office Christmas party. Frigging whoopie. But I suppose that means I don't have to cook dinner.

Aw, HELL no, sista!

2009-12-02T10:22:00.005-05:00

Don't you love reading some of the articles by so-called "behaviorists" who claim things like "dogs don't feel guilt" and "they are not anticipating consequences, just reacting to your body language," and stuff like that? I wonder sometimes when I read these things if the writer has even a passing acquaintance with dogs.

Case in point: About half the time, Elli will come into the bathroom when I turn off the shower and pull back the curtain. She's convinced that corgi tongue is a much more effective drying method than a towel. (Yeah, not so much.) But it's an on-again, off-again kind of thing. Ian, on the other hand, never comes into the bathroom when I'm showering. Because he just never knows when I might snag him and decide to bathe him. Best not to take chances.

But yesterday, when I pulled back the curtain, Ian came strutting into the bathroom. He walked over, stood with his front paws on the tub, and looked up at me. And I immediately asked, "What heinous thing has your sister done?"

Because it could not have been ANY clearer if he had suddenly started speaking English. That look plainly said, "Mom, Elli's doing something she's not supposed to, and I want no part in any of that. You need to address this situation." Good corgi!

Sure enough, I towel off and go out to the livingroom, to find Elli chewing on one of the Christmas decorations that I had apparently placed too low on the shelves. Bad corgi! True to character, SHE didn't feel any guilt over what she was doing, but Ian anticipated the scolding to come and wanted to make sure that I knew he was not a party to the destruction.

Yeah. He was clearly "just reacting to my body language." Uh huh.

What other gems have people read from some of these articles?

I hit the road (and the road hit back)

2009-11-24T13:33:00.003-05:00

Sorry no further updates from Springfield, but at $7.99 per day I only sprang for one day of wireless internet service at the hotel.

So, Friday: We awoke to pouring rain and proceeded to get drenched taking the dogs out to potty. I decided I'd wear my jeans and take my show skirt with me to avoid it getting soaked. Naturally, I forgot to take the skirt with me, so I had to show Elli in jeans. Gee, way to impress, Dawn. Elli was the only 12-18 bitch again so she went to Winner's, but no luck there, which was no surprise. The judge commented that she'd be a nice bitch when she matured, and said, "She definitely wins the 'perky award.' I would kill for that attitude." So that was nice to hear. I also got to meet Holly and Jules in person, which was really cool. :-D

Ian was in Open A around 1:00 or 1:30, I think. Nancy Withers was judging, and she's a Pem person, so she was happy to have a corgi in the ring, even if it was the "wrong" kind. She also asked if he did agility since he's in such good shape. Score one for the green beans and low fat Evo! Ian was up and happy, and his heeling was... well, no worse than usual. We survived the Figure 8 intact. He did his drop on recall just fine, and this time I remembered to give him a voice command instead of a hand signal. Yay me. On the retrieve on the flat, he again played with his dumbbell once he brought it in, but that amounted to lost points, not an NQ. Then came the retrieve over the high jump. In retrospect, I think I should have thrown it further. He went over the jump and got it, but since it was relatively close to the jump, when he made his turn radius and headed back, he came around the jump instead of over, which disqualified us. He at least held the dumbbell and presented it to me nicely that time, so... good, I guess? Broad jump was fine, and he did his stays. Rats!!

Saturday: Wow, lots of Cardis!! We were about 20 minutes late getting started for Sweeps because our Sweeps judge never materialized. One of our Cardi club members found someone to judge. I think someone said she was a Terv person, but I'm not sure. Anyway, we finally got started. Elli had company in 12-18 this time -- there were four in her class. Since she was the second one in, I had time to stack her properly on the table before the judge came to look at her, and that whole table thing went a LOT better. She also did a nice down and back, and only went bait-diving a couple of times going around the ring. When we all went around together, she did nicely since the dog in front of her was more interesting than the fuzzies on the floor. We ended up 3rd of 4 in Sweeps. She behaved well again in the regular class, but went 4th of 4.

Ian's attitude was decidedly NOT perky when it came time for obedience. He was happy enough to work outside beforehand, but when we got into the ring he was pretty distracted on the heel free. The ring on Saturday was also right between the main aisle down to the agility area, and a Rally ring, so there were more distractions than there were in the far corner where we were the first two days. It's no excuse, it just is what it is. So anyway, heeling and figure 8 were a little lackluster, but he Q'd and he did his drop on recall. AGAIN he played with his dumbbell on the flat, and again on the retrieve over the jump, but the judge passed him. He also did his broad jump, so when we left the ring we were still in the hunt. He stayed up for his sit stay, so I figured we were home free, because he NEVER breaks his down stay. Oh yeah, you guessed it. He got up to sniff a spot in front of him before I even left the ring! And he looked at me the whole time he was doing it. I definitely think I got the middle finger there.

Sunday: Sweeps again. I have no idea who drafted this particular Sweeps judge, and I don't know what breed his background is in, but suffice it to say it's not Cardigans. We started out with 5 bitches in the 12-18 class. The first bitch up was a little leery of the table. Which was not helped at all when the "judge" fricking MOVED THE TABLE WITH THE BITCH ON IT!!!!! I didn't see what went down, but I was told later that the pup snapped at him when he did that, and he excused her from the ring. What. An. Asshole. He needed a good, swift kick in the jimmies. Seriously.

Anywho, Elli ended up going 3rd of the 4 remaining. Which was just ridiculous, as the dog that he placed in 4th behind her was the previous day's Winners Bitch (of a 5-point major) and BOS. I mean yeah, it feels good not to be dead last, but come on! Elli then went 2nd in the regular class, and the poor girl who had been excused from Sweeps won the class, after the judge was very patient with her on the table.

And Ian.... hoo boy. Okay. You know how I said he gave me the finger on Saturday? Well, on Sunday, he gave me both middle fingers, with a triple fist-pump for emphasis. We NQ'd on the heel free. Figure 8 sucked, he didn't do his drop on the recall, he effed around with his dumbbell, refused to finish, and then refused the broad jump just for good measure. The one good thing I can take out of Sunday is that, when we were told to sit our dogs for the long sit, Ian put his head down to sniff again and, since we had already NQ'd (rather spectacularly at that), I took the opportunity to give him a good correction before I told him to stay and left. He at least did the stays after that.

So, we left the show grounds around 3:30 or so. I got home at 8:00. When I got up yesterday morning and went out to make a grocery run, I discovered that I had a flat tire. Further inspection showed that it is almost certainly the rim and not the tire itself, if the big dimple in it is any indication. I'm now driving around on a donut until I can get up to the dealership tomorrow to get a new rim.

I did say I'd be happy if I came home from the weekend with one green qualifying ribbon. I apparently lied. But I learned lots of good information, so it's not a total loss (well, except to the tire rim). I think I am going to hold off showing Elli for a while and pray that she at least grows some hair and starts to look like a grown-up. I may enter Ian in conformation in January at the Fitchburg shows to try and pick up the last two singles he needs, but we'll see how things go. We clearly need to do a little more work with this obedience thing.

A Leg to Stand On

2009-11-19T14:42:00.002-05:00

Well, we didn't do it in style, but Ian earned his first CDX leg today. I think the judge must have been in a good mood. :-)

Heeling was about like I expected: a little wide, a lag here and there. On the recall, I went temporarily retarded and gave a hand signal to drop instead of a voice command. Ian looked at me oddly and continued on for a few steps, but he did eventually drop, just in time to lose points but not NQ altogether.

Then, it's about the retrieves... He did go out and get the dumbbell and brought it back, so he completed the principle portion of the exercise. However, when he came back he stopped a little far out in front of me, dropped into a crouch, and mouthed the dumbbell until the judge told me to take it. I didn't move my feet, but I think I had to dislocate a couple of vertebrae and a shoulder to do so. Same thing for the high jump, only he went kind of to the side this time and played with the dumbbell. He also didn't really do a front on the broad jump, just circled around me and lost focus. But again, he performed the principle portion of the exercise, so we squeaked by.

Bottom line: A 174.5, which is about 4.5 points more than I thought we had. In all honesty, I wouldn't have been at all upset if the judge had NQ'd us, as this was NOT a good performance. We'll be practicing the retrieve tomorrow before ring time!!

As for Elli: there were three bitches of the five entered who showed up today for conformation. Elli got neither WB nor Reserve, so do the math. About what I expected. She did a nice down and back, and wasn't too bad on the table. Her trip around the ring wasn't very impressive, though, what with the sniffing and so forth.

I had said that if I went home from the weekend with 1 green qualifying ribbon I'd be happy, so if we get anything else this weekend, it'll be gravy as far as I'm concerned.

:-D

Close quarters

2009-11-17T08:11:00.003-05:00

Last night I dubbed around with the writing blog, and after a while I noticed that my feet felt suspiciously weightless -- normally I have a corgi head on each foot. I glanced around the living room; no corgis. Didn't see either one on the kitchen floor on my way through, nor were they in the bathroom. The bedrooms were all closed off. Then I heard rustling coming from the crate that's tucked between the table and the stairs to the basement. Here's what I found:

This is only a 300 size crate, so what possessed them to scrunch in there together, I don't know. Doesn't look very comfy!

Tonight I've got a trip to Walmart to make, two dogs to bathe, three loads of laundry to wash, a car to pack, and Lord knows how many shows to set up on the DVR.

Tomorrow? Springfield, here we come!!!

This and That

2009-11-12T14:49:00.003-05:00

As I'm sure most of you know from reading Joanna's blog, Clue finally came into season!!!! I am now commencing with the cautiously optimistic but hopefully not obnoxiously obsessive spazzing. I reserve the right to go into full-on optimistic freakitude if (When! Think positively!!) the future ultrasound comes back with images of multiple puplets. Say it with me: lots of blue girls... lots of blue girls...

Got the judging schedule for Springfield last night, and it looks like the only day I'll have a conflict is Thursday, which should be easy enough to fix if the obedience judge will let me go to the end of the class. Cardis are on early to mid-morning every day except Sunday, when Sweeps is at 12:15 and breed is at 1:15. Naturally. Because we wouldn't want to get a jump on the drive home or anything.

Ian did each of the Open elements correctly on the first try at class last night, so fingers crossed. It seems to be the second or third pass he'll mess up, and since you only get one shot in the ring, we may be all right. He's still heeling wide and sitting crookedly, but I'll cope.

As for Elli in conformation gaiting, and stacking on the table... um, yeah. She'll make a great obedience and agility dog. :-/

For any of you out in blogland who will be in Springfield, I'm staying at the Red Roof over in Enfield, and there are a lot of restaurants huddled around the hotels. We could plan on an informal Cardi and/or blogger dinner get-together thingy, if anyone is interested.

On the writing front, I've been wrestling with the finer points of plot progression; since the second half of the scene I posted over on the other blog is going to be important in kicking off that plot, I kinda need to have some stuff figured out. Must. Flesh out. Outline. So, more soon. For realz!

Keep 'em separated... ya ya ya...

2009-11-10T14:05:00.002-05:00

Yeah, there aren't any musical symbols I can insert into the title line, so you'll have to imagine.

A couple of you said you'd like to give my foolishness (AKA writing) a try. Rather than clutter up this blog with it, I've created a separate blog for that. I'm only going to open it to readers I've invited, rather than having it open for just anyone to wander into. If you are interested, please email me at smalltymecardigans@yahoo.com I will send you an invite. The blog is called Bartered Goods; if I ever attempt to publish anything --

*ha. hehehe. hehehehehehehe. hehehe-snort-hhehehehe*

Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. I write under the name Dayna Barter (my first name plus my grandmother's maiden name. Yeah, I don't know either. Just go with it.).

Jules and Marie, I didn't have your email addresses handy, but if you email me I'll get an invite out to you.

Springfield entries

2009-11-10T08:02:00.002-05:00

Holy crap!! Check out the Saturday/Sunday entries!!

Thursday: 3-5 (2-1) 0
Friday: 6-8 (2-1) 2
Saturday: 11-18 (3-1) 3 SWEEPS: 8-9 (0-0) 0
Sunday: 11-17 (3-2) 0 SWEEPS: 9-8 (0-0) 0

That is going to be SO COOL to see that many Cardis gathered in one spot. And Elli is SO not coming home with any points.

Anyone want to place wagers on how many days out of four I will have a conflict between conformation and obedience?

Brain hijacking

2009-11-09T15:01:00.004-05:00

Saturday night, disaster at work: I finished the book I was reading when I was only halfway through my shift! Noooooo!! I had no back-up book, and no cross-stitch project to work on. Four agonizingly slow hours with nothing to occupy my time. What to do, what to do....

I've been playing at fiction writing for years now. I say "playing" because I possess absolutely nothing that even remotely resembles anything like ambition. I make up character sheets, I research locations and various subjects, I write out a full-fledged outline, I get a few chapters in, and then... I drift off to something else and leave it all unfinished. Sure, my characters get pissed off and yell at me in my head for a while, but I've gotten good at tuning them out over the years. They generally subside after a while and go off to some dark corner of my brain to sulk, leaving me to my other pursuits. Some like to sneak up on me in the shower and whisper dialogue, or make themselves their own playlist in my iTunes library (because it sure as hell wasn't ME who downloaded three Dragonforce albums), but they've been fairly low-key overall.

But one particularly insistent protagonist seized the opportunity my idle mind presented and decided it was time I did some more work on her story. Because I don't, you know, have enough to do, what with the working 7 days a week and training two dogs for competition. She very cannily pointed out that I've got loads of down time at my security job, though, and Gee! Isn't it handy that she's been a security consultant these last three years that I've kept her languishing in my work-in-progress file? (Not that that's her real job, but anyway...)

So it looks like I've got a new project to work on at work when I'm not, um, working. If anyone likes to nag, I hereby grant permission to nag me about how many words I've written per weekend, as doG knows it generally takes nothing short of cannon-fire to overcome the static co-efficient of friction and get me moving on a project. If anyone is interested once I get stuff to the point where it's suitable for eyes other than mine, let me know. Feedback is good, especially the constructive kind. This WIP sits firmly in the contemporary fantasy sub-genre, if that's anyone's cuppa tea.

2009-11-06T09:49:00.003-05:00

I was planning to sign in today to regale you with funny tales of last night's utter humiliation at the paws of my youngest but, as is par for the course with Elli, she didn't oblige me.

It's been over a month since our last handling class, and Elli has had only sporadic training at outside locations since then. Our handling and table session at the public landing was not a resounding success; she was very focused on her Beagle buddy Mia (not to be confused with Ian's Beagle buddy, Becca), and focused little or none on me. I had a hard time keeping her gaiting in a straight line, and she was bound and determined to sniff every couple of steps. A subsequent work session at the Wag It training center yielded much the same results. Her gaiting is atrocious, her table stacking isn't much better, and she is apparently never going to have the plush coat I would like her to have. I do not anticipate her doing much of anything at the Springfield shows, frankly, other than helping to up the point count.

But I do expect her to eventually do, if not great things, then at least very good things in the obedience and agility rings in the future. So, to start working on those skill sets, I started Elli in a heeling class last night.

Ian and I have been training with Thom Lambert at Canine Connection for over a year and a half now, and I think it would be fair to say that I've gotten quite spoiled with my boy. Arguably the best-behaved and most consistent dog in his class, it's hard for me to remember that, when we started out, he didn't know how to do anything other than stand there and look pretty. It took WEEKS of daily, evening crate pad/clicker/treat sessions for him to get the concept of "down." He forged horribly when heeling, he would lie down on the sit stay every. damn. time, and he was bound to go visiting on the recall or during agility work.

In that year and a half, though, he's gone from there to being completely off-lead the entire class, including coming into and going out of the building. He's earned a CD and is ready (I hope!) to start competing in Open. He focuses, he stays with me, and while he'll never be a sharp, precise worker, he's a happy worker and he really, really wants to please me.

Little Miss Elli, on the other paw, really, really wants to please herself.

So when I headed into class last night, I was fully expecting to be humbled by the little, black, hairless whirlwind. The outings with Mia had prepared me for her total disinterest in my end of the leash; I was sure she'd be tearing to go play with the other dogs, I just knew there was no way in hell she was going to do a sit or down stay, and I was prepared for her to bark three-quarters of the time or more.

But Elli is loath to do the expected. She was excited to be there, to be sure, but as soon as we took our place in the room and I put her in heel position, she whipped her little head up and focused on me. I reinforced that liberally. Then we worked on having her sit in front and keep her focus on me, also with lots of treats for eye contact. (I swear to doG that my head is going to start flipping backwards -- for I am my dog's PEZ dispenser.) We played the Leave It game with good success, then did some sits and downs. Even with Thom knocking on the door, pounding on the heat duct, and twirling a weave pole, she stayed in her sit and/or down. The ONLY time she got up was when a huge, hyper Yellow Lab (is there any other kind?) got loose and pounced on her. I really couldn't blame her for getting up out of a down position for that, and I was sort of impressed with the fact that she didn't nail him for his rudeness. Actually, I kind of wish she had, because it might have done the Lab some good to have someone put him in his place, but anyway...

For the recall, I left her and went about halfway across the room. Elli waited until called, came running in, and gave me an awesome front, then a nice, straight finish. I may be a little biased, but I'd say she was easily the little star of her class.

As is almost always the case, I learned way more from the session than she did. I learned that she is very high drive, very motivated to work for reward, and more precise with her positioning and movement than her brother will ever be. She's also whip-smart, which is a double-edged sword; she picks things up very quickly, and she also gets bored very quickly. When Thom told us to take breaks and just play with our dogs, I had to restrict "play" to some touch games, some hand signal work, and some tricks, because any loosening of focus on my part meant she was whining, barking, and jumping to go play with the blue merle collie a few feet away.

Next week we will start doing some Choose To Heel exercises, and do some heeling as a group, which I suspect will erode some of her focus -- dogs moving in front and away from her mean the prey drive (or is that the Play drive?) is triggered, so I'll need to be prepared to "treat on the move." She does a good job heeling off lead at home, though, so I know she understands the concept. We just need to carry that over with the distraction of the other dogs.

So, this isn't at all the funny and self-deprecating little post I was expecting to write this morning. Which is good for my training program and for Elli's future obedience career, but not so much for your entertainment. Sorry, guys!

Off the soapbox and onto the Boob Tube

2009-11-05T14:01:00.005-05:00

***The following typed with tongue planted FIRMLY in cheek. It's a total waste of everyone's time. No redeeming qualities whatsoever. You probably shouldn't even read it.***

I know it seems as though I've been writing about everything BUT the dogs lately. That's because we really don't have a whole lot going on right now, other than trying to get Ian ready for the trials in two weeks, and praying against all odds that Elli grows some, you know, HAIR between now and then. So, while that's keeping us busy, it doesn't make for real scintillating reading. Hence the climbing on of soapboxes and, now, the rambling on about my second greatest passion in life, the television.

[Hey, I live in Maine. It's coming up on winter. There's not a whole lot to do, okay? Don't judge.]

There has been a long-running joke at my house about my "TV boyfriends." Yeah, plural. I mean, it's not like I won't watch a show if it doesn't have a cute guy in it or anything, but hey! It doesn't hurt matters any. I even at one point had a "TV husband," but then he got old and puffy, and started taking roles in really bad Syfy channel movies (like there are any other kind of Syfy channel movies), so we divorced. The break-up was long and painful, and spanned several seasons.

Since then, I've been cultivating a harem (hisem?) of TV beaus. It's true: I'm a big ole TV 'ho. I know these polyamorous situations can sometimes be tense and rife with jealousy, but we've all been getting on pretty well. Nathan Fillion has me on Mondays; Jensen Ackles and Simon Baker share Thursday nights. Alexander Skaarsgard steamed up the hot summer Sunday nights, while Tahmoh Penikett keeps me entertained on Fridays. (Though honesty compels me to admit that Tahmoh and I are flirting with having a Friday menage-a-trois with Amanda Tapping. Because she is magical and made of awesome.) I regularly have dinner with Joe Flanigan and Jason Momoa as Stargate: Atlantis airs on Syfy at 5:00. It's all been very fair and democratic.

But lately, a fox has stolen into the hen... uh, rooster house. A fox who does not appear to be content with the status quo. Rather than respecting my time with the others, he insinuates himself with Youtube videos of panel discussions from Cons and behind-the-scenes DVD footage. He has me Gogling (defined by Websters as ogling photos dug up through Google) non-stop. This upstart is jockeying for the alpha position in the pack, and I fear he may be winning.

I said I would never get TV-married again after the long, downward spiral I found myself in with TV-hubby number one. It's too painful to watch their looks go as they languish in a stale series, then fade ignominiously into oblivion, only to re-emerge with a bad, fake accent and dialogue a retarded three-year-old would find inane. No more worrying over series renewal, wondering what he would move onto next and how it would change our relationship. I was to remain footloose and fancy-free, at liberty to seek enjoyment where I may.

But how, I ask, am I supposed to say no to THIS?

Tall, dark, handsome... a younger man at 25, so while I may feel a tad cougarish I at least need not worry about the bloom fading too soon from the rose... A gorgeous Irish accent that would make the stupidest piece of dialogue sound like poetry -- not that he's had any stupid dialogue because, unlike my ex, HE has landed a role in an awesome BBC series. He even has cute, awesome friends (okay, co-stars). And his smile is 1000 watts.

Yes, I fear it's true: I am deeply and irrevocably in lust with Aidan Turner.*

So what is a modern, harem-having gal to do? I don't know that I can be monogamous; so many pretty, pretty boys... But, Irish! And gorgeous!

Gah.

Hey, I wonder if there are any new web photos...

*NOT the Aiden-with-an-e Turner of All My Children fame. That Aiden is just male model-type skeevy. Those bathtub photos? Ew.

Apologies

2009-11-04T12:42:00.003-05:00

I would like to officially apologize, to the country and to humanity in general, for the State of Maine.

Due in large part to a blatantly false ad campaign that amounted to nothing more than a cheap scare tactic aimed at the uneducated and the willfully ignorant, Maine's Referendum Question 1 passed, allowing a People's Veto of the previously passed law allowing for gay marriage in Maine. According to the Vote Yes campaign, a No vote meant that, basically, all Maine elementary schools would IMMEDIATELY cease any teaching of math, reading, science, etc. and focus singularly and with laser-like precision on teaching Maine's school-age children How To Be Gay.

Laughable as that sounds, it apparently convinced enough fence-sitters to vote yes. The ignorant, intolerant, homophobic a-holes were always going to vote that way, but I am bitterly disappointed that a majority of Maine voters couldn't see through that smoke screen to the real issue, which is that some people feel that it is their God-given right to tell other people whom they may love and how they may live their lives -- even when it affects there own lives NOT. AT. ALL.

"Save traditional marriage!" was their battle cry. Save it from what?! Other people being able to file their taxes a certain way? Which, again, affects them NOT AT ALL. "Oh," they say, "those people are promiscuous, they don't have monogamous, committed relationships." Hmm, a monogamous and committed relationship.... kinda like a, you know, marriage? I shit you not, this was one of the 'arguments' presented. Because, I suppose, straight people are NEVER promiscuous or anything.

"Our children will learn about gay marriage in school!" *insert outraged pearl-clutching here* Yes, heaven forbid we inform children that there are more ways than one to live. We wouldn't want them getting all tolerant and shit. Gotta grow up to be just like their faggot-hating moms and dads!! Bigotry, discrimination, unfounded hate -- these are good, traditional family values!!

But hey, there is a positive thing that we can take away from this: The Power of the People's Veto! So, for the 2010 election, I am starting a petition drive to repeal the right of blonds to marry brunettes. Blonds shall therefore be forced to marry only other blonds, and brunettes only other brunettes (redheads do not in fact exist as actual human beings; therefore they will not be referred to in any way in this petition, as sub-humans are not allowed to marry anyhow). This will lead to two distinct and separate classes of people, which is clearly how God (and Hitler) intended for it to be.

It makes exactly as much sense as denying homosexuals the right to marry.

Who wants to sign my petition?

Singing the Blues

2009-11-03T08:04:00.003-05:00

...or the lack thereof. Joanna's Clue is playing coy with the whole heat thing, so it looks like she may be skipping this cycle altogether. Bummer. On the other hand, summer/fall puppies are way better than winter puppies, so there's that. *patience is a virtue... patience is a virtue...*

Sneak Peek

2009-10-30T10:37:00.004-04:00

...at Adam Lambert's new single, "For Your Entertainment." Catchy, pop-electronica-dance type of music. Sounds very radio-friendly, and will fit in well with what's currently on the Top 40. Since this is my blog and not a squealy, "omigod-ur-so-hawt-Adam!!" type of scary fan-board, I'll leave it at that.

http://randomizeme.wordpress.com/2009/10/30/world-premiere-adam-lamberts-for-your-entertainment-single/

Picking up the Group thing...

2009-10-29T11:39:00.003-04:00

Picking this up from Jules, who picked it up from Amanda in turn:

If you HAD to choose a dog from each CKC/AKC "Group," what would you choose and why? (excluding your own breeds)

Group 1- Sporting
Group 2- Hound
Group 3- Working
Group 4- Terriers
Group 5- Toys
Group 6- Non Sporting
Group 7- Herding

This will be a really fun exercise for me considering that, at any given moment, I own at least a half dozen imaginary dogs in addition to the actual, flesh-and-blood variety that live in my house.

1. SPORTING: Nostalgia urges me to take a Golden or a Lab, although they're a little more dog than I want to handle. That size issue leads me toward the English Cocker, but I can't get on board with the whole tail-docking thing. A delusion of me someday becoming flashy and stylish (try not to kill yourselves when you fall out of the chair laughing) argues for a groomed-to-the-hilt show quality Irish Setter. FINAL ANSWER: The Golden. They make great obedience dogs, they have pretty, "girly" hair that I already know how to groom, and they generally play well with others.

2. HOUND: After the Herding group, this is probably the group I can find the second largest number of dogs I would actually consider owning (and not just at gunpoint). Which is mildly disturbing to me on a number of levels. I have an on-going fascination with sight hounds that refuses to be deterred by any number of arguments that they are, shall we say, not the most obvious choice for competitive obedience. Independence and aloofness notwithstanding, I would happily have a Pharoah Hound or an Ibizan. I adore the Borzoi and I debated adopting a rescue Greyhound; that I don't have a 6-foot fence, and my house is a mere 1,200 sq. ft. ranch, are the only reasons there is not currently a 50-mph couch potato in my home. Whippets are the obvious size alternative. I prefer something with more hair, but since the long-haired whippet isn't apt to make an appearance in the AKC register anytime soon (read: NEVER), I'd have to forego the coat. On the other end of the size spectrum, I love me some long-haired Dachshunds, either standard or miniature-sized. Ever see a mini Dachshund on an agility course? Cutest. Thing. Ever. FINAL ANSWER: I WILL have a Whippet amongst all the corgis someday, and its name WILL be Devo. 'Cause, Whip It? Yes, I really am that lame. And if I get my addition and my 6-foot fence, or if we buy a bigger house, bring on the Borzoi.

3. WORKING: My husband would really like to have a Newfoundland. And I speak the truth when I say that I have NEVER met a Newfoundland whose personality I didn't love. But my GAWD, the drool!!! And the hair!!! And the drool!!! That is one big dog to be depositing hair and slobber all over my floor (and walls, and ceiling...). One of our kennel club members has Newfs and has offered to let Nathan test-drive one for a weekend to see if it changes his mind. I can't see it changing mine. I like the looks of a nice, show-quality Doberman -- a lot. But then there are the tail-docking and ear-cropping issues. I like the looks of the spitz breeds, but the feistiness with other dogs? Not so much. PWDs are great working dog and a good size, but I'm not wild about their looks, either lion-clipped or natural. I'm just not into curly-coated dogs. FINAL ANSWER: If forced at gunpoint, I guess I would settle on an Alaskan Malamute. They're pretty, they have the hair issue but not the drool issue, they are bred to work in packs and should get along with other dogs if socialized well while young. And I've been trying to get one of my dogs to howl with me since I've HAD dogs; I bet a Malamute would oblige.

4. TERRIERS: Okay, this one is easy. (In truth, it would take the actual, physical gun to make me take a terrier, but since this is all fantasy anyway...) I've said for years that, when I turn into a crotchety old woman (notice I didn't say "if") I will get a nasty little Scottish terrier to sit on my lap, growl at people, and bark at those pesky kids playing their music too loud and trespassing on my lawn. I have full commitment to the stereotype. Cuz that's just how I roll.

5. TOYS: It's a close toss-up between the Cavalier and the Papillon. I've seen a lot of great working Papillons, and they have that whole cute butterfly ear thing going on. The Cavalier has an expression that could melt the entire continent of Antarctica and is the ultimate brush-its-hair-and-go-totally-girly-on-its-ass toy dog. But it also has the long hair on the feet, and as my Corgis will attest, I am known in my house as The Foot Nazi. FINAL CHOICE: The Papillon, by a (foot)hair.

6. NON-SPORTING: Yeah, not really my group. I think the Frenchies are cute, especially after seeing "Monster" on the short-lived series Threshold, but their reputation when it comes to training and housebreaking is not a good one. The Tibetan Spaniel is smaller and is cute, but hard to come by. I really like the Standard Poodle personality and temperament, but there's that whole curly-haired thing, and the grooming. FINAL ANSWER: The Standard Poodle. I'd just have to have a really good groomer on speed-dial to keep its sporting clip in tip-top shape.

7. HERDING: Yay, my favorite group!! I've seriously considered a number of these dogs. I love the Rough Collies, particularly the blue merles. Drawbacks are the hair, the fact that they're always bigger than my brain expects them to be, and the barkiness that I've seen with a lot of Collies. Love the looks of the Aussies, again especially the blues, but I've seen SO many Aussies who are dog aggressive, and they are probably a higher-drive dog than I want to live with full-time. I've known some really cool Belgian Terverens, I'm a little flirty with the notion of a Canaan Dog, I've owned a Pembroke in the past... and then there are the Shelties. I don't think there's ever been a time in my life when I didn't know at least one person with a Sheltie. I know, I know -- the hair, the barking (Oh! the barking...), but they are the neatest, weirdest... Okay, you know how they have the different character alignments in D&D? You don't? You weren't one of those odd, geeky, role-playing freaks in high school? Oh, me neither. I'm just going by what I've heard... oh, alright. I was totally one of those odd, geeky, role-playing freaks in high school. ANYway... one of the alignments is Lawful Evil. Characters of this alignment are highly self-motivated and not out for the greater good, but they are very organized and revere order over chaos in their pursuits. This is the Sheltie in a nutshell. There is a whole worldwide, underground, coalition of Shetland Sheepdogs out there and, believe you me, if only they had opposable thumbs they would have taken over the world a LONG time ago. The lack of that one, all-important digit has forced them to play the long game, using the stupid man-apes as pawns in their struggle to subdue the universe. When they are whirling around and barking their heads off at someone sneezing? Don't buy the act. It's all a diversionary tactic to keep us mere homo sapiens from tumbling to what's really going on. Seriously! FINAL ANSWER: Yeah, a Sheltie. They've got mind-control powers, yo.

Adding = Bad

2009-10-28T14:34:00.002-04:00

Hotel room for 4 nights: $383.00
Entry fees for obedience, conformation and Sweepstakes: $254.00
Gas to Springfield and back: $60.00
Parking for 4 shows: $20.00
Food for the weekend: $150.00, give or take

The opportunity to disqualify when my dog tip-toes through the broad jump, goes down on the long sit, or comes back around the high-jump: priceless.

Castle / Nathan Fillion

2009-10-27T15:34:00.002-04:00

I don't know if anyone else out there in Cardi Blogland watches Castle on Monday nights, but last night's episode saw the perfect homage paid to Fillion's former character, Captain Malcolm Reynolds, from Firefly. 1) Awwwww; 2) Squee!; and 3) *regretful sigh* that FOX pulled the plug on one of the best sci-fi TV series ever before its audience had had the chance to find it.

May you live forever in my DVD collection, Mal!