The Dog Show From Hell, or Showing Your Own Dog Is Such A Relaxing
Hobby!!!

(Names have been changed to protect the sheepish!!)

Puppy wasn't scheduled to show until 2:30 on Sunday, one of the last
breeds of the day.  We left home about 10:30 a.m.  Since the state
(AZ) has raised the speed limit on many highways to 75, you can make
REALLY good time, even though some of it is true mountain driving.

(Dogshowtown is at 7000 feet elevation, Hometown at 1100).  So we
wail up the road to Dogshowtown and get there early.  I figured Puppy
and I would have a nice, leisurely warm-up and then saunter over to
Ring 8 and watch Mr.  Judge for a little while.

Except that when I parked, I wound up next to a nice gal I know,
Charlotte, who shows Small japanese dogs.  I had noticed in the
catalog that she was only showing on Sunday and had entered two dogs
and a bitch. I was no more than out of the car before she had me
cornered, saying desperately, "Would you take one of the boys into
the ring for me?

My boyfriend usually helps, but he had company show up and he
couldn't come with me today!"  So of course I said that I would be
glad to help her. Small japanese dogs were in Ring 8 just before my
breed.  I would have time while the males of my breed were  in the
ring to prepare my female pup and get her into the ring on time. 

An aside here.  Small japanese dogs are not my favorite breed.  Some
of them can be nasty, nippy little beasts, especially males.
Charlotte's two boys absolutely DETEST each other!

The one she wanted me to deal with is named  Something's
Sushifujiyamakatsu, otherwise known as Bubba.

I have always wondered if "Sushifujiyamakatsu" might be Japanese
for "Mean Little B-stard". Bubba and the other male cannot be 
allowed near one another or the fur really flies!!

To make a long story shorter, after Charlotte had cleared the area, I
bent down to take Bubba out of his crate.  Before I knew what had
happened, he had blasted up against the crate door like a freight
train,  popped it open, and had taken off running, full overdrive and
accelerating!  Have you ever chased a Small japanese dog around a
high school campus at 7000 feet while TRYING to yell, "Loose dog!"? 

I hadn't, either, and it will be a cold desert day in July before I
try it again,  lemme tell you!  We did manage to catch him, but by
then, he was so tired that all the curl was gone from his tail. 
Needless to say,  he did not win! I had JUST enough time to hand him
off, grab Puppy, and gallop back to Ring 8.  As I arrived at the
gate, I realized that I was shaking,  gasping for air, and pretty
sweaty.

Another aside:  The Great Small japanese dog Chase took place around
rings 5,6,7 and 8.  It must have looked like one of those old movies
where people come charging out of one door, chase each other around
for a while, disappear through another door, then show up again
through a door they could not logically be coming through because
it's on the wrong side of the hallway.  Real Abbott and Costello
stuff.

I know very well that every judge, steward, exhibitor and dog in and
near all four rings had a great view of the proceedings and watched
with considerable interest.  The day's extra event!

Okay, so I'm not in the best condition I've ever been in, but it's
time to show Puppy. As we went into the ring, I discovered that my
right leg sort of wasn't working.

Mr.  Judge says, "Take 'em around". I gave it a shot, but I kept
listing to starboard!  Puppy looked up at me as if to say, "What's
going on, Mom?'

Did I mention that on top of everything else, it was WINDY,  and I
mean blasts of up to 40 mph.  People's canopies and sun umbrellas
were taking off like big birds, and even the tents between the
rings were frighteningly flappy.  Ring 8 and the examining table were
set up so that, except for a very brief stretch on the go-around, all
that wind was blowing on Puppy's rear and her sensitive little hoo-
hah.

She was not thrilled.  She was also CHILLY, as were the others of her
breed and type. So we now have this hobbling basket case on one end
of the lead and a shivery little dog with her tail clamped down tight
over her privates on the other end.  Mr.  Judge nodded to us when it
was our turn for the table.  I bent down to pick up Puppy and
discovered that my arms were locked at the elbows;  I could not seem
to bend them!

(Muscle waste product toxins or something!)  I really didn't know if
I could get this seven pound dog up on that table or not. I finally
straight-armed her up and just sort of dropped her at the edge.  I
couldn't have stacked her if my life depended on it!

Mr. Judge gave me a funny look, as if to say, "This is too nice a dog
to have a nincompoop like you on the end of the lead.  Where's the
REAL handler?  And why do I feel like I've seen you somewhere
before?"  

I gave him a sickly grin as he very nicely and politely with a
twinkle in his eye, reached over and positioned one of Puppy's front
legs. Then he said, "Take her around," and I tried, but my leg still
wasn't working and the wind was blowing harder than ever. I think he
gave her the blue ribbon because a) he liked her, b) she was nicer
than the other entries and c) he wanted to see if there was any more
to our act. 

He was not disappointed.When we returned to the ring for Winners
Bitch, he said, "Take 'em around." By then, my leg was okay, but I
realized after about three steps that I had another problem.

The day before, I had gone all out and worn pantyhose and the whole
rig. Of course, when we got home all the dogs went psycho and the
pantyhose were history.  I didn't have another pair of the right
color, so on Sunday I just threw on socks and sneakers.

After those first three steps in the ring, it became obvious to me
that the Great Small Japanese Dog Chase had done something to the
elastic in my underpants.  I don't know if it was body heat,
stretching, the altitude, or what, but that elastic had given up the
ghost and the panties were headed south.

I figured I had two choices: 1) Let 'em drop and risk a) getting
tangled and breaking my neck and b) never being able to show my face,
much less anything else, in a ring again or 2) clamp my knees
together and muddle through. 

Looking back on it, I should've just let 'em go, but it seemed like a
lousy idea at the time, so I clamped the old knees and went around
the ring like a demented duck.  Once again  Puppy looked at me like I
had lost my marbles. The lady who was behind me likes to move her
dogs FAST, so I  figured she would pass me if she was really unhappy.

She didn't.  We all ended up in a jumble at the end of the circle. We
sorted ourselves out, and Mr. Judge looked us over.  He kept glancing
at Puppy.  I felt he was trying to tell me something....like
maybe "Lady, if you can do something to convince me that she deserves
it, I would like to acknowledge your dog, because I like her, but YOU
are WEIRD!

WB went to a bitch a bit bigger than Puppy and who, IMHO doesn't have
as nice a head.  I forget who took reserve, but it wasn't us.

As soon as I stepped out of the ring, people were asking me,"What the
h-ll was THAT?" All I could say was, "Not now, I'm too tired."

I managed to lug dog and equipment back to the car and drive home. 
When we got to the house, I did something I NEVER do.  (Never say
never!).  I had to pee so bad I though I was gonna die, so I told
Puppy I would be right back after I ran to the bathroom.  As I shut
the car door (having long since clicked onto automatic pilot from
fatigue), I realized that I had locked the keys and the dog in the
car and I didn't have a spare key.  Fortunately, the sun was almost
down, it wasn't hot and Puppy had water in her crate. 

I called AAA (American Auto Club) and a man arrived with a slim-jim
and opened the car door. When I scooped Puppy out of her crate to
cuddle her and apologize, the guy's eyes bugged right out of his
head.  "J-sus Chr-st," he exploded.  "How long has she been IN there?
All her hair has fallen out!"  After I finished having hysterics and
explaining that she is a naturally hairless Chinese Crested,

I took Puppy inside. When I opened the back door to get the dog bowls
to feed everyone, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  Wallace,
the Australian Herding Dog pup we are fostering, had managed to jimmy
open my wardrobe cabinet and the entire back yard was festooned with
bras and...here we go again....panties.  Actually, some of it was
PIECES of bras and panties!

I cleaned up the wreckage, fed the dogs, crawled into bed and pulled
the covers over my head. My friend B... says that the panties thing
happened to another friend of his. The timing was such that as she
swooped up to the judge, presenting her dog, the undies dropped.  He
gave her Best of Breed. I will have to remember that!  And hopefully,
Mr. Robert J. Judge will have gone to that big Best in Show in the
sky before I ever have to deal with him again!  Oh, well.  At least
everyone was safe and sound at the end of a VERY long day.

And that is why I show dogs...

.....It is such a

..........

........

..........RELAXING hobby!!!

That was Great!!! ;-)

Thankyou that was very funny and I would like to sympathise but laughing to hard at the momemt.

Nikki

:D :D :D trying to stop laughing :D

I needed a good laugh ;)

This is the main reason I wear trousers to show my dogs. I can just imagine being asked to 'do a triangle please' and the elastic giving way.

I really needed a chuckle, doesn't it always happen at once?
Well it can never be any worse!!!!! Or can it?
Fi xxxx

That was so funny, i am crying sat here :D can you let me know what other shows you will be at cos i would gladly travel to america just for the laugh! well done it sounds like you had a great day :)