The Dog Days of Winter

I was always a cat person – not that I didn’t like dogs (although it always appeared that they didn’t care for me) but growing up we never had dogs. Grampa Roddy had a beagle named Dinah that howled a lot when we walked through the yard, and step-brother Billy had a Weimaraner named Dusty for a while. Billy shipped out to sea and Dusty stayed, until his constant jumping the fence became too much trouble. Meanwhile I would get bit doing my paper route and even Golden Retrievers would growl at me while hiking. Then I married HerMajesty – the ultimate dog lover (if you’ve seen her with a baby, put a dog in it’s place – same effect).

Now I must admit we have owned some fun and friendly dogs over the years. Currently we have Lily the shy Bearded Colley, BamBam the uber-friendly Pomer-chon (1/2 Pomeranian, 1/2 Bichon), and Champ the gay Beagle (male dog who ADORES men).

Every December there is a big dog show at the Bayside Expo and as part of HerMajesty’s Christmas I bring her in for a day. She always contemplates which breed she should get into when she someday decides to show, or which breeds would be good for the various kids when they get to have their own purebred someday. Of course, she would always try to get me to commit to a breed(s) that might interest me. As I have indicated, I’m not specifically a dog person – but I admire a lot of the super-sized dogs. Using the disclaimer that “if we had the money and lots of land” (fenced in – fencing is expensive so the less likelihood of it ever becoming a reality) I could see myself with a Newfoundland, a Bernese Mountain Dog, a Great Pyrenees, or my true favorite – an Irish Wolf Hound (seriously – I’m 6’3” and a bit shaggy myself and like to be different and stand out, and not so seriously – they have a short life span).

So again we spend the day with the dogs, with HM reveling in the sights, sounds and smells of a thousand dogs in a large but enclosed space, with me tagging along carrying her chair and soaking up the overflow of love (cause some of that abundance of love is likely to spill onto me if I’m not stupid and blow it).

This year had an extra element to it. Our Jamie joined a 4-H dog agility club and is training BamBam, and HM has a college professor who shows nationally in agility. So we spent a good period of time and attention to this sport. Far different than showing for conformation where the handler simply puts the dog on display for a judge who compares it to the description of what the perfect example of the breed should look like, this is a SPORT (NOW you’re talking my language)! This is a personal challenge! This is a very skilled trainer teaching a very smart dog to follow some very difficult maneuvers through a very complicated obstacle course at a very fast speed! The dog can get too excited and make a mistake which loses time or points, or the handler can make a mistake which confuses the dog into going the wrong way. But winning or losing is totally based on ability, intelligence, strategy and being on the mark on a given day – and performing better & faster than the competition on that day. Not much different than a relay race, a hockey game, or doubles tennis (except that the dog is ecstatic at the finish line win or lose). THIS I could get interested in. And this can be done with any dog – granted some are better suited than others (I'm thinking my future WolfHound would not be a natural - envision a small horse going through the weave-poles! - I would have to downsize to something zippier), but there are different qualifying times for each breed. So you can have your dog for loving companionship, train him to be reliably obedient, and then get the challenge of true team competition – and if you are an adrenalin junkie, get a Border Colley and it becomes an Extreme Sport!

OK – so at my age and with our lifestyle and finances (or lack of) I am pretty safe. It’s highly unlikely that we shall go beyond Jamie and BamBam and 4-H exhibitions – but now I can honestly say to my wife “if we had the money and lots of land” and not have it sound like a blatant easy excuse out. The tightwad builder in me says “give me some plywood and PVC piping and I could make those obstacles cheaper than buying them”. So if you see me in the side yard with some strange contraptions everywhere, give my cats a pat – they may be feeling neglected.