First Dog Show
October 29, 2005 - Austin. This was our first dog show with Weegie. She was nine months old. We had entered Saturday only, because I wasn't sure I'd even go through with it. We'd been going to a Wednesday night conformation class, but we were not doing very well. Weegie was unruly, and I didn't feel either one of us was learning anything. I'd been reading books, though, so I brashly decided to go ahead and enter a real show. I couldn't see how else to get started.
The Austin show is held “outside under cover” at the Expo center east of town. A huge, warehouse-like building with packed dirt floors opens up on all sides. Though it is still warm at the end of October, we are in shade with a good cross-breeze and plenty of natural light.
The Westminster Kennel Club dog show and its send-up, the mockumentary Best in Show, form what most people outside the dog world think dog shows are like. They couldn't be much farther from the mark. Dog shows as most of us know them do not happen at night, and there is no audience. A dog show is a daytime event more like a county fair than a show at Madison Square Garden – in fact, most dog shows take place at fair grounds or county exposition centers.
A typical AKC show in Central Texas draws about a thousand dogs of a hundred breeds or so. There seem to be about the same number of dogs as people, and only a few spectators; it is a participant’s sport. The spectators are usually isolated couples or families who wander through the grooming and crating areas looking at the different breeds backstage, so to speak.
The real action is in the breed rings, and for most of us, it is under the radar in the regular classes -- the age groups and other divisions where the dogs who are not yet champions vie for points. Most of us never see the groups, and I do mean that we do not even see them, unless there’s a particular dog we’re interested in. Out of a thousand people, only a smattering gather for the groups, and it’s a different crowd for each group. Why would I watch the hounds? If I watch anything, it's my own non-sporting group. By the time they get to Best in Show, we are back at the motel.
When we arrived at the Austin show, Weegie was so excited she started barking and couldn’t stop. I had to sit her down on the sidelines and hold her mouth shut. A couple of Eskie exhibitors came right up to us and introduced themselves. They are quick to spot a new dog in their own breed, and they knew from the catalog who we were. Or rather, they knew who our dog was. They knew more about her pedigree than I did.
Does Weegie look just a little bit worried? I was. I was afraid she'd bite the judge.
We found our ring and a crowd of white dogs just like us. I knew I’d have to circle the ring, put Weegie on the table, show her teeth, and then trot her across the ring and back. But when? I couldn’t figure out all the classes, even with the catalog in front of me. First the males went in, class by class, then the females. Everybody else knew who was up when. We hung on the sidelines until everybody turned and looked at us.
“Get in there!” We went. We were all by ourselves, the only one in the six to nine-month female puppy class.
Before I had a chance to get nervous, the judge approached and greeted me. I knew her and she remembered me from years ago when I was first showing Wily in obedience. She asked about Wily and commiserated softly when I said I had lost her the summer before.
I had to be told what to do every step of the way around the ring. It looks easy enough: walk in a circle, stand around, get up on the table, get back down, walk around some more.
People ask me what is difficult about this simple routine and what the difference is between doing these things and doing them well. It's a good question, and it's not just rhetorical. Clues can be found in the picture to the right: look how my dog and I are standing in front of the judge. This is the point where we are supposed to stack. Weegie's back legs cower under her as I pull her face away from the judge, who is trying to get a look at Weegie's head and expression.
Weegie sat down three times in the winners class. In spite of that, she was reserve winners bitch. Not too bad. She's a good dog. A nice dog, as they say. And having gotten out alive, I was hooked. I was going to have to try this again. We would go to Waco.
