AKC

Today was Baby Diva’s second trial, and my first AKC Disqualification with a dog.  OK, Baby is not a dog exactly, she’s a Diva.  And whether she is born a dog, a human, or a cat, she is going to be a Diva.  That’s who she is.   It was a hard sell this morning for me to get up.  I had ideas that the day wasn’t going to be equally impressive as yesterday was, but I had to live it to find out.  I pushed any negative ideas about Baby failing the stand, or getting up on her stays, far out of my head, and focused on all that she would do.  Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, Baby had evil ideas brewing.  Here we are shortly after waking up.  One of us is not trying to be happy.

 

We arrived at the arena.  This is such a lovely statue.

 

In the ring, Baby started off with a good sit or two, but slowly, she crept out in front of me each time, until the last one before the recall, where she stopped turned her rear end outward, and sat sideways right in front of me.  Oh, I was so happy to hear the judge chuckle at that.  Oh ha ha ha.  Because I knew what was going on.  Baby was testing her boundaries.  I couldn’t correct her rude behavior, and she now knew it as we set up for the last of the moving exercises – the recall. 

The judge asked if I were ready.  A frog kept the answer in my throat until I ribbeted it out.  “Yes.”  So he told me to leave my dog, my Diva, the Queen Mother of Fort Doberdale and walk and walk and walk till I got to the other side of the ring.  I did that.  The whole time wondering what Baby had in mind for me.  I halfway expected her to be up when I’d turned around, but she was still seated, with an evil gleam in her eye.  The judge told me to call my dog. 

Baby’s head turned.  “Dog?” 

Loud and clear, I said, “Baby come!” That’s when the Diva started paying me back her grudge dollars.  She took about five steps straight toward me before the look in her eye and her body’s direction turned, and she took off – right out that ring.  I stood there the whole time waiting for my dog to come because I knew THAT could not be MY dog!  No no no.  Until the judge stepped in, and asked people on the outskirts to catch that wretched beast that just embarrassed me and forfeited our $22, I had no idea WHOSE dog that was. 

Well, there went Baby’s chicken wings.  I promised her a week’s worth of raw chicken wings for breakfast – her favorite – if she passed Sat and Sun.  Just passed.  Nothing spectacular.  She didn’t pass, but she did get her minutes of spectacular fame.  And do you know what happened next?  The judge told me Baby and I were NOT allowed back in the ring for the long sits and downs due to some uppity rule by the AKC that dogs running amuck are not permitted to rejoin the civilized members of the class. 

I walked out of that ring after someone fetched her for me, and I nearly smacked a woman on the head with my arm which was connected to that Divabeast’s leash being I was not paying attention.  That went over well. 

I started to crawl back to our station when I ran into the man with the red/tan Dobergirl and we chatted.  He told me about the day his other Dobie, a red boy named Scout, ran out of the ring on a recall because on the way into the ring, Scout eyed the pile of Frisbees on the judge’s tables that were awards and wanted one.  So he made a beeline to that table on his recall, grabbed the Frisbee on top of the pile and went looking for someone to throw it for him.  He, too, was caught – caught red-handed with Frisbee in mouth.  He had to give that Frisbee back, too, because they are for that same civilized group that Baby didn’t belong to today.

Well, I wasn’t talking to Baby most of the rest of the day, and she continued to be obnoxious to me.

  

We did get an award for the previous day, so she then tried to work me with that look that said, “You know you love me.”

 

This is the High Working Dog in trial awards – a lovely ribbon, tote and stuffed toy.  (We won the red soft crate in the raffle.  Annie will fit in that one.  We also won a chair in the raffle and a nifty cushion in that soft-sided crate.)

We also got a cookie jar with a really cute duckie that wags its tail feathers when the toy is squeaked.  There were also treats in the jar, a clicker, and that was for High Dobermann for Saturday.

 

After we finished the raffle, I had a chicken sandwich.  Baby wasn’t allowed to join me due to regulations of the arena, but to make amends, I sneaked some back in and gave it to her.  She took it and spat it on the ground.  SPAT IT ON THE GROUND!  That’s all sister.  I said, “Baby, you eat that and you eat that now before I shove it up your nose!” She looked at it, flipped it around, and with her front teethies, pulled the chicken off the bread, ate the chicken, and left the bread behind.  I guess she’s on a low-carb diet.  Or she was just being a bee-othcy Diva. Here’s a picture of Baby snubbing her leftovers.

 

She didn’t want the Animal crackers she usually loves, the Beefeater’s stick, or the chicken flavored bread. She’s a Diva.That brings me to this boy.

Morris will not work for his Rottie mom, aka Raffle Goddess, in the ring anymore.  Yesterday, he got a total of 27 points out of 200 in Open B.  I say he is a Divo. A few weeks ago during obedience night practice, I said hello to Morris.  He was lying down by the bleachers.  Baby greeted him too.  During this time, I gave Baby an Obey treat.  She loves them.  Morris’s eyes swelled, so I offered him one.  Most dogs as big as Morris would take it and swallow it whole.  Not Morris.  He took the treat – size of my pinky finger nail – crunched it in half as he lay there on the ground, spat the 2 pieces out, sniffed, OK not bad, so took one half in and crunched it and swallowed.  OK, not bad.  Took the other half and ate it.  This while Baby watched.  Baby LOVES to do that to her subjects at home…she is the Queen Mother.  If she can prolong eating something, so they can watch her eat, all the better.Then I watched Morris in the ring with his handler, and saw how he, too, was paying back grudge dollars.  That is when I had to come to the conclusion that Morris and Baby are cut out of the same cloth – the Diva/Divo cloth.  Morris is a Divo. 

His Rottie Mom is handing Morris’s obedience reigns over to his Rottie Dad, so we will see what transpires there. Morris seems to be a Daddy’s boy, and no matter what, you can’t change that. A Divo Daddy’s Boy! God bless him, and his Rottie parents. (I wish someone would say that to me and my Rotten…er, Royal DoberDiva.)

To end this story on a sweet note, here’s a red rose that was blooming in my garden over the weekend.

Helen

We woke up early for a Saturday.  6:30 a.m.  Well, that’s early for me, the human of the household.  Though for some reason, most of my Doberchildren can get up at any hour and are pretty much raring to go and do anything wide-eyed and eagerly. Not me. Before leaving, I took this picture.  Baby was shaking with excitement.

Even with my morning-person disorder, Baby and I got to the arena right on time due to my over-estimating how long it would take us to get there. 

 

Baby was ready to go onward and upward.

  

As a member of the DOCOH, I volunteered to help at the raffle table, but warned Rose, the raffle goddess

 

(she does a spectacular job on the raffle every year), that I would be no good until I was finished showing my darling Dobergirl.  And it was true.  But Rose had all the help she needed and thensome, so all was well.  

Baby sat while I set up her ex-pen including triple blankey and towel flooring. We were at a rodeo arena.  The ground is red dirt.  

Look at Baby in her ex-pen 3/4 away from me at the raffle tables…that’s a lot of raffle!

 

We practiced around the arena, so at that time, we didn’t have much time to get to know the other exhibitors for the fact that we, OK, I was nervous.  It had been a very long time since I’d shown in a serious class and due to the fact that Florida does not offer practices matches as California had, Baby and I hadn’t had the chance to practice in the ring even.  Something happened, though, and we clicked – even though the Golden and handler before us peed right where everyone does the recall – OK, the Golden did, not the handler.  That seems to happen to us regularly.  At the last trial Pippin and I showed for Pip’s Rally Novice degree, the dog before us also tinkled.  That was an indoor competition, but it was entirely on-leash. 

Whatever the case, Baby and I were able to forgo the pee interference, and we acted like a team.  It was good.  She stayed with me on the heeling, her stand was solid, and her recall was splendid.  She even picked up speed on the way to me, as if she were happy to come!  Listen, she’s a Diva.  One never knows when a Diva will retaliate on a long-held grudge, so I am just thanking God today wasn’t the day. 

As  for our sits and downs, they are always nerve wrecking for me, and today was no different.  Baby was restless and intrigued with the goings-on around her.  On the down stay, she got into a sniffing rampage during the second minute, licked her front leg because it suddenly need cleaning in the last minute, and when the judge said, “Back to your dogs,” I said, “Hallelujia!” and Baby stayed till the exercise was finished.  We rallied as a team till the end and Baby at 10-3/4 got her first leg.  We even got a 3rd place and a yellow ribbon, along with a very appropriate prize – a clicker, liver treats, and a new treat bag for me to wear while training. 

 

Here’s one of our group – 1st through 4th.

This was a totally worthwhile prize because I use clicker training primarily, and we will use these trophies.  The person who helped me with the above picture happened to mention when my camera stopped working that she dropped it.  DROPPED MY CAMERA?!  MON DIEU!  I am still shaking.  That taught me a lesson, though.  Will not ask Sister Sledge to help out in the camera department again, though I thank God my blessed camera is still working.

Later on, when we got to relax behind the raffle tables, one of the funniest things of the day was a handler whose dog was about to break on the sit stay suddenly got a whopping cough, and couldn’t stop.  The handler coughed all the way from the line-up back to the dog.  What a trick!  As if no one knew…eh…trying to keep the dog from moving.  Meanwhile, the dog did get up on the down stay and strolled over to its handler.  Bummer.  Especially after that performance.  That creative handler probably threw the back out for nothing. 

Here are some pictures of other dogs that showed. 

First, there were quite a few Dobies showing today, which was really nice.  Here are three of five or more I saw. 

Here is a very nice man with his very nice red girl, who is 11 months old, and they showed in Novice B also.  He is also the man who owns the red boy named Scout, whose Frisbee story will be recounted in tomorrow’s blog.

This is a handler who shows her Dobies in advanced classes.  She has a pair, if not three, she is showing, but today, she brought two.

 

Here is Pete and his red girl.  Pete and I tied for High Scoring Working Dog and Dobie on Saturday.  Sunday, as you will find out in the next post, Pete and his girl came out on top, and won again that day.  Instead of having a run-off, Baby and I got the prizes today, and Pete and his girl on Sunday.

 

These four Boxers are owned by a man who is very involved in dog sports.  Two of his Boxers are German imports.  The outter cages are the males, and inner are the females.   The couple who owns these four had only one entered on each day, yet they brought all four to socialize them.  They are training them in Shutzhund as well.  I learned this breed originated in Austria.  The handlers of these dogs are very dedicated as setting up four crates and working with your dogs all day is hard, especially when you are showing a dog in a trial.

I love Poodles, and though I have never had one, quite a few family members had them during my childhood.  I wasn’t as fond of them then as I seem to be now.  Though no breed will ever top my Dobies, I would love to have  a poodle someday.  Standard is preferable…though a mini wouldn’t be undesirable.  This little love is 14 years old and she is striking.  Her beak is so feminine.  Love her!

And as seniors go, besides the poodle and Baby, there was a team with a sweet black/white Aussie, who is also between 10 and 11.

 

They were entered in Novice A, but the little dog moved on the stand.  She is an agility dog, so has had a lot of practice moving around the ring over the years. 

This is the Raffle Goddess’s husband, Harold, and his handsome boy, Morris.

This is our club’s president, Harryette. 

 

Baby Diva – so cute!  She was the only black-and-tan Dobie I saw today, by the way.  

Here is a team with a sweet-as-can-be bi-color Border Collie.  This girl is an absolute angel, and less hyper than the average BC.

 

Here we have the Raffle Goddess showing off some of her prizes to an exhibitor.

 

All exhibitors were given a nifty treat sample after showing through the moving routine.  Baby got to eat her special treats for doing a good job.  She couldn’t help getting a little of that red dirt on her nose.

Here is Baby getting ready to go home.  She’s so proud!  So am I!

 

And later, Baby chowed down on a pair of chicken wings.

I promised her if she got both legs this weekend, she would get chicken wings for breakfast everyday this week, so if tomorrow is another good day, we will stop at Costco on the way home for a slab of scrumptious raw wings for the Queen Mother. As for me, I found out that Publix gives a nifty bag out if you buy 4 bottles of wine at once!

Baby may be the only Diva in the house…

but the Dobermom gets to indulge now and then, too.

Helen

Today is the eve of Baby’s obedience trial, aka Dog Obedience of Hollywood’s AKC obedience trial.  So what I did at lunch “to her” I am sure she is going to be holding against me and taking revenge at the most inappropriate time or times this weekend. I gave her a bath.  Not only that, but I put her on a leash and collar and tied her to the fence with just a towel to lie on, in the sun to stop her from going in the dirt for a gusto roll. This all took place within 15 minutes, maybe 20, and “we” were not pleased.  I have the picture to prove it. 

 

It wasn’t an easy day this Dog Trial Eve.  Morning was the usual wake up and run around like a mad dog to get everyone pooped, peed, fed and cleaned up after.  I try to keep right behind the poops being we have several poop eaters here at Fort Doberdale.  Dare I name them?  Oliver, Ginger, Lilian, Leissl, and Luna is on the cusp.  Dobermann have a propensity towards this nasty habit, so it is my duty to do as much in the way of beating them to these golden brown or just plain ol’ brown nuggets.  This game I played while fixing the Posse’s crock pot this morning with chicken, potatoes, carrots and spices, making Ginger’s special immune-boosting concoction, pulling out laundry to do at lunch and realizing Luigi was down to his last two meals and making note to start the little crock pot for him at lunch as well.   

Lunch?  That involved delivering the six boxes of newspapers I collected off of six floors of high rise that save them up weekly for me.  The papers go to our local wildlife center, which takes in small pets such as rabbits, gerbils, rodents, reptiles, birds, whatever, that’s not a dog or cat.  After delivering those goodies, I scram to get gas, go home, let everyone out, while I fix Luigi’s crock pot, start a load of laundry, give Baby her bath, find an ex-pen to take for tomorrow, pull the trash out for trash day tomorrow, pick up more poop, hose off more pee, make a sandwich, cup of tea, eat, drink and be merrily on my way back to work, where I find out one side of my pants on the pocket has a wet spot the size of Baby’s entire head.  Ewwkay.  And she has the nerve to be holding a grudge?   

At work, a supervisor asked me about a package I’d sent for him on Wednesday.  It was slated for overnight, and it took two days for delivery through Fedex.  Everyone likes to use Fedex because it’s supposed to be so darn dependable, and it’s more expensive than the alternatives, but I haven’t found a difference.  Back at the ranch, I explained to said supervisor that I did not set delivery up for two-day and showed him the proof.  I explained to him about Mercury in retrograde and his eyes glazed over, so I left. 

An hour, maybe two, later a co-worker asked me to follow her and showed me how one of our doors on the floor opens without the use of our security badge.  This is bad.  Employee offices and spaces have been burgled when the doors were working.  So I called the head of facilities, and left her a voicemail.  Then I called the head of facilities secretary, and he said there are several doors on several floors that suddenly had this phenomenon happen – doors opening for people without badges – and they were on it.  I asked when this started and was told on Wednesday.  So I gave my obligatory explanation about Mercury’s retrograde and after hearing a pause was told to be positive.  I explained it didn’t matter how positive I was, Mercury was in retrograde.  That may also be a good reason why the elevators, three of six, all opened boing boing boing for me when I returned from lunch.  Stuff like that hardly happens for me.  Mercury does the opposite for us now that he’s in retrograde, so not only one but three lovely chariots opened.  If only my camera were ready.   

At home, I found enough to do until it was time not to do it.  Baby and I did not get to practice even once today.  God bless us both.  Tomorrow is the fun. Helen