The Bubble: A Trip Down Memory Lane

The Bubble: A Trip Down Memory Lane

I have been reading a number of interesting stories and articles in SHOWSIGHT in recent months, but one did stand out in the March issue. That was about Westminster, and the return of the celebrated dog show to Madison Square Garden. I was fascinated to read how many people had their own memories of the historical event and celebrated its return. It prompted my own trip down memory lane.

It was my second visit to the United States before I left my life in England. I went over specifically to visit Westminster, hoping to meet some of the people who had already become pen friends with me and see dogs that I would otherwise never have a chance to see. People had flown to New York from all over the country, with breeders of every breed and from every state in the nation. The Statler Hilton Hotel was right next door, and the show never stopped. Once the exhibition was over for the day, the parties continued next door where all groups went out to dinner.

We met people in the elevators going from one party to the next. We met people who would invite us to another. I had been staying in NYC myself, but not at the Statler, and I made my way to the building to look for a friend who was going to meet me there. I was walking down a carpeted hallway near the banquet halls and a big blonde woman came running up, calling my name. I stopped and she came up to me asking, “Are you Stephanie? I am Michael!” and gave me a big American-style hug.

The late Michael Allen and I had become pen friends because we had common interests. She created the breed magazine Afghan Hound International, and I wrote a monthly column for her with news from Great Britain. I discovered that we had a common interest in American Cocker Spaniels and she sent me my first import, Am. Ch. The Agitator. I showed him at Crufts the following year, and he won best Any Variety Not Separately Classified (equivalent to Best in Miscellaneous). Michael and I had never met until my trip to Westminster.

She ushered me into one of the banquet halls where a large group of Afghan Hound owners and breeders was seated around a table, eating oysters. Yes, oysters by the bucket load, and we all got to know each other. One person I met was the late Scott Parsons, and Scott and I became good friends. But the high point for me was that he asked me to show one of his dogs for him. Yes, at Westminster! I had the opportunity and honor of exhibiting at The Garden with Ch. Westwinds Lord Ian. Scott had brought two dogs with him from California, and he was showing Ch. Westwind’s Dorian Of Grandeur himself. That was an experience which I will never forget.

My second trip down memory lane was triggered by Sheila Goffe’s excellent contribution, “Ten Actions to Take Now to Protect Purebred Dogs and Our Sport,” about what we as individuals can do to respond to the animal rights organizations’ continuing onslaught against the dog world. Sadly, most people are not prompted into doing anything until it affects them personally. Worse, 25 years ago when the AR movement was pushing anti-breeder legislation across the country state by state and county by county, there were people who would preach that if you are doing nothing wrong it will not hurt you. Many were discouraged from fighting back, and since then, things have devolved into apathy, as I wrote some months ago. I would urge people to read what Sheila Goffe wrote and do something!

This takes me back to when I was in a situation that affected ME! I had imported two American Cockers to the UK and they had to spend the mandatory six months in quarantine. This was back in the 1960s. Their time was almost up when news broke that an imported dog had developed rabies. The Minister for Agriculture was going to make a statement at a press conference the next day, and the quarantine period would be extended. It affected ME, so I did not want to wait to hear about it on the 6 o’clock news!

My first reaction was that I had to see for myself. My father was a well-known Fleet Street journalist, but he had already passed away, so I called one of his old friends to ask him if he could find out where and when the press conference would be held. He called back with the details, and I was up early in the morning, took a train to London, and made my way to the site of the conference. I signed myself in as a representative of an American magazine. That was when I got stage fright!

I was terrified. I didn’t know what I was going to do, or how I was going to learn what I needed to know. Here I was, an absolute nobody from rural England, wanting to know what the Minister for Agriculture was going to say or do. Soon he and his entourage were walking down the aisle where I was sitting. I don’t know what I expected, but as he walked down, I saw this unimportant-looking man and I looked at him and said to myself, “I’m afraid of HIM?”

After he had finished his speech, I stood up and asked my question. I wanted to know what the British government was going to do about the dogs that were already in quarantine which would be staying there for months longer than their owners had planned. My own two were almost ready for release, and that was six months more that I did not want to pay for! My question was: “Will the British government be paying for the extra costs that the owners of dogs already in quarantine were not expecting?” He replied, “Yes!” The other reporters then started interviewing *me*!

The moral of the story is, when something comes up and your local city or state government has public meetings, go there! Stand up and use your voice. Don’t be afraid to ask the questions that need to be asked, because if I could do it, so can you.