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A reflection on dog show culture, social media’s impact, and the urgent need to restore respect, decorum, and professionalism.
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I am constantly reminded that the world we live in is mirrored in the world we play in. Behaviors from a professional life, a career path, and a social life all combine to create an alternative world that we visit when attending the dog shows we enjoy. The culture of the show, the society we created and the family bonds we share, are all a part of the tapestry for the regular attendee. Work-life balance is so required to keep our hobby grounded and the realities of real-life events separate from the insulated dog show atmosphere. But as our world loosens in decorum, so too have acceptable behaviors in our dog show community. Some recent behaviors have highlighted for me some less pleasant experiences which have resulted in my want to see some return to a more controlled time for etiquette. I know we have lost some of our more formal traditions and pageantry, as well as respect and reverence for individuals and their unique opinions, and it is time to return to that.
Since the dog show world greatly mimics the world we live in, people have become more casual and less private with their opinions than they used to be. Social media has become an avenue to form and share your own opinion. When we sit at home, looking at social media or watching television, we become armchair quarterbacks, where we have these commanding opinions that we volunteer online. However, unlike the dog show judge, many people who post their feedback online don’t take the required anatomy course. They don’t take the breed exams and they don’t fill out the required paperwork to get the job done so that their opinions would actually have validity. They merely have unsolicited, unprofessional opinions.
The educated opinions of a judge, whether they’re a good judge or a bad judge, are unique because they’ve gone through the process of getting Kennel Club approvals to have an educated opinion to share. You don’t get to have that kind of opinion just because you sit behind a computer. Those opinions are not as valid as someone who is trained in the method, like it or not. Dog showing exhibitors come in many forms; the weekend warrior, the diehard breeder, the successful handler, and the secret agent. The eclectic and diverse skillset of exhibitors fill each ring at every show. The wide-ranging talent and knowledge base pose a hardship for the adjudicator to be able share his or her knowledge equally to the entrants. Not everyone has the ability to receive the messaging in the same way. Mental clarity and an objective reaction to the outcome are necessary.
Social media posts are like outtakes, footnotes, and annotations. There are certain comments posted online that simply are not as valid as others. Experienced judges and exhibitors focus on the positives. For example, when selecting photos, they’ll pick the best one taken and leave the others, that don’t show the full potential of the subject, on the cutting room floor. The objective is always to present the best image. However, those who are inexperienced might look at the cutting room floor and say, “Well, look at all of those bad shots. See how many it took to get it right!” Others will take those unflattering shots and smear them on Facebook for the world to see and pass judgement. That behavior is detrimental.
Today, more than ever, we have exhibitors and/or breeders who leave the ring frustrated, with an inability to receive their dogs’ placement in a positive light and use it constructively to go back and have a good faith look at why they were placed as they were. Instead, they often take to social media and post, “Well, how can that be?” in the hopes of finding support or sympathy for their position or perspective.
I’ll use the following example: One time when I was judging, there was a Bred-by dog which was very difficult to go over in a breed that is known to be upstanding, courageous, protective, and commanding of his space. Well, the dog was afraid, and the well-dressed exhibitor was struggling. So, I said to the exhibitor, “Let me have a piece of your bait to see if he’ll take it from me.” In my opinion, it was already over for the dog, but I thought, let me use this short time to do something constructive and try to have a good experience instead of just dismissing the entrant, so the exhibitor has something positive for the day. I wanted the exhibitor to receive value out of the entry fee. The dog took the bait but refused another go over, so I said to just take him down and back to loosen him up and we’ll try again. Well, as they came back, I heard the exhibitor call the dog “Trouble.” So, trying to make the exhibitor feel a little more comfortable in a very awkward situation, and to make light of the moment, I said, “That’s probably not the best name for him today.
He’s sure causing a bit of trouble.” We tried the exam again without success and so I excused the dog and off they went. Well, of course, the exhibitor reported the interaction to the Rep who came to me and said, “The exhibitor was really upset that you made a comment on the dog’s name.” I was informed the exhibitor thought it was insulting that I commented on the name of the dog. Now, forget the fact that I’d spent far more time with the dog than I would have had he behaved correctly, trying to get him beyond his fear period and trying to get the exhibitor to relax. The only focus was on the “negative” comment—which was said in jest. (Note to self: no good deed goes unpunished.) Any opportunity for learning was lost as a result because the exhibitor was so emotionally wrapped up in their dog’s behavior and the perceived disapproval of the dog’s name. The takeaway for me was that maybe I made too much of an effort to try to be helpful.
Unfortunately, experiences like this one are all too frequent. It often seems like no one is prepared to learn anymore. Many exhibitors are not able to receive the critique, accept the help, and learn from the moment. Most accomplished breeders, however, will enter the ring with more trepidation. They enter in the hopes that their dog will be good enough, that someone will approve of what they’ve done with this generation of their kennel. A more novice individual, on the other hand, enters thinking it’s a forgone conclusion that their dog will be seen favorably, with no sense that their dog might not be good enough.
Some exhibitors come seeking a more personal response to those teachable moments in the ring. There is a feeling that exhibitors are looking for a positive experience beyond the placement of their dog. They require a moment of joy, a feeding of their emotions to validate their own opinion of their animal. They want a “feel-good moment” where the judge is experiencing their dog with the same emotional response as they are having.
Here is where the situation changes. The experience is two very different things to the judge and to the person exhibiting. One is giving a thoughtful evaluation and the other is a stage mother with a predetermined result. When disapproving of the conclusion, said exhibitor turns to judge their own experience. They FEEL unpleasant. They FEEL like things didn’t go well and that the experience was negative and the fault lies with the judge. They were disappointed and didn’t have a good time at the dog show. The judge was not nice. I have heard exhibitors saying, “I wish that judge would smile more or look happier in the ring.” The exhibitors seem to think this is a stage production and the judge’s “character” must be one that is super-excited to have them enter their ring. A big smile and away we go. Unfortunately for them, judging is a serious exercise, and those of us who judge are generally deep in thought while we make choices, reviewing our knowledge of the breed before us. Putting on a show was never part of the drill! Of course, we expect a professional experience, but we are not going to a stand-up club or a matinee for the day. This is livestock evaluation, after all!
Recently, at our show cluster, we had a complaint from an exhibitor who hadn’t heard their armband being called. The next thing they knew, Winners Bitch was in the ring and “no one had called their number.” Well, we checked with the Steward who said that their number was called. The easiest resolution was for the club to return the entry fee because we wanted the exhibitor to come back next year. Never mind the reality that the exhibitor missed their opportunity because they were not paying attention and missed their class. The new mantra seems to be: “It wasn’t my fault.” Another frequent response is: “I don’t like the adjudication,” and therefore, “I’m going to trash this person on social media.” This is unjust, and I think more judges should wear that badge of honor a little more proudly.
Judges are often so talented and they shouldn’t discount their talent when they have accurately adjudicated someone’s exhibit to the point where the exhibitor has become so disgruntled that they feel the need to trash the judge publicly. If a judge spends the whole day appeasing people, then maybe that judge’s bar for grading stock is perhaps too pedestrian or maybe it’s not sophisticated enough to ruffle a feather here and there. We cannot please them all. Judges have to take a stand on these ill behaviors and mitigate the expectations of exhibitors. Everyone should have a positive experience, but that means you might have to deliver negative news in a positive manner to someone who is not willing to receive it. Good luck with that! It’s never easy to share that news. However, I have faith in the process. You will disappoint judges and judges can disappoint—we don’t always agree on artforms. This is an individual experience. Remember, there is more losing than winning in dog showing!
The loss of decorum in our sport has taken many forms. This is an expensive hobby and some have been able to turn the hobby into a profession. It is a hard way to make a living; either as a dog breeder or as a professional handler. I am sympathetic, for sure. I can’t imagine those challenges. When Jamie and I judge, we make arrangements with agents and handlers to refrain from showing to us a dog of our breeding that they are campaigning. This is our rule and request, even if the AKC guidelines are not as restrictive. While we no longer own the dogs, they’re still from our kennel and they represent our brand and our work. Nearly everyone at the dog show knows when handlers have dogs in their trucks from us, and it would appear awkward for them to be showing dogs to us. So, after a great deal of thought, we made the decision that those handlers could no longer exhibit any of their dogs to us. Most have handled our rule very well; after all, they are professionals.
Our intention, our passion, and our behaviors represent who we are in the sport. At a recent dinner, celebrating the best in our sport, I was shocked at the lack of respect, decorum, and rudeness of the audience members. We had come together in fellowship. We had come to learn and to celebrate each other’s success, yet the audience failed to behave. There were times when I was sure we were at a WWE wrestling match. The audience was loud, poorly behaved, and frankly, embarrassing. When a performer is providing an evening of entertainment, we should be quiet and listen. We should show respect for their talent. When your friend, co-worker, and fellow exhibitor receives an award or honor, you are to be quiet and listen to hear what they have to share. Perhaps you will learn from their experience. For me, the evening was a sign of the times. It gave me a moment to reflect on where we find ourselves—and I was disappointed. The lack of decorum that night required acknowledgement of the bad behavior and an opportunity to call it out in the hopes that it will change. We can be better. We must do better before all reverence is lost.
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