Seems to me that we can’t get away from the tired notion that much of the sport of showing dogs is somewhat political. The assumption that wins are premeditated and orchestrated long before entries are made is something I have never given much life. I honestly think this kind of assumption is just the disgruntled mantra of the sore loser. While I do not shy away from being political in life, when it comes to showing dogs I tend to avoid the political. Furthermore, when it comes to writing these articles, I try to keep them plain and simple, direct and to the point, and yet some people always end up ruffled about something.
The people who are offended or challenged by what I’ve written are challenged because they’re “reading into” something I’ve said from their own point of view, thinking about somewhere they don’t want to go—but know they really should. And when I’ve stirred up someone, they occasionally like to come after me. It’s fascinating. Their comments represent, I think, the conspiracy theories about showing dogs… their wins, and how and why something happened. The competition will literally make up a scenario to justify a loss. Well, I hate to break it to the critics, but the judge simply preferred the other dog.
This is the new generation of communication. Everyone today is an expert and every person has an outlet for sharing their opinion. This sophomoric approach to communicating is quite transparent to those of us who are “living the history” of what we speak. For some, it can be difficult to take suggestions and critiques from those judges with great knowledge and vast experience when you believe you have the same depth of knowledge. Who are we to judge them, some exhibitors think, and why do we get to have the last word or even the loudest voice? When clearer thoughts prevail, however, we know two things: We are not all created equal; and not everyone’s opinions are valid. In our sport, you have to have the goods to substantiate your place of authority. For me, just writing an article isn’t enough. I must produce the goods in the whelping box to validate my skills at teaching. What do they say, the proof is in the pudding…? Well, in our case, the proof came out of the whelping box!
Experience has taught me that the naysayers are simply “loud noise” along my path to the finish line. Many of my successful fellow breeders have become fueled by the criticism and have harnessed it as energy—to work harder and reach a higher ground. I know this is a source of strength for me now. I have been underestimated often, and that has generally empowered me to overachieve. We all need and require fuel; my suggestion is to find yours.
Since I started judging 25 years ago, I have received two anonymous letters. (I no longer read unsigned messages, as the most recent note was so ill informed—again, NOISE.) One letter was a commentary on a suit I was wearing for a televised show. They didn’t like it and thought I should have had better fashion sense. (I did get several compliments on the livestream feed, however. One even said it was “fly.” I took that as a win and moved on.) The unnamed writer did like my Group winner, however—another win.
The second letter was a long, well-thought-out five-page letter about not using owner handlers and picking professional handlers over owners. This is a tired subject, in my view, but I will give it some brief time here. Clearly, the form letter format had been sent to many a judge over the course of the writer’s disappointing years of showing.
Now, dear, gentle readers, you all know me well enough to know that my heart and soul is with the owner handler. I am an owner handler! Owner handlers are my people. Well, the author of the second letter was clearly not experienced with me as a judge. When I received the note, which said I am very well known for only putting up professional handlers, my thought was, well, that just simply is not true. I mean, I’ve bent over backwards for owner handlers. If it’s close between the professional and the owner handler, or the breeder/owner handler, the breeder/owner handler always comes out on top because I’ve been there, done that. I tend to look for and reward an owner-handled dog. I know the struggle.
I also firmly believe that the best professional handlers know when there is a good owner-handled dog in competition, and that they might be in trouble because I will give that dog every opportunity to shine. But we all have to recognize that the professional handler has a well-oiled “machine” that knows what it’s doing. And their dogs do come with the advantage of polish. Those dogs are top-notch, and they’re also well-conditioned and deserving in their own right. The professionals force us, the owner handlers, to work harder and be better. This is good for all of us: breeders, owners, and professionals.
I pay so little attention to the faces of the people who show to me. In fact, at a show earlier this year, an exhibitor whose dog went Winners had apparently shown to me twice before where I gave the same dog Reserve. I didn’t recognize the exhibitor to be the same person, since I was concentrating on the dogs, but the consistency of having awarded Reserve previously (to majors) and now winners on this day (for a major) is what it is all about for me as a judge—the consistency of opinion on the breed in front of me. The judge who is consistent in their interpretation of the breed nuances, and the predictability of their unchanged perspective, is what the sport should be about. The evaluation of breeding stock. This is a requirement of a quality judge; judging to their interpretations of the written Breed Standard with consistency and predictability each time. Not a random stream of consciousness with varying results.
As a judge, I am required to ensure that your time in my ring is not unpleasant, regardless of the outcome of the adjudication. Simply put, you should enjoy your time, even if you don’t win. Judging dogs is not the same thing as pleasing exhibitors. Exhibitors may not leave satisfied or even thrilled, but they should leave knowing they got a fair chance to compete. This is really all that I think we can control in our rings. As an exhibitor, you cannot manipulate the outcome in your favor when the judge isn’t buying what you are selling. It just won’t happen.
I believe in the process of judging dogs. I have done it a long time and believe that even the most challenged of judges tries to do a good job. I think all judges try hard, though some have a more difficult time than others. Some are a quick study and end up with more skills than the rest. It is like learning to paint. Some people can pick up the talent with ease while others really struggle to stay within the lines. The hope is that, overtime and with more experience and exposure, each judge will get to the high level of proficiency. Sadly, we learn on our own entrants—whether the exhibitors like it or not.
Some judges are stronger than others and are more opinionated. They are more confident and secure in their opinions. On many occasions, they will know more about a breed than the exhibitors do. These judges have a higher bar for quality, an established bar set from years of experience with the breed. Over time, the best judges grow to insist on quality and will feel more comfortable withholding ribbons, though this is never enjoyable and is often poorly received. As a judge, until you’ve ruffled a few feathers and taken a stand, I would suspect you might be too passive in your expectations for quality. You have to have a strong backbone as a judge. If you are judging weekend after weekend and not withholding, you might be too generous. In any case, with all of that experience, you certainly should have a pulse on the level of quality that is acceptable.
I would say that it is rare to not withhold for lack of merit, in one breed, over the course of four all-breed shows. At some point, you will be shown a dog that is lacking and will require an excusal. That is your job. As an example, I once judged a breed exhibit that was FAR too big, way over the limit set by the Standard and a DQ. It was measured out and DQ’d. At the end of the day, in the car while driving back to the hotel, another judge asked about what I’d done. This judge was judging the breed the very next day—yet did nothing. It is our job as judges to monitor every exhibit’s quality to conform to the Breed Standard.
Dogs must earn their wins, regardless of who is on the end of the lead. As breeders, owners, and handlers, we must all experience losing. We can learn valuable lessons through our losses. They are important. As an exhibitor, I would be more disappointed to not have the losses; otherwise, how would I experience the profound joy of winning? We must experience it all to discover our own path to victory.
When an exhibitor brings a dog into my ring, they are getting an independent opinion. Though I do make my own mistakes, I form my own path. I have lived by the phrase: “Do not follow the road where it leads, go instead and blaze a trail.” It is funny how these words from a childhood poster have guided me for a lifetime. Politics has nothing to do with it.
