dog shows Casey Kerries From the Inside Out | Dog Trainer School Ontario

dog shows Casey Kerries From the Inside Out

  It’s been four weeks since you finally beat your cross-town rival.  You check the mail for a week for that large, cardboard mailer holding the only tangible evidence of the great event.  This will be a photo you’ll scan and post on Facebook probably at least twice a month for the foreseeable future.  You finally got the pattern on the dog just right and your lucky suit came through again.  Just when you are truly annoyed at the delay, the picture comes.  Eagerly you open the mailer and prepare to relive a great moment in dog show history.  With one look, all that fades.  The beautiful purebred you left the house with that morning looks like your neighbor’s pound puppy. Somewhere between the ring and the photographer’s stand he lost three inches of leg and gained four inches of body length. His coat looks like he was groomed in the dark in about twenty minutes.  And then there’s you.  All that Hagen Daz you passed up and trips to the gym were for naught.  You look thirty pounds fatter and slightly out of focus. Not enough to make you unrecognizable, but enough to actually make your double chin look tripled.  The one thing on your body that is in focus is that stain, shouting from the front of your jacket, you acquired during a lunch ten minutes before ring-time. There is no do-over, no way to Photoshop this nightmare into some semblance of acceptability, and this is your young dog’s only win in competition this show season!

We’ve all been there. We’ll all be there again. You have little recourse except to return the photo with a note to the photographer. But of course without even this pathetic rendering, you have no visible reminder of a nice win.  You buy the picture and hope for better next time.  To be fair, not all dogs are photogenic.  Just like some people, the camera loves some dogs.  Our current dog special has few pictures that are less than flattering, but our Bedlington never took a good picture. In the world of dog show photography there are two categories: Professional and amateur.  There are gifted practitioners in both camps, but they never seem to be around when your dog has his big moment. What can the exhibitor do to increase the odds of getting a better win photo? And what about the amateurs happily snapping away from the second or third rows ringside? They are enough to make you cringe. Recently, the top dog in our breed was a victim of a well-meaning fan with a digital camera. This over zealous shutterbug posted a photo on Facebook of the dog and her handler at a specialty show in the Mid-West. The photo was taken from a profile view with the judge’s hands measuring the dog’s loin. The dog appears long-cast in the extreme and no matter if you love this dog or not, none of her virtues were visible.  Whether to leave a more favorable impression of this animal in the minds of judges trolling the social media or mere coincidence, another photo of the same dog was posted a day later. This time the photo was professionally taken in more than three-quarter aspect and little of the dog was actually shown. But it was a beautiful photo of a blue dog against a shadowy green background. With the photo identified you almost breathed a sigh of relief for the owner.

  Professional dog show photographers have a difficult job. Mind numbing, like shooting a high school graduation ceremony, and full of pressure, they must scurry ring to ring, slipping into the judging order to satisfy exhibitors and sometimes impatient judges. Dirt floor arenas are dimly lit and the lighting is often pinkish or yellowish wrecking havoc on the camera’s light meter. Nobody trains their dog to stand for a picture and most don’t win enough to get good at it.  Just when you get over caring that your rear end jiggles when you run full tilt around the ring you have to pose for a photo. You stand there sweating, trying to suck in your gut, lifting your head slightly and wishing you hadn’t worn that flora skirt. Why are you standing here again? Oh yeah, your dog just got a win. Some photographers with a modicum of care and professionalism will work with you, but only to a point. Sometimes they shout out orders before the shutter is depressed. “Front leg on my side back a little, rear leg on your side slightly forward, step back from the dog.†As the judge becomes annoyed, the dog refuses to cooperate and the hapless exhibitor seems to be having an out-of-body experience, the photographer takes the picture.  You just got that one in the mail.  I’m not convinced most dog show photographers even like dogs let alone working with dogs and people. I think some stumbled upon a niche market for their mediocre talents and are laughing all the way to the bank.

Each show-giving club chooses the photographers they want to use. Usually the one they used the year before. Exhibitors seldom complain to the show committee about the photographers so nobody is aware of which ones are good and which are not.  After you’ve been showing about five years you learn which photographers give you a good picture and which can never seem to. There are some very good photographers who take the time to work with each exhibitor and seem to know something about their craft and about dogs. But you never seem to see them enough. We all spend a lot of money going to dog class. Maybe we should start requesting instruction on stacking our dogs for a win shot.

  As bad as these professionals can be, worse are the legions of amateurs who think they are as good as the pros. While we seek out the professionals, hoping for the best, the amateurs are omnipresent. Armed with more technology than they can handle, they stalk us from ringside. Some of them are friends and family. In their attempts to document the specialty show they succeed in taking some of the most worthless photos of the dogs and handlers possible.  Amateurs have big hearts but have no technical know how. They carefully pick their spot outside the ring and earnestly click away taking enough shots to fill several 16gb cards. Most of us don’t mind being the subject of well taken pictures but nobody likes to see a shot of their dog’s head peeking out from behind the copious butt of the handler in front of you.  We all like to think our dogs are close to perfection and seeing a picture of our specialty winner with his rear leg touching his front leg as he waits in line for his individual exam shakes us to the core. The sad thing is these snapshot artists think they are doing a good job. We have all anxiously weeded through several hundred photos online, taken by a well-meaning club member, with no editing skills, to be sure our dog isn’t there too often or in some compromising pose.  Another annoyance,  the people’s faces in the photos are usually tagged but the name of the dogs are missing. People who did not attend the event ask the name of the dog over and over until somebody admits it’s theirs. Two years ago, I spent a few minutes laughing myself silly at a close up photo from our National of a poorly groomed dog and a handler with grotesquely large legs.  When my mother took a look and pointed out how I needed to clean my shoes next time. I quit laughing. How could the dog and I look so bad? 

Taking a cue from celebrities on the red carpet, the only way to avoid seeing an unflattering picture of yourself and your dog online is to pick a spot in the ring and assume a stiff position with a well rehearsed smile on your face. it helps if you stand in a corner as it cuts down on the angles available  from which to photograph you.  As long as you remain standing with the dog perfectly stacked you are reasonably assured of not looking bad in the inevitable photos your friends and competitors are sure to take.

  Anybody can sell photos taken from ringside. Seasoned exhibitors learn to deftly avoid these people. They run up to you as you leave the ring shouting that they have taken a wonderful picture of your dog. Since many time you didn’t get the purple and gold ribbon you become highly suspicious. As proof of their skill, they offer a look at the tiny screen on their camera of what might be you and your dog. You hopefully give them your email and when they forward the photo you can’t hit delete fast enough. There are however, exceptions. Someone barely able to speak English ran up to me after my German Pinscher and I finished showing one day in Scottsdale.  He excitedly shouted, “I have a good picture of your dog.†I thanked him, gave him my email and hurried away. Three days later I received the best picture of the dog I have ever had.  You never know.

Any psychologist will tell you intermittent reinforcement is the strongest kind.  We all get just enough decent photos of our dogs and ourselves to keep us hopeful we’ll get more. This makes nearly all of us a sucker for anybody at a show with a camera. 

And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.

John F. Kennedy, Inaugural address, January 20, 1961

  In January, 1961, I was six years old. My brother was not born, but would be born in July of that same year. We had, of course, a Kerry Blue Terrier named Bran. and we lived in a small house by what we refer to now as the old airport.  When President Elect, John Kennedy, spoke these words and ushered in Camelot, most of America was in what you might call a blissful innocence, and had not yet been rudely awakened to the tumultuousness that would be the sixties. Americans blindly trusted the media and government and the media was not intrusive in the lives of its celebrities and politicians. We moved later that year to the house my mother and I share today. Like many urban families, ours fled the city to take up residence in the suburbs. On a day in late November. a little more than two years later, I was playing baseball on the playground field of my elementary school when we were herded into the auditorium. Squinting from the far end of the gym at a black and white TV on an AV cart, I heard words I did not understand, but would remember for the rest of my life:  the President had been assassinated.

In 1961, the AKC was seventy seven years old. Women, although members of dog clubs across the country, were not allowed to serve as Delegates. HSUS was seven years old and PETA would not exist for another nineteen years. Since the early sixties, most dog clubs have struggled to remain viable. These all-volunteer organizations depend on the sweat of their members to put on dog shows, obedience and agility trials and more importantly, to spread the word that purebred dogs are great family pets. As the AKC is a club of clubs, it relies on the member clubs to finance their shared mission: Upholding the integrity of its Registry, promoting the sport of purebred dogs and breeding for type and function. Membership in any club is a privilege and it carries with it obligations and responsibilities. Dog clubs are especially demanding of time as well as mental and physical energy. Motivation to put on quality shows or trials must be self-sustaining. The AKC does not provide safety nets for failing clubs nor reward those that put on the better shows. Clubs succeed or fail on the strength of its membership. Retention of members is a concern to every club. What makes people stay involved in clubs and what causes them to drift away? The answer could lie in the five stages of group dynamics. These stages are nearly universal in any organization with members who must work together to advance a common goal. Any time in the life of a club when new projects are taken on, or a new Board is seated, these developmental stages begin again.

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  Forming.  This is an orientation period when members get to know each other and share expectations about the group. Members learn the purpose of the group as well as the rules to be followed. Trust and openness must be developed during this stage.  These feelings strengthen in later stages. Members are often confused during this stage because roles are not clear and there may not be a strong leader.

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  Storming. In this stage, a club is likely to see the highest  level of disagreement and conflict. Members often challenge group goals and struggle for power. Individuals often vie for the leadership position. This can be a positive experience for the club if members can become united through resolution. Members often voice concern and criticism in this phase. If members are not able to resolve the conflict, a club will often disband or continue but will remain ineffective and never advance to the other stages.

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  Norming. This stage is characterized by the recognition of  individual differences and shared expectations. In this stage, club members will begin to develop a feeling of group cohesion and identity.  Responsibilities are divided among members.

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  Performing. The club has matured and attains a feeling of cohesiveness. Individuals accept one another and conflict is resolved through group  discussion. Members make decisions through a rational  process, focused on goals, rather than emotional issues.

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  Adjourning. Not all groups experience this stage of development  because it is characterized by the disbandment of the group. Dog clubs strive to remain relatively permanent.  But this stage can occur at the end of a show or special project. In this stage, members may feel sadness that lingers. 
  

If a club is successful in working through these stages, the membership remains healthy. Problems arise when a club becomes stuck In the Forming or Storming stage and the development of factions result.  Even if a club is decades old, when club members don’t feel valued or heard, they drop out or refuse to participate on any meaningful level.

Even in the healthiest clubs, members constantly ask themselves, “what’s in it for meâ€. What does the average member get out of belonging to a dog club.  In the case of a local club many are temporarily satisfied with priority parking at the annual show, member appreciation dinner, free grooming and club badges or plaques for their dogs’ achievements.  But these are seldom enough in the long run. Ultimately, the motivation to belong to a dog club must come from within every member.  Club leadership must foster a culture where the club and its members see themselves as a necessary part of promoting purebred dog ownership. Leaders with energy who are creative and set high standards and goals are the most successful in retaining members.  When a club puts on a great show, large or small, morale grows and members feel important. Sometimes assigning tasks to each active member, even small ones, goes a long way. Soliciting feedback from exhibitors at the club show, and passing along the positive comments makes everybody feel good.

   In the days of Camelot, before PETA and HSUS, dog clubs were social organizations that put on a show once a year and existed for the pleasure of their members. Today, the purebred dog is under attack. Breeders are vilified and the AKC has a whole department, and paid lobbyists, to monitor and fight anti-dog legislation. Many communities have limit laws and breed bans. Dog clubs are more important than ever. They represent grass roots organizations of people who love and have dedicated their lives to dogs and dog sport.  People who see showing and trialing dogs is a positive family activity with benefits that are long lasting.

It is time we who have joined dog clubs quit asking what the club has done for us lately, and ask how we can do more now.

AKC Cluster shows began in the 1970s partially as a response to the gas crisis and partially in response to demands from the fancy. Shows had begun as one day affairs and people generally didn’t travel too far from home. As dog showing grew in popularity, kennel clubs realized there was growing support for two shows, one each day of the weekend. It was double the opportunity to finish a dog if there were two shows on the same weekend.  However, most of these two day events were held in two different locations.  As a child I have memories of our family showing in Lincoln on a Saturday then breaking down, loading everything into our car and driving to Omaha for the Sunday show.  Still, two shows were better than one. Twice the opportunity for points and group placements.

If two shows were good, four would be twice as good and the evolution of the cluster shows was complete. Now, if you have nothing to do in January of every year, you can go to Brooksville, Florida, and show in nine shows in ten days.  In August, in Topeka, Kansas, you can show in eight shows in ten days. These two clusters fill up and have great venues.  Enterprising all-breed clubs court specialty breed clubs and offer inducements if they will hold a specialty with the existing cluster. This can stretch out a cluster to five days for some breeds for a total of 10 shows.  This guarantees an influx of professional handlers and often quality dogs as they can charge clients more for a specialty weekend.  Sometimes these clusters benefit the rank and file exhibitor, sometimes not. It is not so easy to determine when the chief motivation to show a dog changed.  When patience to finish a dog was lost, and when finishing a dog in three years, instead of three months, was considered an indictment on the animal’s quality.

I am not one to say everything, or most things including dog shows, were better in the past. Many of the rule and procedural changes in the sport today have improved the show experience.  Travelling eight to ten hours for a two-day event at the height of summer seems too much effort for too little payoff.  Especially when the humidity rivals the air temperature and the shows are held in outdoor rings.  If somebody tries to tell you how much they love doing this you are probably speaking to a local politician or an outright liar.  In our area we have a weekend show. The Terry-All Kennel Club. These shows are held at a fairgrounds in a semi-rural area just outside Denver in Brighton, Colorado.  These shows are the worst on the Eastern Slope.  Since most of the exhibitors are locals, most show here and most swear every year, after the event, that they will not return.  Of course everybody returns the next year.  The grooming for this show is either in a dark, dirt floor arena, several blocks from the  show building, where the floor is rutted and dusty or in horse stalls.  Having never owned horses I am less enamored than some with the smell of manure and old straw. You can also groom outside your vehicle in an adjacent space.  You can buy these spaces for the weekend. Savy exhibitors allow extra time upon arrival to find their spaces and persuade the person already in them to move.  The weather is either blistering or freezing, both accompanied by a driving wind and often precipitation.  Before the thrill of victory is overtaken by the agony of yet another lost major, we are exhausted just getting through the logistics of the venue.  If this show is spurned, and one is patient, there is another show about 600 miles away. The venue is clean with indoor heated water for bathing dogs and reserved grooming. Parking is plentiful and free.  Usually too early for tornados, rain and wind are a passing annoyance as you head inside the climate controlled building to the spacious rings close to your setup. Forgetting nearly anything is no problem since there are a variety of vendors. And did I mention this is a cluster!  The Sunflower Cluster. A four day event in Wichita, Kansas.

  In more than ten years there has not been a major in any of the three breeds we own and have shown: Kerries, Bedlingtons and German PInschers. And in those ten years, only a few times have any points been available at the Terry-All Show. In Wichita however, there usually are points, if not majors, available in all three.  That is the beauty of clusters. That was the plan. That’s what we all wished for. More opportunities for points to finish dogs quickly. Four shows in good conditions bring out the exhibitors. There are enough clusters in most parts of the country to encourage handlers with their rafts of dogs to enter. Clients paying mileage are much more amenable to shelling out funds when there are four or five chances to win points. It all seems like such a better return on the dog show dollar. Locals with the same breeds can work together to build majors and points for each other. In a four or five day cluster two, maybe three, class dogs can finish. Clusters also provide opportunities for dog people to sit around and talk dogs. This is more pleasant because the conditions are usually better than horse stalls and dirt floors. At clusters there are amenities.  With two or more clubs splitting expenses, larger and better venues become possible. With many out-of-towners, and nothing much to do outside the show, talking to old and new friends takes on more importance. At two day shows most of the entries are locals and dog shows are sandwiched between home improvement projects and kids’ soccer games. People show their dogs then pack up and go home to salvage some part of the day.

I love cluster shows for the most part. Without them we would never have seen the Standard Poodle bitch, Brighton Minimoto,  the great Pointer bitch, Cookieland Seasyde Hollyberry, the number one dog all breeds 2011, Black Cocker Spaniel, Casablanca’s Thrilling Seduction, the Kerry Blue Terrier, Torum’s Scarf Michael, the best pure show dog our breed has every known and sometimes our own dog in the Best in Show lineup along side some of these greats. Clusters bring opportunities to learn about other breeds and your own from people you don’t see at local two day events. Clubs frequently offer seminars and judges’ education opportunities at cluster shows.

  With all the good about cluster shows, where’s the downside?  The downside stems from the very reason we are showing our dogs: honest competition. Pre-1970s, it could take two or three seasons to finish a dog. People had to show for the love of competition because finishing a dog could take some time. You and I, comparing our dogs and paying a third party to decide which was best. We’d square off against each other all over the state and maybe into a few others, several weekends a month, throughout the show season.  Sometimes other dogs showed against us and we both lost, or one of us won and sent the interloper packing!  Clusters changed all that.  With a fancy much more goal oriented than in the past, finishing dogs quickly, has become the most important measure of the animal’s quality. Wins and losses at clusters get lumped together.  “Look,†they crow, †Fluffy finished in just three weekends!†You glance down at Fluffy and wonder how this happened. You’ve never finished a dog in just three weekends.  The gushing owner never mentions it was three, five day clusters and all the wins came against the same group of dogs. Without a cluster, their pet would have competed seven weekends, possibly in a different division against different dogs.  A truer measure of Fluffy’s quality.

  Judging at clusters is as disappointing as anywhere. Sometimes it seems one judge follows the other and in traditionally low entry breeds judges appear confounded when confronted by a larger than average entry.  Judges with confidence, judging earlier in the cluster, set the tone for those who follow. A convenient  template for judges that either donâ€&#

dog shows Casey Kerries From the Inside Out