[ SHOWGSD-L ] Re: German Shepherds
- From: WLFHRTGSD@xxxxxxx
- To: MarcatoGSD@xxxxxxx, Gsdhilo@xxxxxxx, Showgsd-l@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 7 Nov 2005 16:37:03 EST
In a message dated 11/7/05 1:12:18 PM, marcatogsd@xxxxxxx writes:
<< The more I think, the more I wonder if I'm doing the right thing, giving
up on conformation. I'll be the first to admit that the whole reason I wanted
to show in the first place, was for ME, to have fun. I don't like using
handlers, mostly because it means I just stand outside the ring and double, and
I
find no joy in it.
Win or lose, I've never cared. I just liked being in the ring with my dog.
The disappoinments have been all too much recently...ears not standing,
testicles not dropping, missing teeth, and, the worst of all, the death of Zan.
I went to my mum's house to pick up some laundry and a trash can, and, even
though I said "leave them alone" my little brother went outside and opened the
car door, and Zan got out. Somebody also left the backyard gate open, and his
dog got out.
It was 7 at night, it was dark, and I looked as hard as I could, and I just
couldn't see him. To be truthful, much as everybody says it's not Austin's
fault, I believe it is, because if he had listened in the first place, Zan
wouldn't have gotten loose, and likely, he would still be here.
I very much love to show, my mother has even offered to buy me a new show dog
when I was ready, but really, she just can't afford to, and I can't afford to
take an animal with a ton of show potential, and only show it once or twice a
month (which is what I was going to do with Zander, and the breeders were
fine with that, as long as he was finished). I don't like to special my
animals,
because being in the top standings in the working lists is more important to
me than the conformation standings.
When Zander had finished, my plans were to start herding with him, and do
agility. Can't do that now. I spent every single last penny I had on him, and
I
invested every single bit of love I could in him. He lived in a kennel for
two years, but I wanted to end that for him, and I wanted a show dog. So I
bought him.
I had him for only four weeks. He adored car rides, he loved to sleep on my
bed (or rather, on me), he'd do anything for a hot dog, and really, he would
have done anything for me.
I've been considering trying a co-ownership with somebody local, but the
thought of trying and failing again has made me physically ill, even though I
want
to show so badly sometimes, I swear I actually physically itch.
I wasn't born into a show family, it wasn't until I was 18 and too old for
juniors that I realized this was something I wanted to do, so I tried to put my
foot in the door. I think my foot has been broken several times over, said
door has been slammed on it so many times, but I keep it there. I'm not sure
if
it's because I'm an idiot, or because this is what I'm supposed to do, but
it's still there, bruised, and broken, much like my heart right now.
Part of me feels like I'd be betraying my Zan, to get another show dog, when
he was supposed to be the one for me, and part of me feels I'm betraying
myself if I don't. When I first met that dog, I just knew I was for him, and
he
was for me, and I think that he knew it too. Joel pushed Cheryl and Jim and
James to let me have him, and I got him. And Joel drove an hour to see me when
I
called to tell him of Zander's death.
Many of you have seemed to be able to find some meaning in Zan's death, while
I have not. I feel guilt, bitterness, I find fault with the one who let him
out, I certainly find no Solace in God, since that is an ideaology I gave up
when I was 11, and I find even less comfort in those who have told me "He was
just a dog."
Zander was more than "just a dog" to me. For somebody to say that to me, is
like me telling them their child isn't special, just because it is another
child. Strauss is my heart dog, but Zander is the dog that allowed me to open
it, and, though I ended up poor as dirt, and had to scrape to pay my bills
(which I have done), I didn't care. I was happy. He was happy.
I am very much drained from this whole thing, and I wonder why I still itch
so badly to show, it feels like I've got fleas. I feel compelled to leave it
alone, even though I seem to be surrounded by backscratchers and the like. So
tell me, my Zan, what do I do?
- Jackie
>>
Dear Jackie, we've not met yet but oh boy do I feel your pain. I am so sorry
for the losses and trials you've suffered. I don't know how long you've been
playing the dog show game, but yeah, you get your foot run over, smashed and
bruised not to mention your heart being broken at the loss of any dog,
especially a sudden, violent, could have been prevented death.
The one thing that came through loud and clear in your message was that you
love this and do it for fun. I understand your misgivings about continuing.
The failure to find comfort that Zander's death meant something.
I lost a wonderful dog on March 20, 2001. He was on the road to finishing.
All but one of his points came AFTER he was diagnosed at age 3 with severe
epilepsy. I tried to retire him, but the stress of NOT showing made him worse.
Against all conventional wisdom, we starting showing again. Epilepsy took him
that morning from me -- he went into a grand mal major seizure and choked on
his food. He was still breathing when I put him in the van and rushed to the
ER. I called the hospital on the way over and they had a gurney waiting. But
when they helped get him out of the car, deep down I knew he was gone. I
started screaming even before the vet was able to get the words "I'm sorry" out
of
his mouth. I called his breeder and hysterically screamed that I'd killed
her dog. I refused to leave him, my beautiful baby. I'd stuck my hand down
his
throat at home in an unsuccessful attempt to clear his airway. As he was
unconscious, his jaws were chomping from the seizure and he bit down with full
bite strength.
My husband and the ER vet told me I had to go to the hospital and get my hand
cleaned up. I refused, I couldn't let my Boo go....I only remember screaming
and screaming and screaming. The vet attempted to clean up my hand to stop
the bleeding until I could get to the human hospital. He could have the whole
darn hand if it saved his life.
To this day I do not know how bad the bite was -- but it must have been
pretty severe, I don't think I waited in the ER long before being taken to a
room.
I remember being told they'd give me a shot to dull the pain while they
cleaned up my hand. I expected a local, but it was a heavy duty pain shot and
I
don't remember much after that, I was heavily sedated. (Probably to shut me
up.)
The breeder from whom I bought the dog was by now my best friend, as she had
really introduced me to conformation. My boy's sister had just given birth to
a litter on January 6th, about 10 weeks before I lost my dog. Two "pick"
males were left. She insisted that we come visit the next day. I kept saying
no. Never again.
I'd been there when they were whelped, all beautiful, but I'd never looked
with a buyers eye since I was happy with what I had and couldn't afford to
start
with another show dog just yet.
I tried to ignore the puppies. I pushed the one that most looked like my Boo
away. I tried to ignore the sweet little boy who tried to kiss me and crawl
into my lap. How could I even THINK of another puppy the day after losing my
dog? I couldn't betray him! But that sweet little puppy that kept trying to
kiss me had his OWN ideas -- when I refused to acknowledge him, he sucked up
to my husband. In the few days following, I called all my friends, and posted
to the list. The private responses and phone calls kept me functioning. It
was some time before I went to another dog show. James WAS my handler -- as
soon as we looked at eachother I burst into tears and he held me and Cheryl did
too. We ALL cried.
By that time, the sweet, manipulative puppy was in residence. It took a long
time to stop feeling like I was betraying Boo. But I had his nephew, Jovan.
I now feel that in getting Jovan, I was truly honoring Boo - in the end, I
could not give up the sport that I lived for. Personal health problems kept me
from showing as much as I wanted. There was just no money.
But in the years I've been in dogs, I've learned that no matter how bad your
heart is shredded, there is always just one little area that is left open to
love another dog. All my support came from the show world and some family
members. I didn't waste my breath on anyone who would have said "just a dog."
When we lost our first dog, just 18 months before that, one of my husband's
co-workers made the mistake of telling HIM that -- and he punched them. I
don't
advocate hitting anyone insensitive enough to make that kind of remark.
I know that condolences are supposed to private, but I beg the admins
forgiveness here, as well as that of the slit. There is so much pain in
Jackie's
post I feel justified in responding publicly. We all can understand her pain.
Jackie I can't tell you what to do -- you must follow your heart. But if you
take a look at your post, perhaps you will see where your heart truly is,
despite the shock, pain, and feeling that this was your brother's fault. I
lost
my first dog at age 8 when he ran out of the house during MY little brother's
birthday party and I sure did blame him for a long time. I didn't grow up in
a show family either.
My deepest sympathies.
Kelly Busse
Wolfheart German Shepherds
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