Continuing from Part Two of Eevee’s Show Dog Journey, here’s Part Three: Journey through “Mirkwood”. These were the dark times.
I’m realizing as I’m writing this that these stories are more about me than Eevee. She was a very good girl throughout this journey. I love Eevee very much and I am SO proud of her. Even if she doesn’t know it, she’s a wonderful example of her breed and she deserves recognition.
Next Stop, Louisville
After the Columbus shows in November 2019, we didn’t show again until March 2020. Winter is not the best for showing in Ohio and it’s good to take a break every now and then. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Those rose colored glasses get rosier and rosier as time passes.
The big show in March each year is in Louisville, Kentucky. COVID was beginning to pick up steam in the US. The usual Columbus crew went to the four days of shows. There were over 2000 show dogs entered that weekend. We drove down the Wednesday before to set up. I had not bathed Eevee in many weeks – even though I knew better – and her coat was not in the best condition for the show. Not off to a great start before we even got there.
Foreshadowing…
Anyway, I bathed her the day before and the water was COLD. It could not have been much warmer than 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Despite her double coat, Eevee was shivering by the end and my hands were aching and numb. When I got her up on the grooming to table to dry her, Lauren told me to make sure I dried her tail first. So I started on her tail per Lauren’s instructions, but it wasn’t 110% dry before I moved on to another section.
By March 2020, Eevee was old enough for the 12-18 month class. I hurried through her drying routine the day before because I knew I wouldn’t have much time to groom her the day of the dog show. I needed to do all of the trimming that day, because, per usual, we drew an 8:00AM ring time.
While I was trimming, I could feel someone watching me. We set up next to a professional handler and I could tell she was watching me. Watching me suffer through trimming Eevee’s feet with 7-inch straight shears. She wasn’t judging per se, but I could tell she was struggling with whether she should offer help. I’m fairly sure that Lauren told her to just let me be, even if it took forever for me to do feet.
I look back on that memory and laugh now because the 7-inch shears were so ridiculous. But they were all I had at the time, and sometimes you just have to make do with what you have.
What’s Dead Tail, Precious?
That night, Eevee was very restless and I barely slept. I chalked it up it being her first time in a hotel and thought she was stressed. When we got up before dawn the next day, I noticed her tail wagging low instead of high. I asked Lauren about it and we both concluded that she was fine. When we got to the show, we realized that all was NOT fine. She couldn’t lift her tail up at all, and only the end vertebrae could move.
And that was the day I learned about “dead tail”. I didn’t know it existed before then. Some people call it “limber tail” or “swimmer’s tail”. Basically, dead tail is a severe muscle spasm. When some dogs – typically retrievers – get very cold and wet, the muscles at the base of their tails seize up and they can’t move it properly. It’s very painful for them – like a crick in the neck is for us – and it takes a few days to go away on its own.
Yep, Eevee had dead tail. Shit.
The Golden Retriever breed standard states that tails should be “Carried with merry action, level or with some moderate upward curve; never curled over back nor between legs.” That last bit is important because dogs with dead tail physically cannot lift their tail like normal. According to the breed standard, they must be faulted.
Dog Shows Are Not Exempt from Murphy’s Law
Y’all, I was in full blown panic mode to take Eevee in the ring with dead tail. I was shaking and sweating, barely breathing, and my heartrate was a few beats per minute less than a true panic attack. You might be reading this as hyperbole. I assure you it’s not.
Remember, at this point in our show careers, every small thing was a huge deal in my head. Eevee getting dead tail at one of the biggest shows in the country was the worst thing to happen to us yet. Curse you and your law, Murphy!
To make matters even worse, the judging panel that weekend was all breeder judges. It’s prestigious to win under breeder judges in Goldens and it was one (and still is) of my deepest desires to win under a breeder judge. I wasn’t expecting to get Winners Bitch, but I hoped to win my class at least.
Anyway, we went in the ring to show to breeder judge Donna Ernst. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely get my hands on Eevee’s face to show her bite. Bless Donna’s heart, she could tell that I was horribly nervous. She told me to take a deep breath and take my time. So I did. The nerves didn’t go away completely, but her patience and reassurance certainly helped.
The Dog Show Must Go On
And bless Eevee’s poor heart, she was in a lot of pain and therefore drooling more than normal. She behaved in general, but her movement was off because she couldn’t lift her tail. We gave her some prednisone to help with the inflammation, but it didn’t really work.
The next day we showed to breeder judge number two: Patty Pace. I especially wanted to show to Patty because she is very well respected breeder judge that looks more at the dog than the handler.
Eevee’s tail still wasn’t back to normal, but she showed a bit better and we both slept better the second night. However, I was resigned to losing at that point. Patty placed us just out of the ribbons (5th). But, hey, it wasn’t last!
Cue the COVID Shutdown
Rumors flew all weekend about increasing numbers of COVID cases everywhere. If memory serves, the entire state of Kentucky only had 12 confirmed cases as of the Wednesday before the show. By Friday afternoon, the announcement came: The State of Kentucky was shutting down the show and kicking us out two days early. We lost our entry fees for Saturday and Sunday and lost our last night in the hotel. The only silver lining was that they allowed us to load up on Saturday morning instead of forcing us all out of the building after 5:00PM on a Friday.
Of course – because this is just how the universe works sometimes – Eevee’s tail was back to normal on Saturday morning. Go figure.
The COVID shutdown cancelled shows far and wide from March to July of 2020. The Dog World was covered in darkness. Professional handlers were losing revenue by the thousands each weekend they couldn’t show. Breeders were inundated with hundreds and hundreds of puppy requests with no puppies to sell. Clubs everywhere tried and failed to hold their shows.
Except for one.
The Canfield Dog Show
After four months with no dog shows anywhere, one cluster succeeded. The Canfield, Ohio shows actually happened. It came down to the minute as to whether the shows would be cancelled. Thank dog they weren’t. Lauren and I went, even though we knew it was going to be wild.
The Canfield shows are held outside at the county fairgrounds in July. Summers in Ohio are unpredictable. Often, they are wonderful! Especially if you grew up in the south and every day from the 4th of July to mid-September is approaching or over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. 85 degree temps feels great compared to that!
Historically, the Canfield shows were some of the largest in the country. But numbers dwindled over time and in recent years it was a one or two-point show for most breeds. However, with no dog shows for four months, Canfield drew 5-point majors in nearly every breed. There were over 50 class bitches entered in Goldens. Woof.
For the Love of Dog Shows
Day 1 of Canfield dawned bright and beautiful. It was sunny with a slight breeze. Perfect weather for a dog show. And it turns out that Eevee LOVES to show outside. She was so happy! A pretty famous handler also told me that she was pretty for no other reason than to be nice. It made my day. That handler does not hand out compliments unless she means it either. We placed second in our class. Not bad for not showing in four months!
Day 2 of Canfield was also nice weather and Eevee placed second again in a big 12-18 class. Day 3 of Canfield dawned with rain. Not just a little bit of rain, it was a full on downpour. Thank goodness we brought rain jackets…
Everyone Falls at Some Point
The Day 3 judge was none other than Doug Johnson, who judged the Sporting Group at Westminster several years ago. Doug was very pleasant and despite the rain things were going well. Until they weren’t.
To keep us in the rain for the minimum amount of time, he asked us all to do our down-and-back and go straight into the go around. At the end of the go around we could do a free stack. I followed his instructions and as I was coming in to do the free stack, it finally happened…
Yep, I fell. Ass in the air and everything. I hit a slick patch of grass, my feet flew out from under me, and I landed with a thump. Legs flying into the air, wearing a dress, right in front of the judge’s face. I always wear running shorts under that dress for that exact reason, and thank goodness I was wearing them that day! Mr. Johnson graciously helped me up and asked if I was ok. Not five minutes later, someone else fell in the same spot, so he knew it wasn’t just me.
The Pit of Despair – Dog Show Edition
Eevee ended up getting fourth in her class that day. I was so flustered from the fall that as I got in line to get my ribbon, I got in the second place spot accidentally. The same handler that complimented me two days before was the actual second place person. If looks could kill, I would be dead. We had to wear masks even though the show was outside. Clearly, she thought I did it on purpose, but I would never, ever, EVER try to take someone’s placement. Her expression softened as she saw my eyes grow wide and my hurry to get to the fourth place spot.
And that was the second time I cried at a dog show. I tried to hold it in, but the sheer embarrassment of falling and the horror at getting in the wrong place in line was too much. It might not sound like that big of deal to you, but in that moment the panic and anxiety came roaring back.
And I Had A Bad Day…
Canfield Day 4 was still rainy and awful. People were driving golf carts around and they made the most horrible noise every time someone backed up. For the first time, Eevee showed genuine stress at a show. It was partly my fault: the anxiety from the day before wasn’t totally gone. For whatever reason, my normally unflappable, bomb-proof dog was bothered by the high pitched golf cart noise.
I tried everything in my bag of tricks to snap her out of it, but nothing worked. Even Lauren was shocked at how stressed she was. Eevee’s stress started fueling my stress and before long we were just one big ball of cortisol. When it was her turn for the judge’s exam, someone started backing up their golf cart on the other side of the ring. She would not turn her head away from the sound for anything.
The judge that day – since it was not a pleasant experience I won’t name names – had no patience. I know he could see that I was struggling to show her bite, but instead of moving so he could see better, he said “I can’t see that.” He essentially forced me to wrench Eevee’s head around and I did not appreciate it. Fighting against her remarkable neck strength, I showed him her bite and we moved on with the exam. Her stress was palpable at this point. Needless to say, we did not get a ribbon that day.
Part 4 coming soon.