I gave up giving up

Well last night as I was cleaning up after Shelby's wow-mom-look-I-found-a-dead-thing-no-don't-take-it-please-fine-I'll-swallow-it-then!; I began really missing Penny and wondering how she was doing with the stuuud. Was she scared? Was she safe? Did she think I would ever come back for her?

Some humor aside for the moment (hey, don't throw fruit at me!), I began reminiscing... I thought I'd share an inspirational story with you this time.

March 2006, we found a flyer for a huge dog expo event that was being held in Harrisburg called Pawsabilities! We saw they were having a breed match and I had been dying to get Shelby out and show her. So we went and tried it. It was a very small, very informal thing. We had some fun, and went home with two ribbons. Although we didn't WIN the ribbons.

We got them by default.

She was the only dog in her breed.

That year I showed Shelby two more times; once in Ludwigs Corner in April and once in Lancaster in May. She got a few ribbons but it was the same story. The ribbons were won by default because she was the only dog in her class. No competition wins.

I started to become incedibly depressed - and discouraged about my career in dogs.

"I'll never win," I uttered. I was convinced my career was over before it ever really started. The people I saw in the ring - you love them but you can't help but hate them - who have a MAGNIFICANT dog that wins big it's first time out there, and wins most of the time it goes out - they discouraged me the most.

I gave up showing Shelby. I just gave up. The truth is, Shelby wasn't the first dog I ever tried to show. She was just maybe the 8th or so. Everyone of them (my parents dogs), I found out had qualities or personalities that made them unshowable. Shelby was just the first I tried in the ring.

And the first I ever got so discouraged with.

That summer I purchased a puppy that a breeder brought to me from North Carolina. She was a longhaired red brindle Dachshund - and I named her Penny.

I got my hopes up once again that Penny would be my first real show prospect. I would stack her everyday, and examine all her good features. One day in the fall, I was horrified as I stacked her, realizing something for the first time.

Her back legs were way longer than the front, and it threw her topline off horrible! No! If I was any at all discouraged before, this threw it over the top.

"I'm done," I said. "I'm done with Dachshunds. For good."

I let Penny and Shelby become "just the pets". No longer the dogs I was so proud of that I bragged to everyone about, but the shameful secrets I tried to keep. I dreaded everyday taking care of them, seeing them as my big failures. I wondered most days why I didn't just sell them, use the revenue from selling them, and blow it all shopping.

Those were the worst kind of days. The type you cannot make better, but you only feel they cannot get worse.

Although there was one thing in the back of my mind with Penny that I am surprised I had not thought of...

She began growing bigger and bigger and bigger. Finally, she was a very good sized Dachshund. As we delved into the late winter, Penny had changed. I had never ever realized it could have been a growth spurt.

So I got back in the game, right?

Nope.

I had been way too discouraged and let myself get way too hurt. I had given up and that was that. "Yeah so she looks better. We won't be good enough. There's just no way."

That March we again found the same flier for Pawsabilities. My mom had wanted to go because there was CGC testing; she wanted to test her little poodle mix (ahem sorry mom I mean "hybrid") and also wanted to go for the socialization reasons. I glanced at the words "Breed match". For once I let my mind wander.

"Well the breed match is SO incredibly small and SO informal, maybe I might try it..." was the thought in the back of my mind. I had no hope we'd actually win anything but wasn't anything worth a shot?

The night before the breed match I realized I did the same thing again. I let my hope get up a little. So I got down on my knees for the first time in a long time and asked something that a few minutes later, I thought was foolish. "God, I'm so discouraged with this. I'm so depressed with it. Please let us win something, so we may know we're good. Let me and my little partner, Penny, win something together. Please, it's just a really, really small show and it will be easy."

The next morning as we reached Harrisburg and I rushed in with Penny as my mom found a parking spot, my heart sank. The one thing my confidence in showing up to this breed match rested in was non exsistent. I realized it in that fearful moment.

This match was huge! And not so small and informal!

There were many, many other dogs. And many determined handlers grooming. My heart sank a little, and I was angry at myself for having any faith in suceeding at all. "Dammit!" I said to myself.

I wanted to cry right there and then, and run out of there, screaming.

But alas, I had already signed up via pre-entry, so I had to participate if I didn't want to waste my money. Fear dwelled in my heart every moment as me and my mother watched and waited.

Especially as we waited.

Penny loved the atmosphere, though. She wagged her tail at everyone and everything. She was confident, and not afraid, unlike Shelby. She looked up at me with big eyes as if to say "We do good, mommy?" I sighed. "We're going to be the laughingstock of this match," I said to her. The 9 month old pup titled her head a little, as if confused at my words. My mom was proud of me, her daughter showing again, and snapped a picture (the above picture) of Penny.

Meanwhile, a man from a newspaper rolled by. He said Penny was gorgeous, and he snapped pictures of her. I was ashamed at the thought of her appearing in any newspaper. Everyone commented me on how gorgeous she was. "They don't know the breed," was my thought.

Finally our judge called us into the ring. I did horrible. My handling was SO off. Penny smiled big for the judge as I put her on the table. "Relax, hon," the judge told me. "Your dog is beautiful. You really have something here."

As I walked out of the ring, a little weight lifted off my shoulders. "Maybe..." I said to myself. Meanwhile I was grabbed by a more experienced Boston breeder - Patti, as she explained everything to me I did wrong and tried to show me right ways to do it. It discouraged me a little. "Well my dog might be good but because of my handling, I'll never be able to do it."

"She might like some better bait. My dogs love American cheese," she said as she shoved sticky, yellow cheese into my hand. In just a moment then, I filed into the ring for best of group. Cheese in one hand, alert Dachshund that wanted the cheese in other hand. In the hound group, there was quite a lineup.

First the most calm and elegant beagle I ever saw. It was the only one of it's breed, like us.

Then the most confident and radiant Rodiesian Ridgeback. It won best of breed over other dogs of it's breed.

Then the most graceful and gorgeous whippet I ever do remember seeing. There were many whippets there that day.

"The whippet first, then the Rhodie, then the beagle, then I won't get anything," I said to myself.

As the judge came around when we stacked, I had never seen Penny more alert with this cheese! The judge walked up and down, and stopped, and looked at Penny, oddly. "Oh no, she's going to disqualify us." Truth be told, I had shown another dog besides Penny. I put ALL my hope in that dog. One peculiar look from the judge, one "may I see your dog gait again?", resulted in one disqualification and an ended show career.

Fear pulsed in me. Suddenly the words I was afraid to hear. "May I see your dog gait again?" I held back tears as me and Penny made our way back and forth across the ring again and came back. "Thank you," the judge said as we took our place.

"No disqualification, but she thinks my dog is bad," I said.

She went up and down the line up again. Whippet, Rhodie, Beagle, Penny. She gave us another weird look. She walked towards me. "This is the end," I thought. "I'll have the Dachshund first."

Silence.

"What?" I said. The judge grabbed my arm and moved me. In front of the beagle. In front of the rhodie. In front of the whippet. "Now once around." Tears dwelled in the corner of my eyes. A feeling I never felt before surged over me "WHAT!?!?" I thought. I had no idea what was going on. The four of us handlers went around the ring once more. It was all a whirlwind. Suddenly the whippet owner was shaking my hand and telling me Congratulations! "What happened?" I said to the judge. "You won!" she replied.

She told me my handling could be better, but she loved my dog.

I couldn't believe it. I never felt so overwhelmed in my life. "Good dog, Penny! Good dog good dog!" I said. She wagged her tail and jumped around as if to say "Give me the cheese!"

I breathed hard from the adrenaline rush. Not only that but Penny passed her CGC that day with flying colors. I was given hope back where I lacked hope before with my dogs. I decided not to give up. I was given a new love for the show ring. And a new love for the breed...

That April, Penny won a few things in the AKC ring, and later in the year she earned 75/100 of her UKC championship. For any aspect of my life, I have officially given up, giving up. For good. If you have a dream, you go get it. You make it happen. That simple. You never give up.

I am so proud of my 3 little dogs. I am proud of my Shelby, proud of my Kit, and especially proud of my Penny. I am even very proud of Sophie, my little show cat who won 6 ribbons at a show in Febuary, 2008! And I'm sure any offspring from Shelby or Penny this year, I will be equally proud to see them in action. And I can't wait to see how Penny and Kit do in Pawsabilities 2008!

I thank the Lord always for that win that day, and I thank Him for how I have been blessed. And who knows.

Someday, I might show Shelby again.

Someday.