Roscoe was gone and Otis was without canine companionship. He was beginning to show his age. I've heard that sometime getting a new puppy can revive the spirits of an older dog. It was worth a try, wasn't it?
Once again it was time to decide on what breed to get. I really wanted to get back into showing. I wanted another sporting breed. I wanted something kind of different, unusual. It had to be AKC registered, as I was totally unfamiliar with the UKC or any other dog registries. I thought of Mikki with her whiskery terrier face. That look always appealed to me. Yet I didn't want something that would need constant grooming either.
As I flipped through my dog breeds book I paused first on the Bracco Italiano. It is an Italian pointing dog. Who would've thought? It looked kind of like a spotted bloodhound with a docked tail. The book said they were an ancient breed and very rare. I really liked the looks and description but realized they were not AKC registrable. Maybe one day I would get one.
The next dog I looked at was a dog called a Barbet. It looks similar to an untrimmed poodle. I knew poodles were hunting dogs at one time, and the way their hair is cut was to make it easier to swim yet protect their joints and vital organs when retrieving in icy waters. But I kept going because they are not common in the US either and my husband would never consent to having something that looked like a poodle. Also it was not an AKC breed.
Then I saw a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon. They seemed to meet my requirements. They were good family dogs, they weren't very common, they had a very cute whiskery face, and grooming requirements were as simple as a weekly brushing. They were supposed to be an all around hunting dog, equally adept at hunting upland game and retrieving ducks over water. That would be the next dog for us.
I bought the latest issue of Dog World magazine and checked the back pages for ads. (This was still before the internet really took off and long before we owned our first computer.) I found a breeder in Michigan and began a telephone correspondence.
It might be interesting to note at this point that all these decisions were made by myself, without any input by or knowledge of my husband. Now to break the news to him.
I convinced him that Otis needed a dog companion and stressed the versatility of the Wirehaired Pointing Griffon. Somehow he believed all my lines. Or is it just that he loves me so much he'll go along with my schemes to keep me happy? (Roll eyes here.)
We picked up our little bundle of joy at LAX, the same terminal where we had picked up Victor, the Karakul ram. We had him home for just a few days when he started acting depressed and had mucousy diarrhea. My heart sank. I had just named him Worf, after the Star Trek character.
The vet confirmed my worst fears: it was parvo. The little guy didn't make it. I called the breeder to relay the news. Even though he had given the pups their first shots it was not enough yet to protect them. He was dealing with similar problems with the puppies he still had at home. He assured me a replacement puppy would be shipped with his next litter, due in the next several months.
In the meantime I decided to get another puppy, this time from a breeder in Oregon. Duke was a few weeks older and had an additional set of shots, but I still watched him carefully for signs of parvo. He was okay.
Duke
True to his word, the Michigan breeder sent another puppy many months later. I was paranoid with fear that this puppy would come down with parvo too, but my fears were eased. He was totally healthy. We named him Elmo.Three puppies? Elmo, Carli, Duke
My reasoning for getting two Griffons was simple. There were not very many around and I needed at least one other to compete against in the conformation ring in order to earn at least a minor point. This way I would bring my own competition with me and guarantee that one of the dogs would get a point. The hard part would be to get the required major points. I would have to travel to areas where there were usually a few more Griffons shown in order to try for the coveted majors.
You are probably wondering how I could show two dogs at once. It was easy. My friend Vicki was breeding and showing Mastiffs. We'd travel to shows together, share hotel rooms, and help each other out in the ring as needed.
Before Elmo was old enough to show we took Duke and one of her mastiffs to a show near Vallejo. We had left the dogs in the hotel room while we went to get a quick bite in the downstairs restaurant. We felt safe doing this because our dogs were house dogs after all and used to being inside. We fully expected them to fall asleep while we were gone.
Duke
After our dinner we were casually strolling back to our room at the end of the hall when we heard a big CRASH! We stopped and looked at each other. Was that from our room? BANG! Our stroll turned into a dead run.
We hurriedly opened the door, fully expecting to encounter a total disaster. It wasn't too bad, I guess, but it was bad enough. The dogs had obviously had quite the party while we were gone. The bedspread was on the floor. Vicki's make-up case was no longer in the bathroom, but now it's contents were spread all over the bedroom floor. The plastic wastebasket had chew marks. The floor to ceiling curtains were slightly askew. Worst of all was the large pile of poop in the middle of the floor.
Upon seeing the last I turned to Vicki and said, "That didn't come out of my dog." She had no choice but to agree. We cleaned up as best we could and discovered it really wasn't as bad as it had first appeared. There was of course the wastebasket that suffered the worst damage. After all that the only other damage we could find was a tiny one inch rip on the bed spread and a smaller tear in the curtains.
We carefully arranged the curtains so the rip was not visible, but we knew we'd have to confess to the other damage. The next morning before we checked out we called the front desk and told them about the damage. They said they would have to send someone up to inspect the room and then they could tell us how much the extra charges would be.
We waited as long as we could but ring time was fast approaching. We called down to the front desk one more time. They said we could leave and they would simply add the charge to my credit card. We agreed to that and took off for the show grounds.
We swore to each other that our husbands must never find out. As it turned out, the extra charge was only about $30. Whew! That was probably one of the funniest adventures we ever had.
Elmo, left; Duke, right
Eventually the time came when both Elmo and Duke had earned all the minor points they could. It was a waste of time and money to keep going to shows where they couldn't earn a major. At one show in the Los Angeles area I was approached by a couple asking if I had any Griffons available for sale. It was then that I decided to let Duke go. He had been getting a little too "friendly" with my little daughter at home lately and the timing seemed right. The people I sold him to wrote me a note with some pictures a few weeks later. They were thrilled with him and their German Shorthaired Pointer had the companion dog she'd been lacking. And yes, they had Duke neutered.
I found a professional handler to show Elmo for a while. I was hoping he could do what I could not: finish Elmo's championship. He did okay with Elmo, and given enough time and money probably would have finished him, but I was definitely running out of the latter. It was getting a little too expensive and we did miss him at home. So much for my dreams of the Westminster Kennel Club Show at the Madison Square Garden in February.
Elmo with handler, going away
...not done yet!
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