DahliaIntro

The wiz and whirl of the dog show totally surrounded me and engulfed my senses on that December, cold-for-Miami day; yes dogs of all sizes and shapes attached to leashes held by people of all sizes and shapes seem to meld into a Monet-like canvas. Not a flat canvas, but one of those panorama-3D renderings that seem to go round and round until they reach the place the photographer started shooting at.

I have always marveled at Monet’s ability to capture life with those unreal looking strokes of paint, just as I have marveled at those round and round photos that create a life-like 360 degree sight, yet are as flat as the stroked out paint in the Monet’s that seem to come to life as you step back away with the individual strokes creating a life-like visual affect!

Smack dab in the middle of the cavernous building, with show rings to my left, my right, in front as well as behind, where I too stood holding a dog, a black Labrador to be more precise, held by an equally black leash, I glanced around and wondered how many here appreciated what it has taken to get to this point in time and essence with this particular dog?

Hello, this is Dahlia, I think to myself. In case anyone asks, however with the hustle and bustle of the demanding day’s activities, I have somehow managed to partially conceal Dahlia’s greatly anticipated debut into primetime. In the world of dog shows where advertising and promotions go hand and hand with dog training and picking up poop, Dahlia’s eventual entry into the ring was about to happen with no fanfare or media hype what’s so ever. Strange occurrence for one of our dogs, not the going into the ring part, but the fact that there was no build up, no advanced warning, no trailer of information, no nothing. Yes, a strange occurrence indeed, for as the master of ceremonies for all the dogs that I represent, where each dog’s slightest accomplishments are highlighted and usually make front page news at our website, not many that had gathered here, not even those from our Labrador community niche, were that aware that one of Cori’s puppies was here.

Yes this is one of the surviving puppies from Cori’s litter. Dahlia has a sister and her name is Tori and she too is black. Dahlia and Tori are now 8 months old. Yes, it has been 8 months since that dreary and fateful day, April 4^th 2006 that Cori was due for delivery. 60 days of waiting after breeding her to one of the top producing males in the country, having had the semen shipped from far away California, after having Cori go through progesterone testing to assure that the semen would get here at the precise time so as to not miss that window of fertile opportunity. All the ducks had been counted and lined up for the parade, the I’s had been dotted and the T’s crossed, of course so were the fingers crossed for a dose of good measure.

“Sandy” someone yells at me and brings me back to the now reality and to the task at hand, as I look around and realize that it is my time to walk into the ring with the little black bundle. The ring steward had called several times and the Judge seemed a bit irritated that I was holding up the order of the universe by not walking in the prescribed chop chop fashion accustomed by these heavenly anointed beings.

“Let’s go sweetie” I coax Dahlia into the ring, her first encounter at a dog show, her first time out period! She willingly responds and follows into the ring the only Mommy she has ever known, as Cori, her biological mom passed away that bleak, dreadful day back in April and so did 5 of her tiny siblings.

It still seems so unreal and so far, far away that something as natural, routine and ordinary as the whelping of a litter could go so wrong and carry with it so many consequential events. How could a dog that was as happy as a lark at 9 AM wagging her tail and following me into the van and then out into the Vet’s office be gone at 11 AM?

The Judge for this given day welcomes the lady in front of me with a gorgeous chocolate puppy and tells us to move slowly around the ring with the two puppies. It is then that I realize that there are only the two of us in the ring. My mind is 8 months away to the call that I received from the Vet’s receptionist.

“Can you hold on a minute, the Vet wants to talk to you?” she rattles off as I waited what seemed an eternity for the Vet to come to the phone.

“We lost the mother and 4 of the puppies, there are 3 alive but one of them might not make it. Her heart stopped once and we got her back, but with the ruptured Uterus and so much blood loss, her heart gave out a second time and I worked on her for 10 minutes straight and she expired” the Vet monotones in surgical precision.

“Sandy” someone outside the rings call to me. “Move up, the Judge wants to examine your dog” once again I hear the familiar voice from somewhere nearby. My mind clears a bit and I realize that my daughter Jessie is prompting me to get my handler’s act together.

On seemingly autopilot, I move to the prescribed locale and stand my dog as the Judge goes over it from head to tail. Dahlia doesn’t know too many people as she has been under tarps since she was born. Under tarps being that her and her sister were totally hand-raised from day one, no make that from minute one!

Hand raising means hand feeding with colostrums from goat’s milk intended for the goat’s new born, then special formula mixed with more goat’s milk, bottom wiping for the poop to come out and vagina stimulating for urination every two hours for the first 4 days, then every 4 hours until they are 2 weeks old and as the song says, “And the beat goes on”.

“Dad”, Jessie’s voice seems to be the only noise I hear above all the cacophony of voices, people’s and dog's, rattling of crates in the distance, whirling of fans up above and the beat goes on…………………. “Dad!” the voice reiterates once again, this time with annoyance that only the gentler sex can administer, “You need to wake up Dad!”

I looked down at Dahlia and notice for the first time that she is totally transfixed at her “Mommy” and is unaware of where she is and what all the hoopla occurring around her is about, evidently by the chastising sound of Jessie’s voice, neither do I!

The judge had us move around together and he pointed to the smiling lady and the chocolate puppy as being number one and to me and my lovely Dahlia as number two. Dahlia oblivious to the last place award, all she cared about was pleasing her surrogate Mommy. To her, red was as good as blue and to me, her being here was a miracle indeed!

“These are really two very nice puppies and they should both do rather well in the future” were the Judge’s parting words as each of us were handed the appropriately colored ribbon and then each of us walked out of the ring. The judge needed not say a word, for I knew that my Dahlia was all that she was bred to be, a "mission accomplished" in the big picture of the Betterment of the Breed, the motto/goal of the Partners Program.

“Dad, you were really out of it in there, what’s the matter with you!” Jessie seemed to briskly state rather than ask. Knowing full well that she was right, there was no response from me and as that commercial with the guy getting slapped upside the head would say, "Thanks, I needed that!"

I led Dahlia back to her crate nearby at ringside and gently patted her butt into the crate. She turned around in the crate and lovingly looked at me and it was at that precise moment that I let the past go by and from that moment on only the future would be of any consequence for her and me.

The next day, Dahlia and I were pointed at for first place by the gracious lady Judge in the ring and she too, like the Judge of yesterday proclaimed what two excellent puppies these two were and how she had a hard time deciding between the two. Yes, the past was past and the future was before us, as two respected Judges had acknowledged the conformational qualities of yet another one of our puppies and the future is indeed bright for this little beacon of 8 month's ago.

Watch for Chambrays Show Me The Money, come to life in the real life panorama of the 2007 spring shows, my darling Dahlia a true living piece of artwork that not even the now famous painter of long ago could have adequately captured on canvas! Yet, few at that dog show knew of how many arduous brush strokes it had taken to complete this picture! Stay tuned for more artistic renderings at a dog show near you.

Editors Note: I have received dozens of emails about this story and about Dahlia and Tori. Thank you to all that have expressed their well wishes for both of them and for me.

Hi Sandy,

I just read the article about Chambrays Show Me The Money -- what a touching and beautiful piece!!

You know me well enough to realize that I am writing this to you with misty eyes and a very large lump in my throat. I know how much this puppy means to you.

I saw what the loss of Cori did to you -- how it broke your heart. She was a wonderful girl who loved you beyond anything else -- and the love was (obviously) mutual.

Her daughter is following in those loving footsteps and I am sure will make you proud. I look forward to seeing her in the ring and cheering her success -- but in my mind, she already is a great success story.

In your article, you compare her to a work of art -- I like to also think of her as a work of LOVE.

Maki

I had the biggest lump in my throat as I read your piece about Dahlia. What a master you are to capture a tempest in a teapot, for those that know you assuredly appreciate what you have held in with this saga.