"I do love the place," Shelley countered, snapping the lead on Misha, her impish Siberian Husky. "You can't beat it for conformation. They have all the parking you could want and the grooming tent is right by the rings. They have the mounted sheriff's patrol to answer any questions. They have huge flat grassy rings with loads of space between them so there's no distractions. And that's exactly why," Shelley concluded," I won't show there for obedience."
"Huh," her friend queried somewhat confused. "Outside," Shelley continued. "All the obedience classes are outside." "I still don't understand," the other lady persisted. "I'm not surprised you don't," Shelley smiled leaning over to pat the reliable Golden Retriever's head.
Shelley explained. "I never show in obedience outside. The reason is easy to see. Look at Misha," she added pointing to the innocent looking Siberian in heel position by her side. "Just look at those mischievous blue eyes. If he's off lead and sees all those wide open spaces I just don't know what he'd do!" But Shelley was to find out in 3 weeks time as her friend convinced her to enter Misha in Utility "A" .
"Now don't you worry", Shelley's friend assured her as they parked the car. The two women unloaded their dogs and strolled across the spacious showgrounds. "I'm sure Misha will perform just as he does in class," her friend added. " My Utility "B" class is later this afternoon and I want to do some shopping. Good luck to you and Misha," she called out cheerily.
Shelley paused by the conformation rings while she consulted the map of the show complex on the judging schedule. The obedience rings were clear on the opposite side of the grounds.
Hurriedly she walked past the Whippet and Borzoi rings. Much later she passed terriers and toy breeds. In the distance she saw Irish Setters and German Shepherds flashing a pretty picture as they moved out in the bright morning sun. Still the obedience rings were not in sight.
Pressing on she crossed the next tree line hoping to see the telltale high and bar jumps only to discover Dalmatians and Dobermans instead. She finally located the obedience rings by a row of vendors on the other side of the Boxer ring.
Whew, Shelley gasped as she picked up her armband. We got here just in time. Quickly she practiced a heeling routine just as the steward motioned them into the ring.
Shelley felt apprehensive. Normally she liked to spend fifteen minutes to settle and focus her dog. She unclipped her lead and held Misha tightly as the judge measured him for jump heights. She released Misha and ordered him into position anticipating the first exercise to begin.
"Are you ready," the judge asked. With a raspy voice she meekly croaked, "Ready." The heeling pattern began. Shelley felt better once they started moving around. She increased her pace and noticed that improved Misha's attention. He trotted to keep up with her. He stopped sharply as she signalled him to stay and immediately dropped, sat and came to her on the subsequent commands.
So that's the trick with him, she thought to herself pleased that she had uncovered his secret. Just keep up the pace without giving him any opportunity to look around and maybe we'll get through this.
Barely taking a moment to rub her palms over the metal and leather dumbbells she hurriedly sent Misha to the center of the ring and smiled at him as he retrieved each correct article.
Clapping her hands so that Misha would follow, she ran to the center of the ring, stood for a moment and whirled around in place to send her Siberian for the glove deposited by the steward in the corner. Quickly taking it from Misha, Shelley practically threw the glove across the field to the steward and ran to the spot to execute the moving stand.
Hurray, she thought to herself and smiled as she realized that the jumping was all that remained. "Come on Mishe", she excitedly urged her Siberian and ran back to the other end of the ring. She snapped her fingers by her left side for Misha to sit and looked up as a shadow passed between them and the sun.
Taking a break and sitting his horse as tall and confident as the Marlboro man, was a member of the mounted sheriffs patrol. Shelleys jaw dropped open. "The horses," she said out loud dumbly to no one in particular. "I forgot all about the horses."
"Are you ready," the judge asked. " Yes," Shelley replied mechanically. "I mean no," she screamed. Shelley looked down and watched Misha's Siberian head turn as he gazed around the ring. She cringed as she saw him lock on the target as the horse pawed the ground and stamped.
"Send your dog," the judge impatiently ordered. Misha lowered his head turning his ears sideways. Shelley tried to speak but only felt overcome by a sense of impending doom. She squeaked, "Misha go out." Misha went.
He bolted down the center line of the ring, flew over the perimeter and froze in position under the startled nose of the sheriff's mount. The officer chuckled. He calmly watched well aware that his seasoned equine partner could manage this insubordinate canine.
Like a four legged pogo stick, Misha leaped up and down, up and down, yapping excitedly as he circled his prey. The horse kicked at Misha as if he were a pesky fly.
"Control your dog, control your dog," sternly ordered the judge. "Control my dog?," Shelley repeated chasing after a white-tipped tail. "I can't even see my dog." She vaulted over the ring to follow the cries of "loose dog" across the show grounds.
She raced through the vendors tent almost tripping on an assortment of spilled chewies. "He went that-a-way," glared the unhappy merchant, motioning off into the distance. Shelley continued her quest. "Loose dog, loose dog", she heard by the Great Danes. Shelley frantically dashed to that direction. "Try by the Labs," fumed a lady waving a topless ice cream cone. Shelley sprinted across to the next field.
Past the Airedale's and Affenpinschers, past the Shelties and Schipperkes, Shelley trailed her runaway dog. She came panting to a halt back at the entrance to the show grounds. "Have you seen a Siberian Husky run by here?", she anxiously inquired of a lady with a Rhodesian Ridgeback. "Why yes", the lady laughed, pointing to the next ring. "He's right over there!"
The assembly of people around the ring burst out in peals of laughter. They clapped in encouragement. Wondering what was the cause of the commotion Shelley politely threaded her way through. and groaned as she witnessed the spectacle that incited the crowd's hilarity.
Gaiting behind a long line of elegant Afghan Hounds was her black-and-white prick eared dog strutting his stuff for Best of Breed.
"Misha!," a mortified Shelley cried out as her dog circled by. Without heed, the Siberian Husky glided past her. "Misha, get over her now,"! Shelley beseeched. Her dog only chose to ignore her.
Finally, the amused judge tempted the Siberian competitor with liver and collared him before he attempted another departure.
Red-faced from her exertion and embarrassment, Shelley quickly made her apologies to the good natured judge and led her Siberian rascal back to her car.
"Hey Shelley look at this!" she heard someone say behind her. She was joined by her friend who had just completed her shopping and carried premium lists of future shows in hand. "They're going to have another show here in a few months. They say there's going to be a great prize for high scoring Siberian. What do you say ? Don't you want to come back again?"