The Winner

Creative Non-Fiction Narrative

My dream was the show ring, blue ribbons, perfect recalls, fast flyball runs, and conformation judges.  Wency shared my dream, and soon my adventures. Prickly and dower, a real people person if you held a leash with a dog at the end.  Wency could work magic and all dogs knew it from the first meeting -- all but a crazy, one year old golden retriever.  Goldie loved everyone and was effusive and ill mannered, and she was all mine.  All I wanted was to become one competitive working team with this goofy golden retriever.   Without Goldie, there would be no Wency and without Wency there would have been no dog shows, no dog show travels, no dog show family.

Kismet and canines brought Wency into my life.  Goldie and I had attended one of the local puppy obedience classes at our local humane society.  Goldie loved class, loved the trainer, loved all the other puppies, loved being out, loved moving at the end of the leash, loved life; what she struggled with was focusing on a task and following directions.  There were no strangers to Goldie and she insisted on proving it to everyone.  She didn’t pull on the leash that tethered her to me, but she would stand just at the end, before it became taught in my hand, and she would bounce on her front feet, up and down, ears flopping, tongue lolling, eyes twinkling, emitting the highest pitch yip she could muster with every bounce. She performed these antics for every person who happened past.  No doubt about it, she was the most loving and easily distractible dog in every class, and there would be many.  

Even with our challenges, we were invited to join the local obedience club.  I think the trainers in the club pitied me, and hoped they could “fix” my golden, because ALL goldens are naturally calm, intelligent and obedient, HA! Goldie and I would eventually show them all.  Normally, dogs attended meetings with their people.  Goldie stayed home for my initial meeting, I knew better.  I arrived, parked and walked back to the multipurpose room at the local humane society.  Members arrived with their adoring companions attentively at heal.  There were Weimaraners and Rottweilers, Border Collies and Boston Terriers, French Bulldogs and American Staffordshire Bulldogs, Bernese Mountain Dogs, Bichon Frise, and all Americans (aka mixed breeds), all shapes and sizes, differing personalities and breed specific temperaments, and all had one thing in common, they all knew how to act in public.  The sight of all these well mannered canines, with their confident handlers confirmed my decision to leave Goldie at home.

Beyond all these well mannered mutts, there was one standout and she belonged to Wency.  I spent more time watching the incredibly well mannered Aussie under the chairs ahead of me, than I did listening to the speaker.  Wency was her “mom”, and there was no mistaking the adoration and respect that Angela the Aussie had for her.  No physical leash necessary, that dog was tethered to Wency through her soul and showed it through her eyes.  I wanted that relationship with my Goldie, and I had to meet Wency.  I was sure she had the answers.  I took a deep breath and breached the briar hedge of introversion that protected her from adoring humans.

It was well worth that first awkward encounter.  We were fast friends.  Wency became my mentor, my dog show travel buddy, my best friend and my work partner.  She taught me training and handling and consistency and canine co-parenting.  I watched in awe as she could take a leash and within minutes turn a canine menace into a masterful, obedient partner.  Wency taught skills, but she composed duets.  She and her dogs were the best of dance partners, connected mind, body and soul.  Over the years, I never saw her unable to work a dog who didn’t quickly and confidently acquiesce to Wency’s guidance.  But first she had to master Goldie the Golden Retriever.  Like the other trainers we had met, Wency was sure the problem was me, not Goldie.  She had no idea what she had in store for her.

It was another obedience class, another trainer from the club, and still Goldie was inconsistent at best, and completely noncompliant at worst.  Wency was there with her angel in an Australian Shepherd body, working adoringly off-leash, dancing alongside her human partner.  Oh how I longed for that partnership.  Wency watched as Goldie and I struggled through our exercises, shook her head, and then came to me with a knowing smile.  She put Angela on a down stay in the gazebo and put a hand out to me.  Not a word was exchanged as I handed her  my Goldie, my hopes, and my plea for help.  With a confident flourish and a wisp of cigarette smoke, Wency grasped the leash and stepped away to the right, catching Goldie off guard but quickly bringing her to heal -- eye contact, head wrap, perfect form -- success, Wency smiled -- but it was to be fleeting.  As Goldie stepped into heal and looked up at Wency, she caught a nose full of that smoke, and Goldie had something to say about cigarette smoke.  Seventy-five pounds of golden retriever came to a dead stop. Her lips curled up, the pink tip of her tongue popped forward under her black nose, her head reared back, and she started to sneeze.  Not a single “phew”, but a stream of body wracking, snurffling kerchoos.  Goldie’s entire front half was melodramatically reacting to that wiff of smoke, her head would throw back, her front feet would bounce up off the ground, and and the sneeze would leave her nose ahead of squinched eyes and flying, flopping, golden ears.  Other class members snickered, and the first round win was awarded to my goofy golden retriever.  Goldie did not approve of smoking.

With a lot of time and determination, Wency and I did have some training successes with Goldie, but she was ever to remain a sweet, “blonde joke” of an adoring but hyperactive Golden Retriever.  Wency and I went on to become the best of friends, traveling together, showing Australian Shepherds together (yep, “I got me a smart dog”), and eventually Wency came to work along side me as an obedience trainer for the humane society.  We made a great team.  Through all our successes, we often recalled the first smoky meeting of that sneezing Goldie, and laugh at her antics and our joy and our dog show life that unfolded from that first encounter.

Author's Note

suggestions, reviews, comments, edits welcome. It feels rough, but not sure where to go with it.

Reviews

[Mik Mak]

Your wording sounds really professinal. It is a bit confusing though, there were a bunch of names in the beginning, which makes what the story is about sort of confusing. But overall it was good.

[jenniwhite1]

I love how detailed and sweet this piece is because I could visualize each step along the way throughout the writing. Did Goldie ever win a show? I also love the bond of friendship you shared. #LRWP2016