Chapter 34
(Summer of 2009):
From Court Jester to Prince
On August 1st Aunt Sarabeth, Mummy, Diarmuid and I went to a big dog show in Bremen: seven halls of canines! We watched from Irish Wolfhounds to Havanese. Eight-year-old neighbour girl Yasmin, who often comes to play with Diarmuid, accompanied us. Diarmuid and I took turns watching over Yasmin and both of us knew to behave for her. When Yasmin was alone with one of us and someone asked our breed, she didn’t know how to say Irish Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier. But Mummy had given her one of our calling cards and whenever someone stopped to look at us, she whipped it out like lightning and proudly pointed to the breed name. We were a real hit that day and had a lot of interviews, only as spectators this time but the next one was to be Diarmuid’s debut. Drum roll … Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Aunt Michaela and Uncle Meino of Errigal Wheatens came with their own three Wheatens the next day to trim the Bison for his first show. Darcy and I got in a tiff and their girls were banned to the car in the carport (Hah! I won!), but Seamus and Diarmuid could play in the yard. Then Diarmuid had to go up on the table. As the mane finally came off, it became clear that he should have his ears glued; they’re so heavy, not like my delicate princess ears. So there!
Before While
Still "while" Almost finished
After Finally back to playing
A weeklater we packed my car for Diarmuid’s first show. Can you believe it? He was the main character in this play and I was a spectator. Hello???? Everybody was concentrating on the Court Jester. Frau Petra Richter, a well-renowned breeder (Wheatens vom Diekhof), put him on the table, snipped a bit more and promised to glue his ears after he was finished in the ring.
Diarmuidwas first in the ring that morning, with Aunt Michaela. The judge really liked him - even if he did want to sit instead of standing - and asked Michaela if she would keep him. “Unfortunately, he’s not mine”, answered Michaela. “That’s a pity”, replied the judge and dictated a very good judgement of him with “very promising” as his rating, the best a puppy can get. Now everybody thinks he’s a prince! But after he had been in the ring with the other most promising terrier puppies, it had been a long day and we all forgot to glue his ears and went home.
So the nextSaturday we all piled back in my car and drove 3 hours to Diekhof, where kind Frau Richter glued Diarmuid’s ears, offered to help us any time and agreed that he ought to be shown again. Hmmmmm. They only showed the Princess once and I was deemed “excellent”. So why does he get a second showing? Who cares? He’s just a bratty little brother and the show ring is nothing compared to agility. To be continued.
From the Richters’ we drove to the Baltic Sea and had FISH for lunch. Diarmuid and I proved that two dogs under the table are just as quiet and well-behaved as one. Then we walked to the dog beach. Diarmuid was crazy about all the other dogs and I went into the water deeper than ever before because the Court Jester is a ninny. He only got his paws wet.
Now comes the bad news: I have been told that I have to retire from agility because I am not seeing the jumps well enough to judge when to leap, thus starting too soon. I clear them with more than enough space and throw a bar less seldom than any of the others in my group, but my trainers are afraid that I will land too short and hurt myself. Huh? Giving up our exemplary teamwork, for which we’ve so often been praised, breaks Mummy’s heart but Diarmuid will take my place in spring. Hello? The brat again? As a consolation I have been enrolled in the new Rally-Obedience course, which I can do as long as I can walk. (Good grief! I’m not even 10 yet!) Diarmuid is in the other Rally-O class in order to get him ready for agility next year. Between you and me, I find Rally-O boring but I’ll do whatever Mummy wants me to, because she and I are a team and we love each other.
Sunday wasbetter; I had my 3rd to last (gulp!) agility trials. Mummy blew the first course by being indecisive about how to get me past the wrong tunnel entrance, so I just took over and went into it. After all, isn’t that what she was thinking about? I always read her mind. In the second run (Jumping) I had learned my lesson about her indecision and when Mummy lost track of where we were, I just went on and showed her where we were supposed to go. “Oh yeah”, she said, “Thanks, Gráinne” and we took home second place, my 18th trophy.