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| MY FIRST SHOW After independence in 1947, the Indian dog show scene was a bit unsettled, as a lot of enthusiasts had gone back to England. Only those who had chosen to retire in India remained and very few were actively involved in showing. The sport of dog showing was perhaps dominated by the hunting breeds and mainly the gun dogs. Sadly, the sport of hunting was on the decline as the new government had placed many restrictions on the hunters and subsequently, The Retriever Cub of India had become dormant. In 1960,The Retriever Club of India was revived and I got my Golden Retriever, Nina, at about the same time. There was frenetic activity to recruit new members, and I suppose I was one of the youngest at ten years of age. In 1961, the Club proposed to hold its speciality show in Bombay. One of the doyens of the Retriever Club was a Sohrab Patell. He happened to be a college friend of my mother's so he was able to talk her into letting me join the Club and then convinced her to let me enter Nina in the show. At home, no one had any idea of what a dog show entailed. We thought it would be like a circus, where the dogs did tricks and the winner was the one who was the trickiest! Nina knew no tricks, so we decided to teach her a few tricks to perform at the dog show. Hula hoops were big in those days, so the dog helper stood with the hula hoop erect, I stood on one side with a biscuit and Nina on the other.The idea was to get her to jump through the hoop to the other side. Unfortunately, Nina didn't realize she was supposed to do this, and I think she made it once in about 50 times! It was hopeless. The show date was nearing and my parents were getting more vexed as they comisserated with me about Nina not being ready for the show. Finally, out of desperation my mother called up Sohrab Patell and said that perhaps showing Nina was not such a good idea as she refused to learn any tricks. Naturally, Sohrab Patell was bemused that we thought Nina had to jump through a hoop to be shown. The upshot of all this was that training classes would be held a week before the show, so as to familiarize us with showing,as there were a lot of first timers (or very, very naïve individuals). Of course, we had to pay handsomely for these classes! We all gathered in the evenings at Sohrab Patell's house. There were about five of us greenhorns. All were women, besides me, a ten year old boy. The demonstrations were carried out by Sohrab Patell and his Champion Black Labrador bitch, Shyla of Patella. It looked so easy. So we practiced for about a week and all of us and our dogs were declared show worthy at the end of the week. Well, we had better be, as they had our entry and more importantly, our money. I must mention that when I was asked to replicate the instructions at home with Nina, she seemed to be absolutely indifferent to anything I said or did. However, I was assured that the atmosphere at the show was such that I would know what to do, and perhaps, so would Nina. In fact the last pep talk we got at the class enthused us to no bounds and we all knew we had to win! The day of the show dawned, and Nina was brushed one last time before we headed off to the venue. We had bathed her the previous night with my mother's shampoo and she had been given a new towel. The venue was the regal looking Sir Cowasji Jehangir Hall, and to those unfamiliar with Bombay, I can only say that it would remind you of the town hall; all marbled, with statues, a majestic portico, in fact the works. Nina, the dog helper, a very unenthusiastic mother, and I entered these hallowed halls, where about 200 dogs were barking in unison. Nina was a bit over a year old, and I don't think she had ever seen or heard so many dogs before, and neither had we. Now we had to look for our bench. We looked around but there were no benches for us to sit on, only grey boxes on stilts, with dogs sitting in them. I asked someone where the benches were and was surprised when he said I was looking at them. I told him that the dogs were sitting in them. He said the benches were for the dogs, and the chairs for us. First lesson learned. We found our bench, and now the problem was how to get Nina up in it. It was like the hula hoop; no amount of coaxing with a biscuit would get her up. Finally, the three of us lifted her bodily and put her in. She didn't enjoy that at all. I looked around and most of the other dogs were jumping up into the benches.They hadn't mentioned this part at the training. The show started and it was the dog classes first. I went along with my mother to see the early classes that were going on and most of the dogs were all acting up; obviously most of them were untrained. It was quite amusing to see the rumpus going on in the ring. Oh the joys of showing! There was one person yelling at everyone and another very large and formidable looking individual who seemed to be manhandling the dogs in the middle of the ring. Dogs were running helter skelter with harried owners being dragged after them, and this person shrieking at them. I later learned he was the ring steward and the person lifting and yanking the the dogs' tails and then doing push-ups on their rumps was the judge. The only steward I had encountered before was a dining room steward, and he never yelled and I had never seen anything like what "King Kong" was doing in the middle of the ring! My mother was looking anxious as I was having a good laugh. She asked me if I thought Icould handle Nina, and I said it would be easy; after all I had been trained. As the senior classes were called, the dogs were well-behaved and the handlers knew what they were doing. It looked so simple. In the Open Class, there were two outstanding dogs. When the placings were finally announced, there was a gasp and then a roar from the crowd. Champion Xanthic of Warwick, owned by the Daruwalla's had finally been beaten. He was beaten by Meera Mehta's Mickey's Golden Gunner who happened to have been sired by him. The King had fallen and a new King had been crowned! The dog judging was over and we were asked to get ready for the judging of the bitches. If I recall correctly, we were entered in the Novice class, and there were only the two entries, and the lady handling the competition had also been in my training classes. The puppy class had had shenanigans galore, and I think by now the judge must have been wondering where the organizers had found all these imbeciles and managed to get them to all congregate in one place. Soon we were in the ring, and the steward yelled at us to stay on the mats as the flooring was all marble. I was the second entry and the judge went over to the first dog. He asked the lady questions and then said to get the dogs mouth open. We had not been taught that at training, and after much fussing they got the mouth open. Then the tail check and the bottom press! Then the up and down, which was "no sweat", as we had been trained to do that. Then it was my turn. He asked me how old Nina was, and then he asked me how old I was! I thought he was supposed to judge the dog and that it was rather impertinent of him to ask me my age. Then the mouth business! I bent over and tried to get the mouth open, but I had to use two hands, so I let the lead go. The steward got hysterical and started screaming. I got befuddled. Nina got obstinate. The wretched mouth stayed firmly shut. I gave her mouth a heave. She snapped at me and shut tight again. The struggle went on.Then my mother jumped into the ring and we both tried to pry her mouth open, and she snapped at my mother and shut her mouth tighter. Meanwhile, the judge was getting impatient and so he told my mother he would do it. As he approached, looming imperiously over Nina, she decided enough was enough and went for him. I thought that he would fall flat on his capacious behind as he jumped back! The judge frowned, pursed his lips and with an intense expression he cocked his head to one side and decided that Nina's mouth looked good shut, so he dispensed with the mouth check. By now the steward had gone completely hysterical and was yelling at my mother to get out of the ring and muttering and moaning to all and sundry that children should not be allowed to handle dogs. "What an idiot!", I thought at that time. The judge told me to go in front, and hold her head tight while he did the body check. He was quick. He yanked her tail and shoved down hard on her rump, and I had to be quick too, to avoid Nina who yelped and wanted to maul me. He seemed satisfied, and told us to go up and down. Fortunately there were no mishaps, because this, I had been trained for! We came back for the last part of our judging. He placed the lady ahead of me and said that we had to run in a circle. Now, I don't think the lady had run for some years because she visibly blanched. Anyway we started and I think her bitch was fed up too, as at the far end of the ring she bolted out of the ring, dragging the lady behind her. Nina took this as her cue, and barrelled on behind her dragging me along. Suddenly, the judge had nothing to judge, and there was mayhem at the ringside. I was rescued by my mother and the lady by her husband. By the time we got back in to the ring, the steward had had an apoplectic fit, the judge looked thoroughly disgusted, and Sohrab Patell, sitting at the organizer’s table, pretended not to know us! Well, I got a second place and a card to go with it. The steward looked at both of us daggers drawn and a look of relief swept over his face as we exited. My mother was quite upset and said we were going home immediately, and that this was her first and last show. She told me she had never been so humiliated in all her life! Over a thousand people were tittering while we strutted our stuff in the ring. I hadn't heard them, and neither did a lot of the others who had been wrestling with their dogs in the ring. In retrospect, I think about ninety percent of the exhibitors and exhibits should have been jettisoned from the show. I should probably have been one of the first to go. I wanted to stay and some kind soul offered to drop me home. I suppose he thought I needed to be rewarded for my more than stellar performance! I remember Stuart's Ch. Mango of Surrey, an exquisite Golden Retriever bitch going Best Bitch in the Show. She looked very different from Nina and I wondered how she had won. After all Nina, in my eyes, was the best Golden Retriever there, despite her second placing, and we had a prize card to prove it! I was also given a prize for being the youngest handler (mishandler?) in the ring. It was quite an experience and the only good thing that came about was that people now knew my name (infamous?), and the small little cup that they had managed to dig up at the last moment which got me hooked on showing forever. Nina never won anything after this. Stuart's Golden Retriever bitch, Indian Champion Mango of Surrey still holds the Bitch Breed Record. My mother never ever went to a show again. |
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