The Westchester Kennel Club's September 1995 show was enough to restore the enthusiasm and joie de vivre that sometimes sadly seems to be the province of the wide-eyed novice. It was a blue and gold day on the glorious Lyndhurst estate, where I imagined a simpler era of lemonade being served to ladies in picture hats. On this day, the lemonade came in red and white paper cups, the tents glimmered in the sunshine and the air was cool and clear. Vendors offered everything from fluffy hedgehogs to flea spray to frisbees.
Eighty-three Boxers lined up for the New York Boxer Club (NYBC) specialty and sweepstakes, the largest breed entry at the show. Handlers and exhibitors began to gather in the pre-dawn darkness outside the gates to be sure of getting a good parking spot.
Once inside, they took grooming tables from their vans and motor homes, exercised their dogs and consumed coffee at an astonishing pace. Familiar and not-so-familiar faces were seen at ringside as the morning unfolded-respected judges, oldtime breeders, the elite of the AKC, anxious newcomers and the show committee members in their smart navy and white.
Families with children repeatedly asked if Boxers were good with kids. Their questions were answered by the dogs themselves, which never hesitated to wipe little faces with wet Boxer tongues. Old friends reacquainted themselves, other friendships were formed and rivalries were renewed.
And lo! the "expected" dog didn't win, an amateur took Best of Breed, a glorious bitch finished from the puppy class and a fine young dog took his second major. It was enough to make us really enjoy being at a dog show again, to remind us why we all began to attend shows in the first place, to make us remember that we used to look forward to rising at 5 a.m. to get to a show on time.
No one wanted to go home. Long after the judging ended, we Boxer people lingered. First we went to the NYBC hospitality tent for huge New York-style deli sandwiches, potato chips and conversation. Then we attended a friend's surprise birthday party and wandered over for champagne offered by one of the big winners. At last there was time to give the show concessions a thorough inspection and we made appropriate purchases, from pedestrian collars and leads to glitzy sweatshirts to designer dog handbags at the Dog Museum booth.
Many of us gathered at the Take the Lead booth to remember absent friends. When the Groups began, we stood and cheered, imagining it was our dog in the limelight in the center of the big ring, trying to make the magic of the afternoon last just a little longer. And it did.
Stephanie Abraham
P. O. Box 346
Scotland, CT 06264
