Just Happens to Be a Judge

What runs through a judge's mind while examining dogs? For Laurie Telfair, who judges German Shepherd Dogs and other herding breeds, her perspective is influenced by experiences in the ring and beyond.

Describing herself as "an exhibitor who happens to judge," freely sharing self-mocking remarks about "bumbling along for 54 years," Telfair says competing is "not about excelling, because I've un-excelled as much as possible!" Assuring me this is not false modesty, throughout our discussion Telfair reveals how this attitude shaped her into a better judge.

Early Experiences

Curious about animals from a young age, at 12 years of age Telfair was drawn to a woman who moved into her Memphis neighborhood. "I heard she was an AKC handler, so I showed up on her doorstep." After school each day, Telfair eagerly went to learn something new about dogs. "Actually, I was probably a nuisance! But she let me come by all the time."

Around this time, Telfair's parents got her "an unruly German Shepherd, who I took to obedience class and earned a CD title." Transforming that dog from ruffian into gentleman, combined with knowledge acquired from her neighbor, inspired Telfair to take the next step – showing in the ring. "My parents weren't into shows at all. But they were indulgent, and they humored me."

Telfair was so excited by the ring, she not only showed her own dog but asked to handle other people's dogs. As a teenager, through the mid 1950s, showing became an obsession. Still, Telfair realized she was no star. "I was, and I remain, despite studious attempts, a terrible handler. I do it because I love the dogs, not because I'm good at it. I've made peace with this long ago."

Friends in Need

Telfair went off to college and stopped showing. She got married, and her husband went to war in Vietnam, the beginning of a stressful time in Telfair's life. "My husband was going for repeated tours of duty. We moved frequently."

Between moves, Telfair got her next German Shepherd, who eased the loneliness of being constantly uprooted. She also reached out to the dog community. "Every time we moved, I'd call the local kennel club and have a set of friends. They always made a place for me, even if I was only there five months."

"I can't do obedience very well, but I discovered I'm a pretty good coach." That thinking led Telfair to contact a friend who owns an obedience school, where she took over the beginner classes. On and off during the war years, Telfair taught children and adults.

Branching Out

After a long hiatus, in 1983, with her two children in college and her marriage coming to an end, Telfair re-entered the show world, which she had been dreaming about for years. "I could pursue dogs with a passion I hadn't been able to have in the first 40 years of my life."

Middle-aged, living in Dallas, with similar curiosity she had as a 12-year-old, Telfair explored herding. "I went to trainers in Dallas, but they were mostly Border Collie people and had never seen a German Shepherd herd."

Telfair decided there was a need for a new herding club. She and a friend, Diane Brantley, spent three years recruiting members, finding meeting places, and convincing the AKC to approve their plan. Telfair traveled hundreds of miles for advice from people who ran successful herding clubs. In 1996, the AKC approved the club, naming it the North Central Texas Herding Dog Association.

Although they have since stepped out of leadership roles, Telfair and Brantley served as club president and vice president for many years. "Ours was the first all-breed herding club in Texas. It's still the only all-breed herding club in Texas, going strong today."

Although quite different, conformation led Telfair to herding. "My goal is to have champions. But I love training, preparation, grooming, getting dogs into mental and physical condition. When my dogs herd, they look better than ever. Watching herding is also an advantage for anyone who wants to judge." Although she was not yet judging, Telfair took mental notes.

Herding gave Telfair ideas about attitude. "In the ring, lots of dogs give you one nice trip around. But then it's like, 'Why do you want to do that again? We already went there!' In herding, they stay engaged the whole time. There's purpose to it. It's marvelous to watch."

As proud as Telfair is of the dogs she has trained, and her success creating the club, she offers a bit of wry humor at her own expense: "Herding is really about stock. But herding trials are great for suburbanites who know nothing about stock. I just want to watch my dogs move!"

She expanded her teaching, adding Canine Good Citizen training. "We teach beginner skills and CGC in the same class. The two things go together very well."

Looking for another morale booster, Telfair discovered Rally. "It's a forgiving sport. You go in with real expectations to succeed, unlike obedience and conformation. I've put three Rally titles on my dogs this past year. Believe me, it's more fun succeeding than failing, even for someone with lots of practice failing!"

Rally offered an opportunity for some out-of-the-classroom teaching. "A friend had never seen Rally before. We printed signs off the Internet. I told her how to practice. She trained the dog at home, then I took him into the ring, stumbled along, put a title on him. She was so proud because she did the training."

Connecting it All in Judging

In 2000, Telfair's curiosity led the way again. "I realized I'd never have influence on German Shepherds because I don't breed much, and my dogs aren't well known. But maybe I could have some influence judging. Also, I just love being at shows. It's addictive. Sometimes, I think we should put a notice up: If you or someone you know is addicted to dog shows, call 1-800-DON'T-GO. Being a judge was a way for me to go to more shows."

She got her first assignment in 2001, with German Shepherds, and has since been approved to judge half the herding breeds.

How does Telfair feel being a judge, thinking of herself as only moderately successful with her dogs? She says her experiences make her more sympathetic. "I'm well aware of what people put into this – hopes, dreams, effort, money. Most judges are very good, but once in a while I showed under someone who didn't even look at my dog. That told me what I wouldn't do as a judge. And no dog wakes up in the morning saying, 'I really want to get into a ring!' I make it fun for people and rewarding for dogs. I don't mind if exhibitors feed their dogs while showing – though I prefer they don't do it as I'm examining the mouth!"

While judging, Telfair draws on herding and obedience experiences. "I understand dogs' fitness, and can sense when a dog is mentally keen."

Becoming a judge has not changed Telfair's conviction that acceptance of small successes is an achievement. "Perhaps I could become a better competitor. But I don't care to win all the time. Enjoyment comes from being with your dog, learning something, being with other show people. You don't have to attain the highest level to benefit from these activities."

Expanding Versatility

When Judith Voris got her first dog, Freda, as a little girl growing up in New Jersey in the 1960s, she could not have imagined that one day she would preside over a realm of active Weimaraner owners hailing from across the country and engaging in just about every sport their dogs are capable of.

In the early 1990s in Seattle, with the memory of Freda on her mind, Voris got another Weimaraner named Greta. Although Voris had no goals for Greta beyond being a house dog, there were inklings of what was to come. "Greta was a pet, but being a competitive person, I decided to get into obedience."

A Widening Search

Greta could not quite keep up with Voris' growing expectations. "I realized she wasn't put together for jumping. After all, she was meant to be a pet. I wanted a dog who could go further with obedience." Voris began an odyssey to find the best Weimaraner breeders, dogs who could do all she was asking of them physically.

In 1996, Voris found what she was looking for. "After a two-year search, I got Reign. I was just going to do obedience with her, but the breeder wanted me to do conformation." Voris had never competed in the ring, but this sounded interesting, fitting with her competitive spirit. Initially, Voris saw conformation as a way to prime Reign for obedience. "I was thinking, you run around the ring, give the dog treats, and she'll get acclimated to the show scene so when she does obedience it'll be no big deal."

Far from just a preparation for obedience, Reign did well in the ring. It was not long before Voris wanted a conformation championship. Reign came through.

For a couple of years, Voris was satisfied with success in obedience and conformation. Then she discovered that the Weimaraner Club of America sponsors shooting tests and retriever tests. She could not resist the urge to see how Reign might do. Again, Reign did not disappoint her owner, passing the shooting, retrieving, and junior hunt tests. "She had a passion for field work. Just over the top – swimming, retrieving, bird work – an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime dog. She was not young, six years old at the time. If I had known, I would have started much sooner with her."

Voris wanted to begin breeding, get dogs into field work at a young age. Reign offered what Voris needed, becoming the foundation for the Regen Weimaraner line.

As well as Reign did, Voris could tell something was missing. She saw exactly what it was. "Unfortunately, Reign was handler-challenged in the field! I didn't know enough about field work to get her beyond a point."

Versatility From a Tiny Age

With a breeding line in place, Voris focused on her own education, learning about field work and becoming a better handler. She implemented new ideas into her breeding program, beginning with extensive early training.

When Voris says "early," she means it. "At four days old, we do stimulus tests, originally developed for the military. You hold the puppies vertically, count one one thousand, two one thousand...Hold them upside down, then horizontally with their little feet in the air...Put them on a cold towel...Count again. You tickle their little toes with Q-tips. This gets things moving in their tiny brains."

Voris keeps records as tests continue in the following weeks, recording progress and discerning early signs of the skills she prizes. "Before their eyes open, I put little plastic balls in the whelping box to see which ones totter on over. I'll put things with different tactile surfaces like a rough or a smooth object."

When the puppies are just a couple of weeks old, Voris brings out her baby agility equipment. "I put a little teeter-totter in there, a bitty dog walk, a baby tunnel."

At the mature age of four weeks, Voris introduces her puppies to the field, or more accurately, she brings the field to the puppies. Beginning with the sounds of the wild, Voris plays gun-shot recordings while they eat. "I pop in the CD, a little louder each day. They learn that noises like gun shots are good things." Then, at six weeks, "I put a live quail in front of them. They don't hurt it, but they start doing little baby pointing. It's fascinating to see."

Voris then begins testing for the concentration and focus needed in obedience competitions. "I'll use film canisters sprayed with cheese. The puppies lick it, pick it up. I catch it when they drop it. That teaches them to retrieve."

All the while, Voris monitors subtle characteristics. "I'm looking for ones that want to work, who have that 'put me in coach' attitude." These are the dogs that Voris will soon compete with in the ring and in the field.

A Versatility Network

Prospective buyers now begin calling Voris. After close training, Voris understands her puppies in ways not easily explained. When someone wants a puppy, she listens, then makes a decision. "Matching people with the right puppies is the key to everything. People say, 'I want this puppy.' No way! I pick out puppies for them."

Choosing puppies for buyers carries a lot meaning for Voris. In addition to breeding dogs that excel in many sports, Voris is building a network of Regen Weimaraner owners. In 2005, Voris formed "Regen List," where her buyers communicate with each other on the Internet.

For active people and active dogs, the Internet is not enough, so Voris established "Regen Camp." Owners from across the country come to Seattle to showcase everything their Regen Weimaraners can do. "This year, we're doing tracking, agility, obedience, bird work, and conformation. We'll get together three days before our local specialty show. We'll tune everyone for the show and help each other. The ones who are good at obedience mentor the newbies. People who have never done field work can feel safe trying it. An 'agility gal' will run a little clinic. At our last camp, one owner was afraid to get into the obedience ring. Someone said, 'Don't worry, you'll be fine, I was scared the first time, too.'"

Teaching the Teacher

Voris is a former school teacher, and she thinks of herself as an educator for buyers. Like a great teacher, Voris learns from her students. Quite often, she is pleased to discover surprising ways in which that early puppy training plays out. "One woman does search and recovery of accident victims. She has body parts in her freezer! The dog demonstrated for us: out on a river, a guy goes under water. The dog's on a boat and points where the 'victim' is. The guy pops up, gives the dog a treat, goes back under."

After watching a student do tracking, Voris gave it a try with her current Weimaraner, Pepper. "I put a tracking title on her. It's all so exciting, and I keep learning a lot."

Voris says the best moments are when students surpass her. "One guy just won the AKC invitational with his dog, Booster. He's doing so well, I'm letting him handle my Weimaraners. I enjoy activities with my dogs, but I get a thrill seeing what other people can do!"

Surprisingly Agile

The dogs race through the agility course, each one zipping into the "the tunnel," a 20'-foot flexible tube. The crowd cheers wildly as the next competitor enters the tunnel. The cheering turns to laughter as the tube bulges and the dog inside worms through, slower than the others but pushing ahead with steady determination. Finally, the dog emerges, and the crowd goes wild as they see that it is Kris, a Saint Bernard. He looks completely out of place among the other competitors who are half his size and weight, and twice his speed. With a playful bark, Kris turns and follows his owner, John Cox, for the next turn.

What's a Saint Bernard Doing Here?

When most people, including Saint Bernard owners, think of agility, they imagine small or medium-sized dogs quickly negotiating turns, not ones who press clustrophobically against the sides of a tunnel.

Cox says he was surprised to realize Kris was good at this. He has owned Saint Bernards since 1969, earning championships in conformation, plus titles in tracking, obedience, draft and weight-pulling. Cox is an obedience judge and has an eye for physical soundness as well as beauty. In 1997, at a national specialty in Colorado, he met Kris's father. "I really liked the dog. He had come over from Belgium for the show. I stayed in contact with the owners after they went home, and I got a puppy from their next litter in 1998."

That was Kris. He turned out to have excellent physical form. Over the next few years, Kris earned conformation, obedience, rally, tracking, draft and weight-pulling titles. "The agility, I had never thought of. Even now, it sometimes seems like an oxymoron – Saint Bernard agility Master!"

In addition to Kris, Cox and his wife own a Corgi, who also competes in agility. "I used to go with her to training classes. One day in 2002, I took Kris, just for fun. I was completely surprised at how well he did. I got him into novice competition. We both were hooked." Two months later, Kris earned his first agility title.

Giant Challenges

It has been an exciting adventure, such unexpected success. But it has not been easy, as Cox and his crowd-pleasing Saint Bernard have, literally, faced several obstacles.

Before each event, competitors walk through the course. The configuration depends on the judge's choices. Cox is humorous about Kris' challenges. "Sometimes, I joke that I've got to steer an oil tanker! On jumps, when Kris lands it takes him a while to catch and turn. Even though he's pretty fast and agile, it's difficult for him. A Sheltie can land and turn simultaneously. Kris can't do that. When he lands, it takes him a couple more bounces to turn in the next direction."

While the tunnel is great for getting a rise out of the crowd, it dampens Kris's overall time. "Kris actually loves the tunnels, and dives right in. But it gets us with the clock. You take a dog like Kris, who's 30 inches tall. The tunnels are not quite 24 inches, so he has to jam himself in and crawl for 20 feet."

Depending on the judge, there may be just one tunnel, or as many as three. "Sometimes, we lose a qualifying round by a couple of seconds. That's when there are three tunnels."

The weave polls, another crowd favorite, present more challenges. This is a series of polls, and dogs must snake quickly in and out of them. "Because of the length of his body, it takes Kris much more time. One little twitch of his head and he's going from one weave poll to the next. A smaller dog, like a Corgi, can use his whole body. Kris can only work his head."

Some course elements present safety issues for large dogs. "With the dog walk, the surface is just one foot wide. I can't race Kris across and risk having him fall off, so we approach it very slowly and make up time somewhere else."

At the "novice" level, there are challenges enough. Kris reached the "excellent" level, which shows his abilities but presents tighter time requirements and more severe jump and turn angles.

Maybe Not So Unusual, After All?

What is the point of having a dog like Kris compete in agility? Cox believes that agility for giant breeds is more natural than it first appears.

Agility is a perfect way to test a dog's basic physical soundness, which all dog owners should think about. "You can't do this if the dog has bad hips or elbows. They wouldn't be able to compete because something would hurt them. The dog has to have a good rear end to push 150 pounds over the jump, and good shoulders and elbows, because they take all the force on landings. If your dog hasn't been conditioned, or isn't very sound, things fall apart fast and you have injuries."

After succeeding in obedience for many years, Cox says he was looking for a new way for his dogs to express their personalities. He believes agility brings something extra out of any dog. "With these kinds of sports, there's a little more spark behind the eyes, a little more charisma."

Then there is the energy Kris derives from the boisterous crowd. "He's such a ham. People cheering and laughing charges him up. It helps us do better when people are making all that noise."

A central tenet of conformation judging is that dogs should be physically able to do what their breed was created for. Cox say that with some giant breeds, agility is as good a test, or even better. "Saint Bernards were originally bred for going up mountains. They had to jump over obstacles and get under and through things. Even though few people are doing agility, it's not a foreign concept."

Making Agility More Giant-Breed Friendly?

Kris is nine, and recently retired from agility. Cox has been inspired to continue with future dogs, and push more Saint Bernard owners, as well as owners of other giant breeds, to discover agility. For this to happen, agility competitions need to become more welcoming for giant breeds.

"I'd like to see wider planks on the dog walk. That would be a lot safer. This might be a reason why giant breeds don't show up for agility."

Agility competitions are timed, and dogs are grouped into 24-, 20-, and 16-inch height categories, with 16-inch dogs having more time. There is no category suitable to Saint Bernards. "If there was a list of massive dogs in agility, and those dogs were allowed to run at the 16-inch time, that would be best. With a little more time, we wouldn't have to rush, and it would be safer."

This proposal maintains the intensity of competitions. "The times would still be tight. The dogs would still have to turn in a good performance, and couldn't run off course. We don't want any gifts. All we want is a fair competition."

But these changes will not occur until more giant-breed owners come out for agility. Kris will continue to spread the word. "I never had any intention of doing agility with Kris. But he's encouraged me to do more. People with giant breeds see Border Collies doing agility, and they think, 'I couldn't do that.' Then they see Kris, and it makes them eager to at least give it a try."

Hunting for Knowledge

Janet McMillan-Zwirko is proud of her ability to pick potential hunters or conformation champions from a litter of German Shorthaired Pointer puppies. That is today. In 1981, it was a different story. "I knew nothing about this breed or hunting. I barely knew dog shows existed."

She eventually got a hunting license, and is now a German Shorthaired Pointer expert. But some things never changed. "I'm a terrible shot, so I often leave the gun home!"

McMillan-Zwirko tells her 27-year story in chapters named for the dogs she has owned.

Ramsay

In 1981, McMillan-Zwirko's fiancée, Jan, wanted a puppy for his birthday. Following the advice to give gifts you would like to receive, she gave him Ramsay.

"He'd go out hunting with Ramsay, and I'd watch. Ramsay was calm and methodical. He'd go back and forth carefully in the field."

Ramsay offered McMillan-Zwirko a glimpse into the depth of human-dog connections. In those early outings, she felt exhilarated. "Nothing is more exciting than seeing that light go off – your dog recognizes a bird and knows he's hunting."

Gretsie

For five years, Ramsay fascinated McMillan-Zwirko, sparking her interest in the breed. In 1986, she heard about a German Shorthaired Pointer available through rescue. She adopted the dog, naming her Gretsie.

Seeing Gretsie and Ramsay hunt together, McMillan-Zwirko observed clear personality differences. "Ramsay would hang back. But Gretsie had no fear and would just run."

McMillan learned this suddenly. After Gretsie's spaying, McMillan-Zwirko and Jan were scouting for hunting spots. "Out of nowhere, a pheasant flew up. Gretsie jumped through the open truck window to chase the bird. She still had her stitches from surgery! Right there, Gretsie taught us about drive and desire."

Mandy and Feather

McMillan-Zwirko was getting better at hunting, although still rarely taking a gun into the field. In 1989, with Ramsay and Gretsie in their geriatric years, McMillan-Zwirko sought a dog with good energy who was also trainable. She found it in Mandy.

After eight years working with German Shorthaired Pointers, McMillan-Zwirko decided to breed her first litter. In 1991, Mandy whelped 11 puppies. McMillan-Zwirko kept Feather, a male.

Around the time Mandy had her litter, and as McMillan-Zwirko began working with Feather, she had her first dog show experience. "This opened my eyes to what we could do, other than hunting." McMillan-Zwirko spoke with people about conformation, hunt tests, field trials, and other events. "I came home and told Jan, 'you hunt with them. I want to start doing more'."

Although Feather did not win many ribbons, he helped McMillan-Zwirko see how exciting it is to work in the ring. She realized that skills needed in the ring were similar to those for hunting. "Feather was so dependable in the water. If a bird went down, he was right there to get it. He stayed with me. In the ring, he listened to everything I told him and was always by my side."

Nellie

After the deaths of Gretsie and Ramsay in 1993 and 1994, with thoughts of Feather's conformation experiences, McMillan-Zwirko wanted to succeed in the ring. In 1995, she saw a litter. A female caught her attention. This was Nellie, her next great adventure.

Oddly, Nellie, bred for conformation, initially had little energy for the sport. "She worked with me, and earned seven points, but she wasn't comfortable."

McMillan-Zwirko brought Nellie to hunt trials, and was pleasantly surprised. "For a long time, she had no interest in quail. Then one day she pointed one out. It was as if she suddenly said, 'See, I can do it!' She competed, and got a leg on her hunting title."

The sport-switching Nellie gave McMillan-Zwirko the urge to find more multi-skilled dogs.

Barron

In the mid-1990s, McMillan-Zwirko became involved in rescue. One day in 1995, she learned about a Shorthair in terrible shape. He turned out to be a dog from Mandy's 1991 litter.

"The buyer passed Barron to someone else, who gave him as a gift to his girlfriend." McMillan-Zwirko vividly recalls Barron's condition. "He wasn't fed, so he only weighed 49 pounds and his tail was too thin. He had heartworm. No vaccinations. He had been abused. If we made swift hand motions, he'd cringe."

Over the next six months, McMillan-Zwirko got Barron to full health. She then took him into the field, where he shed his fears. "He was an excellent hunter. When he found a bird, he never broke his point. He wouldn't run or chase the bird."

McMillan-Zwirko had never seen this kind of focus.

Because he was so steady, McMillan-Zwirko gave Barron a chance in the show ring. This rescued dog, bred for hunting, was a natural. "He didn't show until five years of age, but he did so well."

Barron's show career abruptly ended when he needed a mass cell tumor removed from his chest at eight years of age. He lived to be 17.

Topper

In 2003, when McMillan-Zwirko went to see a friend's litter, something stirred in her. She believed she had found her breakthrough dog. "Just a day old, but I took a look at one and wanted him."

As a hopeful sign, she named him Topper.

All her experiences with so many different dog personalities seemed to come together. "Topper was my first conformation champion. He finished in 2005, at just two years old."

Topper was also winning hunt trials. And while he was at it, McMillan-Zwirko competed with him in Rally, earning a title in 2007.

McMillan-Zwirko currently competes in the ring, the field, and rally with Topper and two other dogs – Chance and Libby. She is also more involved in rescue work, and recently became a hunt test judge.

Connections

McMillan-Zwirko has owned dogs meant to be hunters who ended up better in the ring, and show dogs who proved more apt in the field. She has learned lessons from this. "First, keep your sense of humor. Without that, you're nowhere with dogs."

It is great to have goals as an owner, but McMillan-Zwirko suggests giving each dog individual attention. "Take your dogs out one at a time to see each one's personality and aptitude. Otherwise, some dogs overpower the others. Some dogs aren't bold enough until you work with them alone."

After seeing what each individual dog possesses, the owner must hone it. "Every one of my dogs is so different. All dogs have abilities – and issues! Find their best. Focus on that, without accidentally bringing out their worst."