By Peter Baynes

Nineteen eighty four, it was a very good year, not only because it was the year that George Orwell’s prediction of the Big Brother Society had not yet materialized but, for me, it was a very busy year. In addition to my usual handling schedule, I was writing a monthly column for Andrew Brace’s British magazine Dogs Monthly, and also presenting handling clinics. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to attend the AKC Centennial, plus Crufts and Westminster (both in February, within hours of each other), and squeeze in the following overseas assignments.

The icing on the cake was the invitation to judge the prestigious all-breed puppy stakes at Windsor Championship Show over three days. I presumed this was my reward for finding a nice American Beagle (destined for stardom in Britain) for the Suttons, who were the driving force behind the Windsor show. Stanley Dangerfield was, however, the main instigator.

Stanley suggested that I should arrive a week early, and maybe he could arrange that I would judge with him in Belgium, the Sunday before the Windsor three day show. I made the early flight arrangements, to London, but heard no more about the Belgian appointment.

Stanley and his wife, Lucille, picked us up at the airport on Friday morning, and Stanley gave me the startling announcement that I was judging along with him on Sunday, in Hasselt. I had no idea where Hasselt was, and more important, I had never judged on the Continent of Europe before, and although I had witnessed some confusing FCI shows, I was not fully conversant with the procedure.

All I knew was that I would have to grade the dogs, and issue a critique on each animal. Stanley said not to worry, he would advise me on the way to the show. The trip to Calais from Dover on the Hovercraft was exciting, and Lucille chose the scenic route through France and Belgium, via Dunkirk, for the first nights stay in picturesque Mechelin. Unfortunately, we were enjoying the trip so much, that we never got around to discussing the show, and so I arrived in Hasselt on Saturday afternoon without any mentoring.

The first hint that this was a serious show was on the first evening when we met all the other judges, from many countries, including another young British judge, Chris Bexon, who is now a well-known figure in British dogdom. Several of the European judges were quite friendly, especially as we were with the renowned Stanley Dangerfield, and also when they learned that I knew Bobby Fisher.

That evening they held a wonderful banquet, and sitting next to me at the VIP table was the lady treasurer of the club who spoke perfect English. Trying to learn more about Hasselt, I learned that they were proud of a famous writer of the twelfth century Hendrik van Veldeke and that Bouviers were first shown in Hasselt in the early 1900s. There were several entered at the show she told me, but looking in the catalog later, I found they were listed as Vlaamse Koehonds (Flemish Cattle Dogs).

Trying not to appear ignorant of their system, I made it clear that I knew FCI did not refer to the French Culinary Institute, but I merely enquired, in her opinion, what percentage of animals would qualify for the grading “excellent.” Her reply of 40% was a little surprising, as Stanley had briefly told me earlier, that if I wanted to judge there again, a 30% figure would be quite appropriate.

Undeterred, I approached the show the next morning full of naïve confidence, as I would only be judging six traditional British herding breeds of which I was fully familiar. The venue, a convention center, was quite large and very modern. My first problem on arriving at my ring was to discover that none of the three ring stewards allotted to me spoke adequate English, despite the fact that nearly everyone in Belgium does speak English. It appeared that this could be some cruel joke – or maybe they thought because of my sophisticated demeanor, that I was fluent in many languages.

They finally found a young gentleman, who spoke perfect English, but unfortunately it was one of his first shows, and he was only involved in Obedience. They did kidnap another lady from the German Shepherd ring to help with my critique, but she was unwilling to take dictation, as she wanted to watch German Shepherds in the next ring. I therefore had to scribble my critique notes in the judge’s book, and she translated them whilst I was judging the next class – of course, I never found out what she wrote – and even I couldn’t read what I wrote!

The first class was a class of ten Rough Collies; although I had problems getting them to face away from the bells and whistles of the ringside’s double handling, I managed to grade them appropriately. I quickly came to the conclusion that I could only award two “excellents.” I swiftly did the math and realized I was only batting 20%. No more shows in Belgium for me!

Oddly, the entry of 43 Rough Collies was the largest in the show. After the first class I saw the treasurer observing me from the ringside, and so I called her into the ring, and asked her how I was doing. She said I was different, but the ringsiders liked my procedure. Buoyed with success, I only had a couple of smaller problems with the system, but the nice young lady treasurer was again very helpful. Imagine my surprise when she appeared in the last class with the best Collie.

I settled into an easy pattern for the rest of the breeds, and think I came up with a better average of maybe 30%. The last breed was Old English Sheepdogs. I had difficulty in deciding between a nice young specimen and a more mature exhibit. I knew I had plenty of time, it was 3:00 P.M. and the groups didn’t start until 4:00 P.M. It never occurred to me why all the other rings were empty but, of course, I had the largest entry in the show, and I was going to take my time. I overheard my wife ask someone at ringside, “Why is he taking so long?” The answer came from the unmistakable cultured BBC voice of Stanley Dangerfield, “I think he’s waiting for one to mature.” It gave me the required motivation to point, and a valuable lesson for the future.

After completing my assignment, I discovered why they wanted empty rings; they were putting on a large obedience demonstration which took over the whole hall. I heaved a sigh of relief, and joined the other judges at a table at the end of the building.

As a reward I knocked back a couple of drinks, and as the obedience demonstration came to a close I was about to order another drink, when the show chairman made a stunning announcement, “Mr. BAY-NEZ your grupp iss ready.” “What group is that?” I uttered, “Grupp Number Vun,” was the answer. I could see a ring full of what appeared to be Herding breeds, but there were still some in there that I did not recognize as being purebred. I finally thought I had better finally refer to my mentor for guidance, “How do I do this?” I will never forget Stanley’s helpful word of advice, “FAST!”

I tackled the group with false bravado and style, and it was only at the end that I encountered some difficulty; the handler of the Briard, I indicated for first, ambled into the last spot. I then realized, but of course, they could place them in reverse order in FCI shows. I couldn’t change my tactics and so I had to unceremoniously drag the handler (another who didn’t understand English) into first place.

Fortunately I was not the only eccentric group judge. A one-legged German judge sat down just inside the ring entrance and examined all the dogs as they came in the ring. After that he propelled himself around the ring on crutches, giving directions for movement with one of his crutches. I’ll swear he used the crutch on the side where he was deficient in the leg department. We were all in awe and thought he was sure to fall over . . . which he didn’t.

Another group judge only pulled out six for final assessment, meaning that one would have to walk out of the ring alone. I suppose not too disastrous, except that he made a big confusing performance out of deciding between first place and the loser. It became a tragic mistake when it was learned that the dejected exhibitor, who grimly walked out alone with his dog, was the President of the club.

My choice of the Briard got approval from most of the other judges, and I felt that he might stand a chance of going Best in Show under Stanley Dangerfield. Unfortunately in the Best in Show ring he fell in love with a Pekingese (the Briard not Stanley) and ruined his chances by not behaving. A very nice Clumber Spaniel of Frastan breeding went Best in Show, by coincidence a relative of one that I had previously been “Specialing” in the United States.

We stayed in the hotel after the show in order to attend another feast. If you’re wondering what happened to the treasurer’s Collie – I only placed her fourth in the Group – I’m sure she was disappointed, but I still got paid.

We did some shopping on the way back to Merrie Olde England, and arrived back at the Dangerfield’s home in plenty of time to get ready for the show at Windsor, where I am sure the Queen was waiting expectantly, in the castle, for my arrival. Or maybe she was waiting for Tom Bradley who was also on the panel?

Things went much smoother for my three day judging stint at Windsor; with over 500 entries I was kept busy, but I had the best of British stewards, icons in the show community, including Angela Cavill and Tom Horner. My Best Puppy in Show was the Miniature Poodle, Tiopepi Lightning, owner-handled by Claire Coxall. Mrs. Coxall is the lady who judged Best in Show at Crufts this year. I would like to think that if I had been in the Best in Show lineup at Crufts this year; Claire would no doubt have repaid me with the top award.

Did the 30% excellent rating get me an invitation to perform in Belgium again? Yes, but they would only pay my expenses from England. Ah, the misfortune of living in America, but I’m happier here, where my British colleagues can refer to me as a lucky innocent abroad.

Peter Baynes

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Peter Baynes immigrated to this country from England in 1967 to become a professional handler, and proudly served in that capacity for 30 years. He now judges several breeds in three groups.