Limited registrations

 

By Susan Jeffries


Amid all the obvious reasons for the decline in conformation dog show entries, such as spiraling travel costs, increased entry fees, and heavier loads on club budgets, there may be another underlying cause for the downturn, and it could have long-range damaging effects on the future of our sport. While we will somehow adjust to the increased costs of showing our dogs, just as we always have, we may not be able to recover from the absence of new blood created by the popular practice of breeders selling puppies on a "limited registration" basis. This could impact the future of breed competition and, worse yet, compromise the quality of pet puppies available to the public.

Since the American Kennel Club began offering breeders the option of "limited registration" in 1989, it has become, for many, a routine method of selling puppies. While the AKC doesn't maintain records on the number of "limited" versus "regular" registrations, many breeders live and die by the concept. Virtually every puppy that leaves as a pet is sold with limited registration privileges. This gives the buyer the opportunity to register the puppy with the AKC, but no offspring can ever be registered. In effect, this discourages a new owner from breeding, and most puppies sold on a limited registration basis are, indeed, contractually spayed or neutered by a certain age.

The exclusion of these dogs from the gene pools of nearly every breed leaves a wider chasm between well-bred dogs from responsible breeders and poorly-bred dogs produced by profit mongers. So we've left ourselves vulnerable to people breeding just for the buck to help supply the demand for puppies. When this happens, dogs with questionable temperament and health abnormalities (often undiagnosed) become a larger part of the gene pool, resulting in poorly-bred puppies. This could even be part of the reason "designer dogs" have become so available. Good dogs are rarely used for crossbreeding. It's the poorly-bred specimens with questionable genetic traits that are most often parents of the designer dogs, bred, of course, purely for profit.

For a lot of reputable breeders, the limited registration option is the answer to a prayer. Gone are the days when breeders had valid reason to worry about one of their puppies eventually falling into the wrong hands. We heard horror stories about puppies sold outright with full breeding rights to a "pet" home ending up in a backyard breeder's collage of poor-quality breeding animals or, even worse, being resold to one of the commercial puppy mills around the country. AKC "papers" are a good selling tool for unscrupulous breeders, and when a well-known kennel name is incorporated into an otherwise mediocre pedigree, the profit margin goes way up. There was little recourse for the original breeder other than maintaining ties on every puppy with a co-ownership agreement.

Now, in many ways, breeders using the limited registration option are fulfilling the demand for good pet puppies to a small portion of the pet-buying public. Some buyers who are smart enough to seek out a responsible, reputable breeder will gladly pay the price and abide by the restrictions of limited registration. These buyers will invariably say they want "just a pet," and are more than happy to set up an appointment quickly for spaying or neutering.

On the surface, selling puppies with limited registration privileges might seem to be a good way of doing business. The show breeder disposes of puppies that may not be "show quality," which in many cases includes males, regardless of quality. The new owner agrees to spay or neuter the animal, which is certainly "politically correct" in this day of heightened concern over pet overpopulation. And that lucky puppy lands in a wonderful home with loving "parents" who did their homework or just happened to know the right people.

What's wrong with this picture? The breeder is protected, the buyer is happy, and the puppy has a good home. Well, unfortunately, limited registration also restricts the new owner's opportunity to show in breed competition. That new owner may be a perfect candidate for introduction into this great sport. He or she just doesn't know it!

Proponents of the practice are quick to point out that limited registration can be reversed. Yes, but how many breeders do it? And at what time? A couple of years ago, I saw a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog win Best in Show at Lexington, Kentucky. He had been sold as a puppy on a limited registration basis. Fortunately, he was "discovered" before he was neutered, and the owner advised the breeder, who agreed to reverse the registration. This dog won a couple of national specialties and several best-in-show rosettes.

What if you had never been "introduced" into the world of show dogs? Think back to when you bought your first dog. Did you intend to show? Did it ever occur to you that you'd become enmeshed in this dog show game? Did you ever envision yourself a breeder? Or an exhibitor? Or even a judge? Of course not!

Very few of us started out intending to show. Most of us were just like so many buyers today who say, "I only want a pet." But someone encouraged you to get involved. Somebody may have invited you to a dog show. Someone could have looked at your dog and suggested it might be good enough to show.

You may have been enrolled in an obedience class, as I was. My husband and I got our first German Shepherd Dog, Jackie, in 1964, and we enrolled her in a class with Clint Harris of Louisville. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, and I worked very hard with Jackie to graduate at the top of our class. Harris was intimidating, but he was my inspiration. He must have mentioned some local shows, because we visited the Louisville Kennel Club's all-breed show and decided we'd like to try being a part of the dog scene. That led to buying a "show quality" Shepherd, and we were on our way. The breeder helped us show her in a match, and I won my first ribbon. That's all it took.

A whole new world opened up for us as we traveled around to matches and shows, met a lot of new friends, got involved in the local breed club and training club, and eventually branched out into other breeds. In 1970, I was invited to take over the dog news column on the sports pages of the Courier-Journal in Louisville, and I became the "dog writer" for 22 years until we moved to Oklahoma.

Harris became one of the premiere handlers in the country, showing the famed English Springer Spaniel, Ch. Chinoe's Adamant James, to No. 1 dog in the country and Westminster Kennel Club winner twice in the early 1970s. Harris is now a veteran all-breed judge. A couple of months ago, after more than 40 years, I found myself in his ring, showing a Silky Terrier. He was substituting for a judge who became ill. Harris and I teased each other about the old times as we both moved rather slowly around the ring. His feet were hurting, and I had trouble keeping up with my 9-pound Silky.

On a trip to dog shows in Northern Indiana in early March, a friend and I brought a wonderful 8-month-old male puppy from a well-known breeder back to Louisville to his new owner. A late-winter snow storm in Southern Indiana prevented the buyer from making the trip. This magnificent puppy in full coat was an absolute delight as he sat on my lap during the entire trip. He wanted no part of his crate, and he was pretty vocal about it. True, he may not have been a great show dog, although he was as sound as a dollar and bubbled with personality. And true, the new owner probably wanted "just a pet." We met the owner when we arrived in Louisville and handed the beautiful puppy over, wishing her well. She and her family obviously had the means to show him, and I thought how sad that he would be neutered and never enter the ring. Sadder still, his owner would never experience the joy and satisfaction of seeing the love of her life in the ring and, just maybe, with some encouragement, becoming part of our sport. A week or so later, I saw the new owner and her family at the Louisville dog show. These people would be wonderful additions to our world of dogs, I thought, but their dog could not be shown. Who are the losers? All of us, I think.

I'm not saying that showing is for everyone. We've all known people who have jumped into the ring but somehow forgot to enjoy the competition, becoming angry and petty. Sometimes those people hang around, making themselves and everyone around them miserable. Other times, they burn themselves out. We've seen people who don't understand what it takes to be successful. They miss the camaraderie of the dog community, only to become disillusioned and throw in the towel. We've all known people, perhaps ourselves, who have experienced the depths of heartbreak over the tragic loss of a beloved animal. This is all part of the game, of course, and the price of love and passion.

But the rewards of growing in this sport are priceless. We establish lasting relationships with people from all walks of life who love dogs as much as we do, and we might never have known these people otherwise. We use our creative juices to breed better dogs. We travel as little or as far as we can afford to show the fruits of our labors. And we share with our families and friends a passion that transcends our everyday lives. These are memories that will remain forever with us.

So the next time you transfer a puppy over to its new owner and check the "limited registration" area, think about what you're doing. Are you protecting yourself and the puppy, or are you squelching any future hopes for that puppy and the new owner in the sport? We should be mentoring and encouraging new owners to enjoy the world of breed competition. Have you encouraged someone to show lately?