By Ariel Woodruff

It started with a thank you note. Or perhaps, it started a little sooner; a visit to a school, a chance to share a passion, that evolved into something more. A long-term, mutually beneficial relationship, that enriched and continues to enrich not just the lives of two talented women, but indeed, the future of the breed they both love.

Mentorship and apprenticeship: the wellspring, the very lifeblood of our sport. Did Riley DeVos have any idea that the act of jotting a note of appreciation to Mary Fedders, for visiting her fifth grade class to discuss the sport of conformation would be that igniting spark which would go on to fuel a highly successful, and ever-promising career in dogs? Did Mary wonder, as she opened the door to Riley’s class, Cairn leash in hand, if she would meet a child as ardent about the breed as she?

Whatever they may have been thinking, that – can we really call it chance? - encounter led to a valuable partnership, one that speaks of all the best that can come from the mentorship system. Not just the successes – a first show dog, Ch. Paragon’s A Stately Affair, piloted to his championship, and a spectacular run as a special, a glowing junior showmanship performance, and the privilege of handling yet another special at the Garden – but the genuine warmth, affection, and respect with which these ladies refer to one another. Mary calls Riley a “kindred spirit,” and notes that she was “impressed with her intelligence, sincerity, and maturity” from moment one. Says Riley of Mary, “she’s one of my best friends. We’ve spent so much time together over the past few years, she’s definitely family to me. And how she’s believed in me since the very beginning…it still floors me. I really, really love her.”

When two such people come together, I cannot help but think that the breed they have chosen as their own is indeed very lucky to have them.

Riley and Mary’s relationship is truly exemplary. When I think upon them, I am reminded of those classic apprenticeships so beloved to our sport’s culture; David C. Merriam to Raymond Oppenheimer, Patricia Craige Trotter to Johnny Davis, and later, Katherine Ing to Patricia Craige Trotter. Hearing the stories recounted, reading the histories recorded, I harken back further still to fairytales: the industrious youth that works hard under a wise, charmed master; under their combined efforts, he (or she) rises victorious, becoming a shining prince, the belle of the ball, the top handler at Westminster, the hero of Morris and Essex.

Are such stories very common anymore in our sport? Were they ever as common as I imagine them to be, or are the ones I know lent a golden glow as much from their rarity as their familiarity? Truly, I am curious.

I confess myself to be concerned, now and then, about how we do – or fail to – welcome “newbies” into our sport. I believe, as many other folks do, that to succeed in the sport of conformation, finding a mentor is imperative. It is the advice that I give to anyone that expresses interest in breeding and showing dogs. Yet I sometimes wonder if this answer isn’t a little pat? “Find a mentor.” Yes, but how? Is it always simple as that?

Going to a dog show to speak with and interview potential mentors is not bad advice, per se, but does anyone else cringe inwardly just a little, as I do, when the next words out of our mouths are a stream of “don’ts,” of times when it would be beyond terrible and inconvenient to approach and ask questions, of reasons and rationales for why an exhibitor might be snappish or short, of specific ways to approach an individual, and of course, to not approach. Given this list of dictums, I picture the would-be apprentice as a fedora-ed, be-whipped adventurer, the show grounds as a hidden temple: one misstep, one misread, one misinterpretation, and WHOOSH, the floor goes out from under him!

Here I must say that I unequivocally understand the pressures inherent on the show grounds, and the reasons for supplying the show-going public with an idea for how to behave on the grounds. Exhibitors – some of which are making their livelihoods at shows - are paying good money to have the judge evaluate their dogs, an exorbitant amount of money on gas to even get to the show, and with only three-or-so minutes of the judge’s undivided attention available, it behooves them to make as much of the time they have available to them prior to ring time. Naturally, this is not always going to be spent in hobnobbing with particularly interested spectators.

Nor do I think it acceptable for those particularly interested spectators to arrive at a show without any idea as to acceptable show decorum. One should always familiarize oneself with the etiquette specific and appropriate to the event one is attending. It is not only the polite thing to do, but the intelligent thing to do.

However, for the purposes of our discussion here, I am examining the type of behavior that we ourselves, as ambassadors of our sport, can control. Dog showing is not necessarily an easy sport to break into, a fact that I think we are grudgingly aware of, given our copious suggestions for attendee behavior. Yet an individual is only in charge of her own behavior – why not make it the best, and the most welcoming that it can be? I will never forget the day, as a freshman in college, that I approached a breeder whose dogs I had long admired from afar. I politely enquired when a good time would be to speak with her about her program. Flashing me the most warm and brilliant smile, she told me she would be only too glad to speak with me right after her ring time, and true to her word, she did – inviting me back to her setup and handing me the lead to one of her dogs. I was blown away. I could hardly believe it when she invited me to attend another show with her – I accepted! - and took my sister and I out to breakfast to meet her friends in the breed.

In contrast, I still feel a little heavy-hearted about the time I inquired after another breed, and after three unsuccessful attempts to get the handler’s attention, attained it for only long enough to wordlessly receive a card, and then a quite pointedly turned back. I got it. It was not a good time. I would just have easily understood if I had been told that a specific time would be preferable, or at least in words, that a phone call or email were more convenient. Nevertheless, to this day, I often find myself rationalizing – maybe it was a very stressful day? Maybe the handler was very shy? Maybe I looked younger than I was? Maybe it was simply too loud in the grooming area? Yet I still have not made the call – would someone even more green than I? Just as breeders, owners, and handlers like to feel that their time is valued so, too, do potential breeders, owners, and handlers.

Ideally, the search for a mentor would be over, following the acquisition of a puppy. This is not always the case, for a plethora of reasons. Distance is often one of them. That new show prospect may come from miles, states, even countries away. Given, again, the price of travel being what it is, even a mere matter of hours distance may be rendered prohibitive for the newbie looking for consistent hands-on assistance. Furthermore, not every breeder wants or is able to be a mentor. It is a calling that takes a considerable amount of patience, understanding, devotion, and time. It is not for everyone, even as becoming a mentee is not for everyone.

Thus I find myself thinking about ways in which we could put potential exhibitors in touch with resources that might help them to succeed and flourish in our sport. Inspired by a recent show I attended which offered, according to the catalogue, “ringside mentorship” in specific breeds – what an exciting idea – I wondered, “what about a ‘mentor referral’ system offered on our national breed club websites, much like the breeder referrals we already have?” Put passionate breeders, eager to share their expertise, together with those equally eager to learn. What about “novice showmanship” classes offered for inexperienced handlers that never had the chance to participate in Junior Showmanship? Junior Showmanship puts youths in touch with like-minded individuals, and in the eye of established breeders, owners, and handlers that may take an interest in their education. There are adults and young adults too old for junior showmanship that are every bit as interested in getting their start in the fancy, and would certainly benefit from a similar exposure. While handling classes and seminars do exist for the adult novice, I think there is something more to be offered by the “showmanship” situation – where else can one compete and be graded on one’s style of presentation?

How do we, as a community, work to welcome new blood to our sport? I think it’s a question that is worthy of some thought. In answering it, I hope we consider how it is that we best serve the future of the sport, and of our breeds.