It only seems like yesterday that I was setting off for my first overseas

assignment which was in Norway. Some of the UK all-rounder judges - of which

there were several on the panel - had overdrawn and the legendary Joe Braddon

had kindly suggested that I might be ready for my first overseas trip. You can

imagine the excitement I felt at the time and I enjoyed the experience enormously.

Like any judge unfamiliar with the system of critiquing and grading every single

exhibit brought to them, that challenge was daunting in itself and I was extremely

grateful to Finland’s “godfather”, Hans Lehtinen, who helped me enormously when I

was trying to fathom out for myself what level of quality was necessary to grade a

dog Excellent, and what would relegate a dog to the Very Good category. In simple

terms Hasse just told me to look at a dog and ask myself if I would rather never ever

see the dog again (in which case give it a Very Good or worse), or could I imagine

being in a position where the dog could be useful in making the final awards, in

which case “Give it an Excellent so you don’t lose it”.

Apart from the thrill of seeing a whole new set of dogs and putting what

knowledge I had to the test, one of the most rewarding aspects of that first trip was

the opportunity to mingle with long established judges, some of them hitherto just

famous names to me at that point. The chance to socialise with such people, both at

the ringside when the groups were being judged and at the dinner afterwards,

presented a marvellous opportunity to talk about individual dogs and breeds, as most

of these judges were of the generation that were happy to pass on their knowledge if

they felt someone was genuinely interested. The discussions on breed and type

were long and detailed and tended to go on well past a respectable bed time. For me

that, and subsequent Scandinavian trips that followed, was like being a kid in a

candy store.

Invariably the panels in those days included several iconic figures from

various countries and I will always be grateful to those who spared time for a star-

struck twenty-something whose questions never ceased.

Now, some fifty years on it has become hard to get used to the fact that I am

no longer the new kid on the block and the youngest on the panel, as was so often

the case in those days. Today it can be sobering to discover that, at the ripe old age

of seventy-four, I am sometimes actually the elder statesman!

I am indeed fortunate that this wonderful sport of ours has taken me all

around the world and there are not many countries I would like to visit that I haven’t,

thanks to my love of purebred dogs. Every trip I make brings new experiences and

invariably new friendships and it is always fascinating to hear different opinions on

breeds. So often deep discussion can reveal differing priorities when interpreting a

breed and can frequently result in our asking ourselves whether or not some of our

preconceptions need re-evaluating.

Thankfully some of those iconic figures are still with us but far too many have

sadly been taken from us, robbing the sport of their knowledge and their charismatic

presence. Nothing stays the same and naturally the old guard needs to be replaced

by a new generation; but gone are the days when judging assignments were offered

essentially to those old stockmen who had experience and a natural “eye” as now

everything revolves around “qualifications”.

Discussing the various countries’ methods of educating their dog judges

would call for a very lengthy article. Some systems are extremely demanding, others

appearing to be absurdly relaxed and open to criticism. Each individual country

needs to tailor judges to meet its own needs. Whether an “all breeds” licence in

Timbuktu is sufficient armour for someone to judge any breed in the UK, USA,

Scandinavia, Japan or Australia is another matter.

What has occurred to me more and more in recent years as I travel around is

how the judges have changed. It would be dangerous to generalise and only a fool

would claim that all the judges from one country are brilliant and those from another

mediocre. In truth there are to be found excellent judges in most of the countries

where the dog sport is established; they may not be plentiful but they are there to be

found.

My major concern is the mindset of so many of the younger judges I meet

these days, particularly in Europe, where in some countries judging licences are …

let’s be charitable … somewhat easier to come by than in many of the “old”

countries. It is often apparent that the attitude of some of the newer ones is not such

that it indicates a thirst for knowledge, but rather a complacency that suggests they

know all there is to know already.

This really struck home with me at a show in Scandinavia where there were a

handful of senior judges who in my estimation are purely world class, people of

substance with years of experience behind them and matching reputations. Some of

the younger ones did not even bother to stay to watch group judging unless they

themselves were getting their time in the spotlight … the hotel bar was obviously

infinitely more attractive. Those who did stay on were not seeking out the company

of the icons on the panel to discuss the dogs they saw in front of them and learn

from the masters; instead they were keener to spend time with their peers who were

also involved in running shows and consequently issuing invitations. The calling

cards were flying around like confetti and, with my gift of being able to eavesdrop

quite efficiently, the words “but next year I’ll be getting Group X, Y and Z” seemed to

echo around all too frequently.

Conversation at dinner proves so often to be equally disarming. Few seem

keen to discuss the group placings of the day, arguing in a friendly manner whether

the shoulder placement on one dog should have allowed another to beat it. The

topics of conversation seem these days to centre around the quality of

accommodation, the generosity of the hosts and how much money can be made in a

weekend. It saddens me to hear dog judges speaking in such a mercenary way, and

when countries pay their national judges so much per dog and expect them to judge

– and critique – 200 dogs or more it beggars belief. Furtherance of our breeds

seems to be rather low down on the list of priorities.

Not that long ago I listened at breakfast time to one young judge announcing

proudly that 250 dogs with critiques was no problem for him. I would have been

interested to read some of those critiques, that’s for sure. In some of the former

eastern bloc countries it would appear that certain youngsters actually see judging

dogs internationally as a way of earning a living. In some countries salaries are still

so low that it is possible to make more out of a weekend of dog shows than it is to

work at an average job for a week. Little wonder that the all-breeds licence is so

sought after.

Sadly I hear less and less about the actual dogs and more and more about

reciprocal assignments, hotels and judging fees.

Those of us who take the role of dog judge seriously never stop learning and

never cease to question. Still if there is a judge on the panel who comes from one of

our lesser breeds’ country of origin I cannot wait to get their take on the breed and

their interpretation of the Standard. This can be far more valuable than reading any

book. Just ten minutes with someone from a breed’s homeland as to the “must

haves” in a breed can be priceless.

Symptomatic of the times is a conversation I recall a few years back when I

had listened to some young eastern European pontificating to such an extent that I

could hold my tongue no longer. I pointed out that, despite his endless recall of

shows he had judged and places he had visited, I had never actually heard him

mention dogs.

I then continued “Tell me, have you ever visited Crufts or Westminster, just to

watch?”

The reply was instant, “Why would I want to go to those shows unless they

asked me to judge?” I suggested that he didn’t hold his breath.

© ANDREW H. BRACE

(This article may not be reproduced in any form without the author’s

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