TAN and REP day.
The site for the TAN and REP were at some distance from the venue for the show and therefore some distance from our campsite. For some reason we never get sent 'joining instructions' or even simple information like a postcode or an address. In the days of GPS this would be handy and the old standby that has proved its worth for many years - a map would also solve the problem. The problem being many fold - firstly our satnav did not recognise the name of the village given to us and we had to refer to a map to help it out. The second was it in it's infinite wisdom decided to take us across country along roads that ran into gravel pit lakes. We were not alone in this.
Arrival at the venue and we along with all others tried to register, not a particular problem - but life would have been easier if the secretary's table had not been close to the door as was the coffee bar and anyone and everyone who wished to talk with each other.
We were entered in the TAN and the REP the natural aptitude test and the water retrieve). participants for the REP were asked to go to this venue first; and to leave the hall last. We did, even making sure we had some idea the colour of car being driven by the judge - so we had something to follow. Off went the cavalcade one quarter of an hour earlier than advertised - something that put pressure on those struggling with their navigation systems and relying on the almost historic late start of events. Off went the confident cavalcade turning this way and that coming to a stop in a small cul de sac, the wrong cul de sac requiring much reversing and turning to get out of. Half the party then turned one way and half the other. We turned wrongly and again had to do a U turn.
The REP pond was approached across an open field with a small horse and pony, a very friendly and inquisitive horse and pony - I am sure in teh UK we would have at least put up an electric fence to keep people and dogs at a safe distance. The pond had several duck swimming on it - well until the judge fired his pistol - which made them start and most of the onlookers as well. This was no namby pamby .22 but at least a 9mm loaded I suspect with black powder such was the cannon like effect - or maybe it was just that the judge to spare the dog's ears pointed it behind himself.
We were second to go, the duck were still circling with a view to landing again and those birds on the far bank were being most 'attractive'. The test was for the dog to be 'offlead' and to retrieve as the bird was thrown, which was after the cannon had spoken. Fresco was minded to get in teh water as soon as his lead was removed - but I think this was as much my body language - trying to get him to look forward as it was his innate desire to get wet. Straight in on command and a nice swim out. Nosed the duck and turned back. REcalled him to my side and sent him again, picked teh duck up by teh neck swam a few strokes and let go. REcalled and resent. Refused. Eliminated. Now i thought this was going to be a given. But on consideration whilst he has had various feathered game on land he has had nothing but canvas in the water; so I suspect a lack of training was the culprit in this case.
We watched quite a few of the others. A surprising number did not like the ducks. Some were eliminated for not swimming out, some for refusing. Some for throwing their dog in - in desperation I think. Congratulations to all those who did achieve the test, particular mention perhaps to Berry (Topaz's brother who is not known for his retrieving who swam out well beyond his obvious comfort zone to get the duck - only the second time in his life he has ever retrieved from water.
Returning to the village and off to the TAN fields. A single track approach road with cars parked on one side and locals wishing to use it in the other direction at the same time. We arrived and watched. To stop the dogs barking we had the boot open - much to the amazement of the onlookers.
We watched several runs - dogs with much speed and vigour, but no apparent sense of wind direction or any interest in their owner's wishes, they just wanted to get on with the job. The job in this case was to find a grey partridge loose in a stubble field. Whilst some TAN fields were dizzying their birds ours had the feathers on one wing clipped, making them fly short and weakly, several were pegged as we watched. One dog managed to work its way out of our field across another and across the next competitors ground, who in turn ran back across to ours to check ours out.
Fresco - when his go came worked really well for me, was very attentive and turned on his whistle like a dream, he found the bird and worked up along the foot scent straight to the flush, his performance was such that we were give the opportunity of another go, with immediately or after a break. I chose the break. His second run was not so nice to watch ( I thought) as he bore straight into the wind to where he had found the bird previously, which quite sensibly was not there so he had to hunt a bit. Again he winded it, worked up to it and flushed it, sat to flush and whistle nicely despite having a mouth full of feathers Rolling Eyes However we were eliminated for not pointing.
We were by then the last to run - I am disappointed I did not think of getting Topaz out so that Fiona his breeder who was standing with us could have seen how he works.
Saturday night is Gala Dinner night. A nice reception and a good chance to catch up with many and meet a few more. Dinner was a protracted affair, starting at about 9 with pudding served after midnight; I thought I was at a wedding reception. The meal spoiled for me by having a bread based component in every course and to add insult to injury the mineral water bottles were at the end of the evening just refilled with tap water that tasted of chlorine and polythene in about equal portions.
The advantage of having a tent nearby was manifest as we only had to stroll - or was that stagger a fw hundred yards to bed.
A long night - the raindrops that fell incessantly sounding just like the grain in the drier back home; so much so that in the morning I woke with a start, sat up in bed and shouted 'the drier's stopped' - much to my wifes amusement.
We had Catja entered in open Orange and White Female - a large class where we were graded 'excellent'. I thought we were in with a chance of a place but I think after two hours her interest and patience had worn thin. I noticed she was walking carefully over the grass - seemingly avoiding bits with little hops, something not conducive to a nice gait. Whilst waiting she strained at her lead to go and sit on the stone path rather than stay on the damp grass. The bitch that one went on to win CACS and then best bitch in show.
Fresco - was entered in 'jeunes' a class not competing for a title. Moved very nicely and was measured at 50, I was asked if I was happy with that, which I wasn't and when he was remeasured on a flatter bit of ground he was the 49 he usually comes out at. A nice enough critique but as he lack 'substance' at the moment meant he only received a Tres Bon. Whilst it is nice to get excellent I think this one will be a slow cooker, his father was.
Catja was part of the 'lot d'elevage' and the kennel 'vom Junkenhof' came a very creditable fourth beating some very renowned names - Kerenlouan amongst them. (meaning that the dogs displayed were of a much more homogeneous nature)
Waiting for judging to start
Fresco
Team'vom Junkenhof'
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