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Ahhh, a short nap, some finger limbering exercises and I'm good to go.

Hey, did you all know @Blooie and I are cyber-aunties? We were in the waiting room waiting on @Cynthia12's new grandson to be born. Got to be the first ones on BYC to see him. Here's our newest honorary BYC member:Post #17120 of 17158. Wanted to give all you who know Cynthia a chance to say congrats to grandma. Well, that and brag a bit about being a cyber-auntie :lol:
 
drumstick diva said:
Wow I never knew you showed dogs Blooie, what a small world. And what a BIG dog you have now.
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Yep, I was the proud owner of AKC, SKC CH. Norwynd’s Rueben James, CD. We (RJ and I) were working on his CDX. He’d been filmed by the producers of the old Babe Winkleman hunting TV show for his unusual skills as a pointing retriever, and when RJ and I showed up at the Pointing Retriever’s trial I was the only woman there, with the only breed other than lab, the only show and obedience champion, and they didn’t give us good odds. But we won 2 of the 4 events. Then came the final run. Yeah, that didn’t go so well. He quartered beautifully, responded to the whistles perfectly, but the pheasant they’d planted lost his “dizzy” and broke just as RJ caught the scent. He leaned into that shrub, that foot started to come up, and the pheasant broke, flying off with that distinctive cackle. That would have been counted as a “no fault” and we’d have been given another run, but Rueben decided, “Mom wants that bird and I’m gonna get it” and he was off after it, full tilt. He got it, too....leapt up as the bird came down, snagged it, and executed a perfect retrieve and release. Never even broke the skin on it. But since that had never happened before, the judges weren’t sure what to do so they simply DQ’d us.

It was as we walked back to the trucks that he executed a perfect point on a quail nest. That’s when the producers asked us to stay after the event and they filmed us. They thought it was hilarious that he’d point anything I told him to - a favorite demonstration of mine was for me to take off my shoe and toss it or hold it, then tell him “point it up.” When I’d get to him I’d just warn, “easy...eeeasy” and he’d cautiously put the pointing foot down, ease a little closer, and point again. If I said “step, step in,” he’d take a step for everytime I said it. Once I said “hold” that was it...you couldn’t knock him off that locked point. I have a newspaper clipping around here somewhere of him pointing my shoe. I’ll find it. I hate the photo - he had totally blown coat so he looks so scrawny. But how I loved that remarkable dog!

We lived out in the country right after Ken retired, and had plenty of space to work the dogs with lots of natural pheasant scent. We had a creek that bordered the property on 3 sides, and across that field was Mr. Hayes’ cornfield. He used to like to watch me hurl the retrieving dummy across the creek and watch the dogs retrieve. One day I was working Rueben and I heaved that dummy over. He waited next to me, quivering, until I said “hunt ‘em up” and he was off like a shot. He hit that creek - I swear he leaped into the middle and leaped out on the other side - and then he did something he’d never done before. He stopped in the middle of a retrieve. He just stood there. Then he was off again. He got the dummy, and again stopped at the edge of the creek. He waited a few seconds, then came running in to complete the retrieve beautifully. I took the dummy, praised him, he gave my hand a lick as always, then he totally collapsed. We rushed him to the vet, but he died on my lap. He’d had a stroke, which was the falter I’d seen across the creek. Then another, more massive one at my feet. But by golly he did that last job first. After that the heart went out of me. I can’t say I lost interest in dogs, but the competitive spark was gone when my partner’s spark went out. You know, I’ve liked all the other dogs we’ve had since, but I think the Good Lord gave me that one, unforgettable amazing dog in my lifetime, and none of the others have been able to fill the hole that Rueben left. We had the remaining 5 Flatties in our kennel spayed or neutered and sold them to loving pet homes. My show days were over. The owners were thrilled to have such highly trained, gentle dogs in their homes.

I could write a book on that dog (heck, just finished a whole chapter here, sorry). He was my “learn on dog”. One of his son’s, Thorin, won the “Bred By Exibitor” class at the National Specialty, but he was one of those we neutered and placed. I kind of regret that now. He had his Dad’s good looks and his Dad’s quirky personality, so I should have stuck it out and seen how far we could have gone.

Found the clipping. It was a huge story on my Flatcoats. The puppy in the second shot was owned by a neighbor and good friend. His show career was cut short - his owner said she couldn’t handle the stress. So with my permission, Mickey was neutered and lived out his life with a houseful of kids and going hunting with her husband every chance they got.

A7CE4F01-F01A-4831-8348-CE29B0D00720.jpeg
A2340C2F-918B-42A3-B809-30B286BEC087.jpeg
 
Blooie said:
Oh, I did speak up about the reasons in the Public Hearing for the license. Told Deenie I hated to see her throw good money after bad, when she could take that application money and at least buy aprons for the cooks and waitresses, and that if she’d clean it up and make it more inviting for customers she’d soon be as successful as an “only restaurant in town” should be. Many years ago, under the old ownership when Kenny was head cook there, they installed a bench outside because it was usually that packed with people waiting to get in. The bench is still there...the customers are not. Shortly after being denied her license, she closed up. There is someone else who is now getting ready to open, but it has taken him two years and tons of money to clean it up....one whole wall had to come out to get out the black mold from the pipes that Deenie’s husband “installed”. The grease traps that keep grease out of the town sewer system were all plugged so badly that the town had to dig out the street over them to get them out. Yeah. But I’m the bad guy. I’m a tree, I can bend. I think Vickie had invested her savings into her daughter’s dream, and it was easier to blame me and the council than her daughter.
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thats really a shame that people like that always blame someone else instead of the right person
 
Blooie said:
Yep, I was the proud owner of AKC, SKC CH. Norwynd’s Rueben James, CD. We (RJ and I) were working on his CDX. He’d been filmed by the producers of the old Babe Winkleman hunting TV show for his unusual skills as a pointing retriever, and when RJ and I showed up at the Pointing Retriever’s trial I was the only woman there, with the only breed other than lab, the only show and obedience champion, and they didn’t give us good odds. But we won 2 of the 4 events. Then came the final run. Yeah, that didn’t go so well. He quartered beautifully, responded to the whistles perfectly, but the pheasant they’d planted lost his “dizzy” and broke just as RJ caught the scent. He leaned into that shrub, that foot started to come up, and the pheasant broke, flying off with that distinctive cackle. That would have been counted as a “no fault” and we’d have been given another run, but Rueben decided, “Mom wants that bird and I’m gonna get it” and he was off after it, full tilt. He got it, too....leapt up as the bird came down, snagged it, and executed a perfect retrieve and release. Never even broke the skin on it. But since that had never happened before, the judges weren’t sure what to do so they simply DQ’d us.

It was as we walked back to the trucks that he executed a perfect point on a quail nest. That’s when the producers asked us to stay after the event and they filmed us. They thought it was hilarious that he’d point anything I told him to - a favorite demonstration of mine was for me to take off my shoe and toss it or hold it, then tell him “point it up.” When I’d get to him I’d just warn, “easy...eeeasy” and he’d cautiously put the pointing foot down, ease a little closer, and point again. If I said “step, step in,” he’d take a step for everytime I said it. Once I said “hold” that was it...you couldn’t knock him off that locked point. I have a newspaper clipping around here somewhere of him pointing my shoe. I’ll find it. I hate the photo - he had totally blown coat so he looks so scrawny. But how I loved that remarkable dog!

We lived out in the country right after Ken retired, and had plenty of space to work the dogs with lots of natural pheasant scent. We had a creek that bordered the property on 3 sides, and across that field was Mr. Hayes’ cornfield. He used to like to watch me hurl the retrieving dummy across the creek and watch the dogs retrieve. One day I was working Rueben and I heaved that dummy over. He waited next to me, quivering, until I said “hunt ‘em up” and he was off like a shot. He hit that creek - I swear he leaped into the middle and leaped out on the other side - and then he did something he’d never done before. He stopped in the middle of a retrieve. He just stood there. Then he was off again. He got the dummy, and again stopped at the edge of the creek. He waited a few seconds, then came running in to complete the retrieve beautifully. I took the dummy, praised him, he gave my hand a lick as always, then he totally collapsed. We rushed him to the vet, but he died on my lap. He’d had a stroke, which was the falter I’d seen across the creek. Then another, more massive one at my feet. But by golly he did that last job first. After that the heart went out of me. I can’t say I lost interest in dogs, but the competitive spark was gone when my partner’s spark went out. You know, I’ve liked all the other dogs we’ve had since, but I think the Good Lord gave me that one, unforgettable amazing dog in my lifetime, and none of the others have been able to fill the hole that Rueben left. We had the remaining 5 Flatties in our kennel spayed or neutered and sold them to loving pet homes. My show days were over. The owners were thrilled to have such highly trained, gentle dogs in their homes.

I could write a book on that dog (heck, just finished a whole chapter here, sorry). He was my “learn on dog”. One of his son’s, Thorin, won the “Bred By Exibitor” class at the National Specialty, but he was one of those we neutered and placed. I kind of regret that now. He had his Dad’s good looks and his Dad’s quirky personality, so I should have stuck it out and seen how far we could have gone.



Found the clipping. It was a huge story on my Flatcoats. The puppy in the second shot was owned by a neighbor and good friend. His show career was cut short - his owner said she couldn’t handle the stress. So with my permission, Mickey was neutered and lived out his life with a houseful of kids and going hunting with her husband every chance they got.
that is so heart warming and heart breaking at the same time, makes me want to cry for him

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