And now, back to our aspiring butterfly, Axel.

As I picture my large and overbearing Rottweiler boy fluttering around with delicate wings, I am thinking that perhaps I chose the wrong change metaphor for today’s musings. Perhaps I should have used the ugly duckling and the swan.

Axel has never been ugly, though. He did go through the typical gawky stage where he was all leg and no chest, but he has always had a beautiful head to reassure us that he would in fact grow up into a handsome, well-proportioned dog. Which he has.

As I’ve mentioned a few times, it’s rather quiet here because Axel is away. The goal is for him to finish his American championship before I run out of money.  I say this only half-jokingly as I remind myself of how quickly his father finished, and try not to think of other friends and acquaintances who have spent five- and six-figure sums to finish their dogs.

If you’re not familiar with AKC championships, of course AKC’s site can explain it better than I can. Short version: Axel has to earn 15 total points. Points for a given show are based on the number of dogs entered for the breed. Two of those shows need to have a large enough Rottweiler entry to be worth 3-5 points. He must show under at least three different judges. Best case scenario: three shows, three different judges, three 5-point majors. Very unlikely. Worst case scenario (other than not finishing at all): see above, 5- and 6-figure expenditures.

Right now Axel is still in training. He’s living with his handler and traveling to the shows with her, her dogs and her other client dogs to get accustomed to the atmosphere and activities that he’ll soon be in the thick of. At last report, he’s progressing well. He has had a few issues with accepting strangers and strange dogs, but he’s getting past it and will soon be ready to make his ring debut.

Unfortunately, I probably won’t be able to watch him in the ring. It’s actually not uncommon for a dog to show poorly if Mom or Dad is in the line of sight. Axel is definitely one of those dogs. When we tried some show training with a local handler, I couldn’t even be in the hall at training. Once I was out of sight, though, he’d settle down and get to work.

His first show will probably be at the very end of this month, and I hope to have good news to post. If not, I hope there is at least a good story!

On a related note, I’m sure many of you have seen the recent news about PETA urging USA Network not to air the Westminster Kennel Club show in February, much as they did with the BBC and Crufts in the UK.

I am all for animal welfare. Welfare, not rights. I am totally against animal rights terrorists like PETA. I have never personally been at an event where dogs were released or poisoned by animal rights terrorists, but I do worry about it someday affecting me up close and personal, given the high profile of groups like PETA these days.

I got to talk to Axel’s handler for a while this morning. Due to some technical difficulties, I don’t have any candid photos to share yet, but I did have an update on his show training (short version: things are progressing according to, or even a bit ahead of, schedule). That was going to be today’s topic.

Then I got an e-mail from Jake’s web page, and I think I’m going to change directions and talk about him instead. He’s been gone for over six years now, and I still miss him. Though I love Axel and Freya very much, Jake and Heidi were my “heart” dogs whose pawprints will never be completely filled.

Sometimes I find myself caught up in my plans for Axel’s future. Once he finishes his championship, he’ll come back home and then I would like to work on his obedience and Schutzhund titles. Since I am a really terrible dog trainer who gets ring nerves, or trial nerves, like you wouldn’t believe, that part is going to really take some doing.

But back to Jake. He was supposed to be my Schutzhund dog. His breeder was a Schutzhund trainer who competed at national and international levels. His sire was, at the time, the last surviving son of the great Dingo vom Schwaiger Wappen. He already had much of the foundation training when I got him. He was supposed to teach me about the sport. And he did.

But before we were ever able to compete, drastic change occurred. He was at his breeder’s for boarding, and he managed to get out of his kennel. He was most likely chasing a squirrel or rabbit when he ran out into the road and was hit by a car. Understand that it was truly an accident. I never blamed anyone for what happened, then or now.

His life was saved that day, but he suffered a career-ending injury. The nerves to his right front leg were torn and never regenerated. The leg had to be amputated a few weeks after the accident.

So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why…

Our original plans for Schutzhund fame were obviously not going to work out. While my major concern during that time was of course for Jake to have a full recovery from his injuries, it was impossible not to also think about how our… my… competition hopes were pretty much lying in ruins at that point. Yes, I guess it does sound shallow. But I had bought him specifically for the sport and hopefully competition, and paid what was then, to me, a lot of money for a dog. I had a lot of moments of “oh, crap, now what?”

It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time…

I mentioned that Jake was supposed to teach me about the sport. What he taught me after the amputation was much more important. Dogs live in the here and now. They don’t go “why me?” and dwell on what they can’t do. Watching him adapt to his disability was amazing and inspiring. His ability to enjoy life wasn’t diminished at all until very, very late in the game, when age and the limits of the flesh finally caught up with him.

More than a few people seemed surprised that I did not get another young dog to train and compete with. I won’t say that putting the sport before an individual dog is absolutely wrong, but I will say emphatically that it would have been so, so wrong for me.

Jake was not an extremely handsome Rottweiler. In fact, he was a textbook case of how a dog can have no disqualifying faults, but still not be sieger/championship material. He more than made up for his lack of conformational excellence with his working ability and his true Rottweiler heart and spirit.

He was always a bit vain, if you can imagine that, and he probably hated that I even took a picture of him so soon after his surgery. But it’s one of my favorite pictures of him because of the look in his eyes. Looking straight on, saying “I’m still standing.”

I got him as a young adult, and we were his third home (his first owner was a celebrity who shall remain unnamed for the moment, but that is a whole other long story). So we had quite a few things to work through as we forged a bond. Let’s just say that Jake did not take an immediate liking to me, and I wondered if nice jewelry would have been a better use of the money I spent on him. We got through it. As much as I’ve loved all of my Rottweilers, he is undoubtedly the one that was most devoted to me.

Throughout his life, and even now, I get email through his web page from people whose dogs are facing amputations. The really heartbreaking ones are the ones involving older dogs with bone cancer. Some are really wonderful, from people who have or are considering adopting a special needs dog, and want tips on how to keep a tripod dog active and comfortable.

I got one tonight, and that’s why we are talking about Jake instead of Axel.

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

Miss you, Jakey. It’s probably gonna be a while yet before I see you, so be good… okay, try and be good… until I get there.