It's a dog-beat-dog world

Well-trained pets compete for glory

Flame, a precision-drilled border collie, nearly pulled off one of the rarest feats in dogdom Sunday at the N.C. State Fairgrounds.

We're talking a perfect score for obedience, as defined by the American Kennel Club, whose weeklong dog show featured thousands of canines.

But perfection in form eluded the 5-year-old purebred pooch from Efland by mere inches. Flame sat instantly at her owner's hand signal, precisely as commanded, but she sat just a little too crookedly for the judge's taste. With a score of 198 1/2 in advanced obedience, Flame walked away a winner but not a 200-point superdog.

"I've been judging 26 years, and I've given three 200s," said event judge Jim Ham, taking a break during the dog show in Raleigh. "I mean, you know, a 200 is supposed to be perfect. It's a special moment."

About 1,500 dedicated owners put their purebreds through their paces Sunday on the sixth and final day of an American Kennel Club all-breed dog show, obedience trial and rally trial. The obedience trial is considered the ultimate challenge for a dog, requiring a high-octane specialty diet for alertness and at least one year of rigorous training.

The tasks are all silently commanded by hand signals, the human semaphores that become a trained dog's sign language. Commands include directed jumping over hurdles, retrieving the one glove indicated out of three, and recognizing the owner's scent on one of nine items laid out on the floor.

For the dogs, it's all about getting that treat for a job well done. For the owners, those tense two minutes in the ring can represent an investment of thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours in the eternal quest for the Platonic Ideal of canines: an unblemished genetic pedigree, an impeccable appearance and an unimpeachable performance in public.

"This particular thing -- obedience -- is about precision, and it's about the relationship between the handler and the dog," said Flame's owner, Marion Crain, whose day job is teaching law at UNC-Chapel Hill. "I can tell what the dog is thinking, and she can tell what I'm thinking before the thought manifests itself. It looks like telepathy."

A little disobedience is tolerated in a dog, but it is scorned in a human. In the conservative tradition of the American Kennel Club, dog owners who violate rules at dog shows are subject to mini-trials and slapped with fines.

Cindy Stansell of the Fayetteville Kennel Club remembers a dog show in November when a dog owner failed to scoop up his dog's droppings. A trial was convened, witnesses examined, a guilty judgment rendered and a fine imposed. People are still talking about it.

"We're supposed to be the sport of ladies and gentlemen," Stansell said.

Under pressure

The six dog shows last week at the fairgrounds were sponsored by different local clubs. For the Sunday show, the Fayetteville club flew in 20 judges from as far away as Alaska.

Many competitors in the advanced obedience trial failed to score the requisite 170 points to qualify. Out of courtesy, a score below 170 is not tabulated.

Dolores Densten's Yorkshire terrier was spared the humiliation of a subpar score. Among Jimmie's gaffes: When he was supposed to drop on his belly and then sit up, the 4-year-old terrier simply sat down.

Densten, who lives in Virginia, said little Jimmie choked under pressure.

She spent more than $300 this week entering two dogs in competitions and the terrier in the obedience trial. Plus, she and her husband spent about $400 on diesel fuel for her camper to make the trip to North Carolina.

"For two minutes in the ring, it seems like an awful lot of money," she said. "It's almost like going to a horse show."