Saturday, Oct. 20, 2018 was Ryan’s last rally competition.
He has officially retired from the show ring.
At 11.5 years old, he finished his Rally Excellent title in style — tail a-wagging in the ring, big smile on his face, winning his class and a toy and then enjoying a double cheeseburger for his special dinner.
He and Nancy Jennings marched through the first four levels of rally obedience like storm troopers — always in the ribbons, and 99 percent of the time walking out of the ring with a blue ribbon in hand.
They had a special relationship with each other; neither taking the other too seriously. It was delightful to watch as I stood hidden on the sidelines cheering them on and clapping loudly when they completed that last course.
Nancy had decided early on that although AKC had instituted the Master title, she’d like to see if they could rise as high as an Excellent title and stop there. Mostly because Ryan’s got some arthritis setting in on one of his shoulders and sometimes he’s not his happy-go-lucky self. Plus, although his hearing came back after a few months of it disappearing, it’s not what it used to be.
Ryan was good for Nancy and Nancy was perfect for Ryan. They learned from each other and had a great time training AND showing together.
For you see — although Ryan and I have trained together for all these years — he takes things a lot less seriously than I do. And, quite literally, he hated to show for me. In fact, he refused to show for me. The only time I ever made a total fool of myself in the rally ring and didn’t qualify was when I attempted to show him.
It was, shall we say, a total disaster.
Ryan and I have fun training together and we’re still doing that. There’s lots of cheese and praise and smiles. But when it comes to stepping into a competition ring, I am fierce. I admit it. I’m very competitive. And Ryan still wants to go out there and have fun. And Nancy always made it fun for him. She forgave him his shortcomings and never tried to tweak something that wasn’t perfect.
“Oh, that’s just Ryan,” she’d say, “It’s no big deal” and off they’d go to the next sign. Ryan smiling, tail a-waging.
That’s not the way I roll. Even practicing, I’d make him fix something I wasn’t happy with and when he grew tired of me doing this, he’d literally turn and walk away.
And, since he wasn’t on a leash, he could do that.
And no, I didn’t track him down and make him redo whatever it was. It made me stop and laugh.
I’ve always told everyone who trains or shows a dog: Love your dog as much when you enter the ring as you do when you exit it. No matter what happens in between.
And I adore Ryan. He’s the best pet anyone could ask for, and that’s the most important lesson of all.
As each day passes and I know there are fewer days ahead together than there are behind us, it’s a lesson I’ll never forget.
You’re the man. Happy retirement, Ryan.
