My experience as a Junior handler was the focal point of my life for nine years, and it was one of the most influential and rich journeys I’ve had in these twenty years. I vividly remember the first time I took my green Norwich Terrier, Diesel, into the ring as a Novice Junior in September of 2010. I was ten years old, Diesel was seven months old, and I had just completed a summer of intense training and building a strong bond with Diesel. With the determination of a seasoned handler and yet the skills of an amateur, I marched into the ring with my lead far too long and my little terrier’s nose glued to the ground in hopes of finding a morsel of hot dog. I struggled for what felt like eternity to lift Diesel’s nose up off the ground, properly stack him on that very high table, and keep him moving while we gaited around the ring. In those five minutes, I’d confronted anxiety, doubt, and a bit of frustration, but I’d maintained my composure and presented my little dog to the very best of my ability. I was awarded first place for my efforts and “because I’d worked the hardest”. Little did I know that this one short phrase would carry me through the next decade as both a handler and a student. The pride I felt in my slightly oversized searsucker suit and glossy Mary Jane’s as I stacked Diesel for our first win photo was a defining moment for me, and it led to a passion unparalleled in my life up until that point.
The beauty of Junior Showmanship is that you can make your experience entirely your own, and the resulting memories have almost nothing to do with the wins and nearly everything to do with that intoxicating feeling of partnership and accomplishment with your dog. My Diesel has been my best friend from day one, and nearly eleven years later, I have the fondest memories of our career together. Juniors does not end when you turn eighteen; Juniors is a lifelong commitment to your breed, to the AKC, to mentoring the next generation of young handlers, and to building a life which stays connected to the ideals of continuing and celebrating the health, purpose, companionship, and beauty we find in our dogs. For me, Juniors is about walking with my dogs and knowing that they are there for me just as much as I am there for them. Juniors is about evoking memories of many lessons and grooming mistakes as I now skillfully strip the coat of my nearly eleven-year-old Norwich. Juniors is about working towards a goal, a qualification, a placement, or even a feeling of accomplishment every day, whether you’re competing in the ring or training and conditioning at home. Juniors is about supporting one another, finding patience in moments of struggle, and always picking yourself up after a fall.
Juniors paved the way for more opportunities and relationships in the canine community, and it gave me a voice which I could use to share this incredible sport and to raise awareness for projects and causes that I hold close to my heart. In 2013, I met Linda Blick, Co-Chair and Founding Board Member of the Tails of Hope Foundation, and so began my immensely rewarding work as a Youth Ambassador for the foundation. At the time, aside from being a Junior handler, I had just trained Diesel to be a therapy dog, and he had recently received his CGC and Advanced CGC title, becoming the first Norwich in the country to receive this honor. This gave me two different, but equally important roles in the AKC. In 2013, I spoke on Radio
Disney about my career as a junior handler and the road to an Advanced Canine Good Citizen title with Diesel. This was an incredible opportunity to raise awareness for the sport and purebred dog fancy, and encourage young people to become involved. Later that year I presented at the Macy’s “Back to School” Fashion Show, and introduced Diesel’s story to the public. Soon after the fashion show I spoke on radio show 95.5 WPLJ to explain the Youth Ambassador Program (YAP) within the Tails of Hope Foundation and how it serves to empower youth in understanding and supporting working dogs, both through fundraising projects and leadership.
Since then I have presented at multiple schools, including Dutchess Day School in Millbrook, New York and the Jumoke Academy in Hartford, Connecticut. These presentations have largely revolved around how purebred dogs work as military service dogs, overseas and in our own communities, and as therapy dogs, which is where I have personal experience in the field of working dogs. I was honored to speak on a panel at The White House Conference Center, in the company of the Senior Advisor of the Department of Homeland Security and National Security Council representatives, about YAP’s educational plan and my work as a therapy dog handler. I am now a mentor to many of the younger ambassadors entering the program, as I support their unique endeavors and interests in purebred working dogs.
Although I am now a college student, and I am working towards a career in veterinary medicine, my Juniors career continues to be a driving force in my experiences and goals for the future.
Being a Junior was hard work, not unlike my long days and hours of work at school and on weekends, but those years were also some of the most rewarding years of my life. From pulling too much coat off of my Norwich and creating holes before a weekend show to juggling my demanding schoolwork and rigorous academic schedule at boarding school to take time off to show, I worked through many challenges. Juniors takes sacrifice, organization, perseverance, and drive, but the gifts and lessons that result are beyond measure. The hug between two competitors after one’s success, the applause as a youngster trots around the ring with an eager, unwieldy dog, and the suits that are traded in for flip flops and t-shirts at the end of a long day, as a group of Juniors plays with their dogs, all come to mind when I think of the joyous, rewarding moments and memories of Junior Showmanship.
However, it isn’t only in the Juniors ring that the spirit of Juniors is apparent. One of my most momentous wins as a Junior handler was in the Breed ring with my then three-year-old Border Terrier, Grace, at the Montgomery County Kennel Club. I was fifteen at the time, and I had entered Grace to simply enjoy our time together and display her condition and grooming I had worked so hard to achieve. I had no expectations of winning. Though, on that day, our judge had different thoughts. Before I knew it, I was gaiting Grace again and again, and the group of Borders, previously an entry of nearly 100, dwindled to 30, 20, 10… I was blissfully unaware of the prospects of what was occurring, and humbly, I thought there must be some mistake when I was finally leading the final group of dogs around the breed ring and saw the judge’s finger
confidently and unwaveringly point to me. What made me the proudest was the gleeful look on Grace’s face as she pawed up my leg while waiting for her trophy. We had done it. My Grace and I had won Best of Breed at the “terrier nationals”, as it is often coined. But we weren’t alone. Outside the ring were my mentors, friends, family members, and supporters who had erupted in applause upon our win. These people had been with us every step of the way to support, teach, guide, and congratulate us. My mom, who had made it possible for us to attend every show, brought her work to our setup no matter where we were, and drove thousands of miles all to nurture my dream and passion, was happiest of all. She knew how much went into the making of this moment, and to think that I would have the opportunity to compete in Best in Show, representing the breed and its Juniors community, was overwhelming. I was filled to the brim with pride and gratitude on that day, and I can confidently say that it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t become a Junior Handler.
When asked what my favorite part of being a Junior was, I always respond by explaining the grace and quietness I felt when every puzzle piece came together in those moments in the ring with my fellow competitors and friends. The feeling is about much more than confidence or appearance or even focus; it’s about feeling every movement, every breath, and every subtle glance between yourself and your dog. The quietness comes from within, not from the surrounding acoustics, and it’s when handling becomes poetry; when you no longer feel anyone else in the room except you, your dog, and the judge. I find it difficult to explain sometimes, as it is felt deeply and clearly, not heard or said. Each of my most successful moments, my most memorable wins, and most seemingly stressful experiences have this same quality when I live and remember them. I didn’t have it at first, but after a few years of handling, I discovered how to move in synchrony with my dog, almost as one organism altogether. I believe that that bond and harmony is what allowed me to find success, and beyond that, something much much more profound between me and my dogs.
Though I am not able to be as involved in Juniors now due to my college schedule, I intend to return to Juniors as a judge someday, and I’d like to offer my guidance and mentorship to the young people entering the sport of purebred dogs, and be someone whom they can count on to support and encourage their passion by teaching technique and helping to instill confidence. I always enjoyed recognizing the name of the judge in the judging program as a former junior, and watching as they carefully and responsibly assumed their role, knowing well what it feels like to be the one who is being judged. I hope to fill that role in the future when I am not consumed by my schoolwork, and I look forward to my continued role as an ambassador for the purebred dog fancy and, eventually, as a specialist in veterinary medicine.