I sat by my favourite lake the sun was shinning, what more could a man want. Just as I was about to pack up the lake owner walked over. He was only after one thing, my money. I had been their four days and my permit had run out. We spoke for a wile, as I packed my rods away. I could not help but notice his dog, a big dog, black and tan in colour with a mastiff type head. The dog never stopped watching me as I moved round, always on his guard, but with no malice in his eyes. I asked the man "what sort of dog is that". He said "Rottweiler", "Aren't they banned," I said. "That's what everyone thinks, no they are not, they are just great dogs". I drove home thinking what a great weekend I'd had and what a great dog I had seen. I walked into the kitchen and I could see I was not the flavour of the month. My wife Chris had expected me home Saturday, this was Monday. "Sorry darling" I said "but the fishing was great and then all my mates turned up you now how it goes". This was no use; a bunch of flowers was needed, sweet-talking was not going to get me out of this one. After a day or so we were talking again. As I sat in my chair late in the evening getting my fishing gear ready for the weekend's stint. I remembered that dog I had seen. I brought the subject up, and at first Chris was quite cold to the idea. But as we talked she became more interested, as having a big dog would give her more security while I was away fishing. A few phone calls and we were of to Rottweiler rescue. We met two very nice people there, who really had the wellbeing of the breed at centre of their world. Chris at first froze at the first site of the dogs, but after playing with a lovely bitch she really warmed to them. Within a week this bitch was living with us and after a few ground rules with my children Stephanie and Carla, we all settled in nicely. Tara was not a young bitch and as time went on the inevitable happened and we lost her. Now the house was really empty with out a dog in it and soon we were looking for another one. "A puppy this time" Chris said. So again a few phone calls later and we had found a litter of Rottweiler puppies. Unbeknown to us the people who had the puppies were just puppy farmers, with not a care in the world who had the pups. Still we paid our money and took our puppy. This pup we named Baron grew and grew and grew. I know that dogs are meant to be a bit bigger than the bitches but he was huge. Tara was a well-trained bitch, so this big boy was going to have to have some proper training too. Baron and I spent the next two years doing stand stays; sit stays and all the worthwhile exercises. Chris would ask how we had got on each time we went training, and was more and more interested as time went on. One hot summer's day, we had been out with the Girls and Baron, when we found ourselves in the middle of a village fete. I could see a sign saying dog show; this was like a red flag to a bull. I would have to enter Baron in this as anybody can see I had the best dog. I paid my fifty pence and went into the ring. Now the judge wanted to see my dog's teeth and Baron thought different. Then she wanted to touch him, well that was not going to happen. There were five in the class and as I walked out with my fifth place rosette I turned to Chris and said, "what the hell would the judge Know anyway, she probably doesn't even own a dog". How wrong I was, not only did she have twenty dogs but was a championship show judge to boot. On the way home Chris said, "You know I could do that". "Oh yeah, you could not hold Baron in the ring". "No" she said "if I had my own dog I could train it and perhaps show it at weekends, if you didn't go fishing". Ummmm? Once Chris gets an idea she always carries it through. Now how to find a good Rottweiler? One of the people at my training club had told me that there were newspapers every week dedicated just to dogs, and after going to the newsagents I got a copy. "Hell" I said, " look at all these shows". After that I took this newspaper up to bed with me most nights to have a read, and try and make sense of all these results. We picked a few champ shows to go and see, but God they are a long way away. Once we got to our first show, [The Eastern county Rott Club show]. We had a walk round and talked to many exhibitors. Strange we thought how some people there would have sold us one there and then. Yet most people wanted to know everything except our shoe sizes before we could have a pup. One lady who could have not been more helpful said, "Find the type you like first, then find the best of that type and then find out who bred it". Great advice! Chris and I spent the next few months looking at many Dogs, until we found what we were looking for. We approached the breeder, who told us she had a bitch that was nearly ready to have her puppies. Deposit paid, and just a matter of waiting for the good news. After what seemed an eternity the Puppies were born and after seven weeks we were asked to go and make our choice. The breeders were going to keep a dog so our pick was to be the first pick of the bitches. Judy the breeder put all the girls in a large pen with us and said "I am not going to push you in any direction, you decide but there are two very nice ones there, but you will have to pick one". I would like to say that we studied them all afternoon, but it would be a lie. In the end we picked the one who kept biting Chris's foot. We must have got it right as David, Judy's husband said as we left " I'm glad you picked her she's my favourite. The trip home was good, and our new puppy wasn't sick. The first few days were spent introducing her to Baron and clearing up all the little mistakes. The puppies kennel club name was Audaxus Icenic Mystique. But her real name was to be Coco, as Chris had been given a bottle of the same perfume that Christmas. Coco soon got the better of Baron, and took her place as the top dog in the house. After injections we started the training. Judy had recommended a ring craft club, which could teach Chris and Coco how to get the most out of our new hobby. Week in and week out we went to the training and met some very knowledgeable people. They took Chris under their wings and really pushed her. I was surprised just how serious Chris was taking all this, some nights when I had came home from work Chris would still be in the garden With Coco. " I can't do it I just can't," she would say. " Waste of time, she will never be able to go into the ring". But the next day there she would be, back outside doing it all again. By this time we were getting the dog newspapers each week and Chris would make a note of all the coming shows, but as Coco got closer to being six months Chris started entering her. Our weekends were going to be full, what with the dog shows, Girls, and fishing? The first show was to be an open show, at the Newark County show ground. A journey of about one hundred miles, one of which we were to do very many times over the next year. All the preparations were made and Coco was groomed to perfection. We had arranged to meet Judy and David at the show. Coco's brother was to be in the same class. The judge walked into the ring and I was trying not to look too nervous for Chris. All the puppies walked in the ring and there in the middle stood little Coco. All the training had paid of as Chris and Coco did their bit. The judge after seeing all the pups placed Coco's brother first then Coco second, then the rest. Then the judge pointed at Chris and David and said, "Would you two please change places". The steward gave Chris the rosette and a loud clap went round the ring. What a start the puppy class and best puppy in breed. I will not bore you with all the shows we did for the next year or more, but just a few shows where we had some fun and some disasters. One of the first shows we did was Bournemouth. For us this show is about two hundred and thirty miles. This meant an early start. It was about eight thirty when we finally arrived at the show ground, the old car was overheating and the weather was hot, it was the sort of heat you could nearly hear. At this time you had to win first or second in a qualifying class to enter Crufts. So our hopes were set on qualifying Coco. All the dogs were panting as though their lives depended on it. We tried to keep Coco as cool as possible, and as she went into the ring I could not believe how many puppies had entered. One by one the pups were seen and after quick deliberation, the judge made her decision. The little girl had done really well, fourth in that big class. I was proud of her, but oh so close to getting her qualified. Later in our show lives this judge was to play a very important part in changing our whole lives. Her name was Betty Baxter. One of the things you will need if you are going to show dogs at championship level, I was told was a great knowledge of the roads. This was mid summer and we had left for home by mid afternoon. I, by this time was down to just my shorts, and Chris was spraying Coco with water in the back of the car, in an attempt to keep her cool. We were travelling up the M3 just before you get to the M25. All I knew was that I needed to go clockwise round the M25, so it was going to be easy just look for signs. Oh no when you get to the junction what do you get but M25 Heathrow or M25 Gatwick. "Quick Chris which one do we need" I shouted. Too late, I had to made the decision. We drove for ten or fifteen minutes until Chris could find a map. One glance at the map and I could see we had made a mistake. By this time I saw the first sign saying Brighton. "Ahhhh" I said or words to that effect "we are going round the wrong way". One more look at the map and I could see that by the time we got to the next junction it would be further to turn round and go back. By now we had been travelling for about one and a half-hours, and we were no closer to home than when we had started. Yes the car was overheating but much worse so was I. The despair became even worse when we found ourselves in a four-mile traffic jam at the Dartford tunnel. We got to the kiosk at the tunnel and had to pay the man, " Chris" I said, " give me a pound ","only have a fifty pound note" she said. I gave the man the note; he said " you got anything smaller". I never said a word. Eventually we did get home at about ten thirty. Well it had been a day out! We had become friendly with a lady and her husband from our training night [Pat and Ken]. They had been involved with dog shows for over thirty years, and had accumulated so much knowledge. It was always a pleasure to listen to them, especially when they were reminiscing about past shows, Over the coming months we would occasionally give Pat a lift to some of the shows. Her breed is smooth collies, which would always travel perfectly well with our Rott. While we were driving to Manchester one morning, Pat told me a story. Chris was asleep so I had to crane my head around to listen. It was still dark as we went over the M62, and as the rain was lashing on to the windscreen, the story made some welcome cheer. "Well" she said, as you know, before I go to a champ show, if Ken was not going, weather it be for work or what ever, he will always get the car ready. He will put all my food in for the day. All the cages, dogs, and blankets etc. This particular morning I was off to Bournemouth. A quick cup of tea, a kiss for Ken, and I was of. It is a long trip to Bournemouth, about five hours. The dogs were very quiet, but I did not think anything of it. As I drove into the showground I looked in my mirror, usually as soon as we hit the rough ground the dog's head would appear in my mirror. Not this time, I drew to a halt and opened the back of the car. No dogs! I ran to the nearest telephone box and rang Ken. I punched our phone number in and Ken answered it. Before I had chance to say anything he said, "the dogs are still here, you left before I had chance to put them in". I stopped and watched the show, but some how it's not the same, as for Ken we did start speaking sometime later on in the week. Weeks and months went by and many shows were done. Chris and Coco were getting more confident all the time. They were really working as a team. I was enjoying watching and learning from other exhibitors just what these judges were looking for. One show sticks in my mind, more for the judge than anything else. Chris had not been under a foreign judge before. So it was with great expectations that we found ourselves at the Midland Rott Club champ show. Coco had just finished a season and I thought she was looking very good. From what we had been told, our judge a Mrs Tutt from South Africa was very keen on movement. So my hopes were quite high. If she was to qualify for Crufts this was here big chance. The class was called and Chris and Coco went into the ring. My God I thought where are they all coming from. There must have been thirty bitches in the ring my heart sank. I watched the judge whittle them down, and every thing I had been told about foreign judges was correct. As the dogs went round and round the ring I felt a bit sorry for Chris as most of the other handlers had people running for them. But like a little soldier she kept at it and ran her socks of. The judge got her class down to five and I just could not watch. I turned my back when the first place wasn't Coco. There was one more chance for her to Qualify and I could not bear to see the next in line. I took a deep breath in and turned round. The first thing I remember seeing was Judy Jumping up and down, cheering. Yes, she was second. I never drink at shows, with out my driving licence we would not be able to go. But this time one little glass of Champaign had to be sipped. The pressure was off, and I would have to say I had never seen Chris so happy. There was not many champ shows left for this year, so with our Crufts entry in, we spent the rest of the winter going to open shows. The fishing had stopped, but perhaps I would do a bit more next year! Crufts was only a week away and I don't know about Chris but I was as nervous as hell for her. Coco had just come into season and Chris was very concerned that it would not be fair for the dogs if we were to take her. I phoned the vets and he told me that he could give her an injection that would suspend her season. I did not see any reason not to do this as Chris and I were so looking forward to going to Crufts. The vet did his stuff and straight away Coco seemed different. Not the confident Coco she always is, but more withdrawn. We arrived at the N. E. C. and felt very proud as we put Coco onto the bench. Her class was eventually called and I could hardly watch as they went into the ring. At that time at the N. E. C. they had very large screens hung up on the walls, right next to the Rott ring. These were kept running all day, mostly showing the agility dog being judged in the main hall. I watched Chris do her up and downs in the ring and then her triangle. Just as the judge was about to send all the dogs round, a dog appeared on the big screen jumping through a hoop. Coco just hit the floor. I thought for all I could see that she was having a heart attack. I ran round to where Chris was standing, and said, "what's wrong" "I don't know" Chris said. "I can't do a thing with her". Different people were giving Chris all sorts of advice. Some said, leave her in, some said take her out. Chris decided to keep her in, as she might not want to ever go back in if she was to take her out. The judge was very understanding and let her carry on. Needless to say she was not placed. When we got home and asked the vet, he said, " Yes that injection very often makes them go like that". We have got a different vet now Coco was soon over her problem and was straight back to her normal self, once the hormones had settled down. The rest of the year we spent going to most of the champ shows and I think Coco won three or four classes. This hobby was becoming all consuming and soon we were thinking on the lines of trying to get a studbook number on her. We had arranged to meet our friends at the Richmond dog show, so it was a case of having to get out of bed at Four am and it was still very dark. Chris was already up and packing our show bags. Well I had promised, so it was with great reluctance that I swung my legs out of my warm bed and walked down the stairs. As I walked into the kitchen a nauseating smell hit me, a mixture of my wife's perfume and fresh cooked liver well breakfast was out of the question. A quick dip in the bath clothes on, Coco in the back of the car and have we forgotten anything. No, so we're off. Now Richmond is one of our closest shows at about one hundred and fifty miles. So the drive was quick and uneventful. Chris as always fell asleep as soon as the car started and before long we were driving into the shows car park. We had talked about the judge on the way, but neither Chris nor myself had any idea who she was. We put our baggage under our bench, fed and watered Coco. As Chris was not to be in the ring until later in the afternoon, we had a walk round the show ground. When we got back to the ring our two friends had finally arrived, just in time for Coco's younger brother to go into his class. This was his first show, booth for handler and the dog. The judge seemed to know what she was looking for, but the young dog would not stay still enough for the judge to go over. "Never mind", I said "it's good practice for both of you". As for the day itself it was cold, wet and windy, [could have been fishing]. The dog ticket was done, and I had to agree with her decision. We went back to the benches and had our cold sandwiches and gave Coco the once over. Next came Coco's younger sister's turn. She looked a picture and the judge had no choice but to give her the class. By the time it gets to postgraduate, I tend to get nervous for Chris. She had chosen to put Coco into limit this time, which at twenty months old I thought was a bit optimistic. Chris walked into the ring and I have to admit, I could not watch, I never could. There was a small stall next to the ring, so I walked over to it and made out that I was interested in buying something. I talked for a while with the stall owner until there was nothing else to talk about, where upon I summoned up the courage to go and have a look how they had got on. As I walked around the ring I could not see Chris, oh no I thought she has not even made the cut and must be back at the benches. Just as I turned the last corner of the ring, I could see some people crowded round a dog. It looked like Coco. Yes, Chris was in the middle. I shouted what did you get "first" she said GREAT that's her studbook number. I gave Chris a hug and Coco a coach and we went back to the benches. The steward called all unbeaten bitches. I was so proud of Chris as she walked into the ring with Coco. This she had done all her self, all the training all the walking and here she was with a chance of the ticket. Now I was not going to miss this, but I had to remember we had not been involved in the show world long so it was best not get my hopes up to much. Chris and Coco did their bit and very nice they looked. The judge seemed to be looking at the open bitch winner and I thought well perhaps the reserve would be nice. The judge took a step back and what seemed forever stood there holding the ticket in her hand. The judge took one step towards the open bitch winner then changed direction, straight towards Coco. YES, the chairs went up she had one the ticket. Coco had won a ticket, wow. This was more than we could have wished for. The drive home seemed to go so quickly and the talk in the car was more stunned than anything else. At work the next week I spent boring the pant of anyone who would Listen. No one knew what limit was let alone the ticket. Never mind when at home I could talk to Chris, and talk we did. Now there was a decision to make, do we try to get the other two tickets? Or do we mate Coco. We had said, "If Coco could prove that she was of sufficient quality to be bred from then we would". But what a big step that would be. In the end we decided to show Coco for the next six months and if we could find a dog that in our opinion might put right her faults, and had the right temperament then we just might take the plunge. Coco is a bitch with a lot going for her, she certainly can move, she is clean over the shoulders, with a good head and very good coloration. If I had to be critical I would have to say, she needs a little more fill up under the eyes and more depth of muzzle. Over the next two or three months we did all the shows we could, but could only pick up seconds and thirds. One show we did was the East of England champs show. As I sat watching the dog CC being judged, my attention was drawn to the open dog. I have to say that until that moment I had not taken any notice of that dog. What a wonderful specimen he was everything we were looking for. He certainly did not need anymore fill up under the eyes and as for that muzzle, what can I say. Twice around the ring and the ticket was his. Why had I not noticed this dog before? Never mind I have now. Chris and I spent the next couple of weeks finding out about his temperament and studying his pedigree. On paper it looked very good, so I picked up the phone and rang the owner, Mr Drinkwater. We chattered for a while and eventually I came to the point, can we use Ch Fernwood Horatio. Tony said, "subject to seeing the bitch and her hip scores there should not be a problem". I came of the phone and said "great". "So there is no problem" Chris said. "Well its all systems go, I said just a matter of Coco coming into season". We were going to mate her the next season, but the breeder of Coco thought it would be better if we waited one more just in case she could get another ticket. Alas it was not to be. So arrangements were made and all the books read vets quizzed. What were we doing? Like clockwork Coco came into season. Now Baron has never been used at stud and never will be, but his one attribute being that he can sleep next to a bitch that's on her eleventh day and doesn't make a murmur, but as soon as she is ready he goes ballistic. Handy if you've got a five hundred-mile trip to mate a bitch. Right on cue on Coco's Twelfth Day Baron started his usual tricks. A quick ring to Tony and we were of to Preston. By the time we got there it was quite late. We had a quick cup of tea and then Tony said, "come on let's get this done I want to see Neighbours". After the introduction, Benson and Coco were tied. I had hold of Coco and Tony had hold of Benson. After five minuets it started to rain. After ten minutes it really was chucking it down. "How long does it usually take" I asked Tony, "ten, twenty, sometimes even thirty minuets" he said. After about forty minutes the water was running down the inside of my socks. I looked up at Tony and saw the water running off the end of his Nose. Tony shouted over to his wife, "Sandra! You better video record the news as well as Neighbours and you might have to call the vet if this bitch will not let go". There was a chuckle in his voice, but deep down I think he was as fed up as I was. At last after a timed fifty five-minute tie they were parted. We went back in and had one more cup of tea and before long we were on our way back home. It was well past midnight before we arrived home and all I can remember was the look of contentment on Coco's face. I was still wet! I did go back for the second mating a day later but this time without Chris and the rain. Now came the waiting. At first the day's tended to go quite quickly. Now and again Chris and I would get a pang of worry. What had we done! But that soon wore off and the excitement would start us of again. The forth week had come and we could, if we wanted, have Coco scanned. We had agreed with all the people at the ring craft club, that there was no point having bitches scanned as they were either in whelp or not, and time would tell. On the way to the vet's to have Coco scanned Chris said to me "we are as bad as the children at Christmas". I had to agree. The vet is Quite a young man he told us that he would do this scan for free as he had just got his scanner and did not really know how to use it. After waving this device back and forth for a few seconds he said "ah yes she is in whelp but I think only four". This didn't really matter as he had said the magic words, "yes she was in whelp". Showing had completely stopped by now and all we could think about was the puppies. Every day at work seemed to drag on and on and weeks were like months. After about seven weeks Coco was getting very big, if she was having four puppies then they were coming out ready to take for a walk. The temptation to take her back to the vets was great, but we did resist. Now was every thing ready, whelping box check, plenty of newspaper check, and all paraphernalia that many people had told us we would need check. One thing we found quite funny was what we called wall watching. Coco Would get off the chair go and sit by the wall and just look at it, as though she could see something. Really spooky we thought. Only Coco knew what it was all about and she is not telling. One day to go and when she was laying face up on the settee you could see the little ones kicking. Like clockwork Coco started panting heavy on the due date and neither of us were going to leave the house today. By evening still no pups and Coco was getting tired. At about twelve I phoned a friend and told her our situation. She said the only thing to be worried about was inertia. That did it, so off to the vets we went. After a quick examination he asked how far do you live away? I said only about two miles," Right" he said, " I'm going to give her an oxitosin and a calcium injection. after which get home as soon as you can". This he did and as soon as he put the last injection in did Coco's waters break. Well Michael Schumacher eat your heart out I was home in a flash and just as we got in the door the first one popped out. Ahhhh Chris shouted, "she having another one". Let me explain. Coco had gone into whelp at about 1o'clock at night. She had had eight puppies in about two hours and as we had said to Coco all through her pregnancy that we only wanted eight, we thought that was it. She seemed to be finished all puppies dry and suckling from mum. I said to Chris take her outside and see if she needs a wee. She had not been for a while and she might need to stretch her legs. Chris had to put a lead on Coco, as she was not to keen to leave her little ones. That's when Chris shouted "Ahhh she's having another one. I ran through in to the kitchen just in time to catch number 9. We walked back to her whelping box with Coco straining at the leash to have a look at her newest baby. We lay Coco down and put the puppy on a spare teat. Within two minutes she had another contraction and yes number ten was here and then just for good measure, number eleven. This was going to be interesting our first litter and it was a big one, well It was bigger then we had expected, as the vet had told us at the scan that He could only find four and she could absorb one or two of them. As the rest of the night drew on we just sat there drinking Brandy and looking at our newborn babies. We did fall asleep at some stage but the excitement soon woke us up, looking after puppies was going to be fun? Tails were our first task, and after a short trip with mum and her babies we arrived at the vets. I knocked at the door and the vet answered. She asked us if Chris could take Coco for a walk around the block, as some bitches are not so keen on seeing their babies being taken by a stranger. I went into the surgery where the vet checked each pup before putting the little band on each tail. One thing the vet said stuck in my mind, as I drove home, I told Chris. She said, "Oh you've got one" I said, " I've got what" looking a little concerned. "She said," You've got a leviathan" "what's that?" I said. "Well it's a special Usually large near perfect specimen you should keep that one". Two weeks later I was running down to the local paper bank late at night stealing old newspapers. Just how much pooh can come out of eleven little puppies? By now all the little tails had fallen off and they were really getting about. Coco had had a bad time with mastitis, which meant we had to bottle feed the pups just till mum felt a bit better, and with having to push back the mammary gland to let the puss out of Coco, I thought it must get better than this. The third week and then fourth week, more pooh and more paper where does it all come from. Chris from the start had weighed them every other day and it was nice to see them thriving. Mum by this time was not so keen to play with them but I must admit I was. These pups were such time wasters it must be the child coming out. That big pup kept catching my eye; it was not so much his size but his attitude and his confidence. He did not seem to care weather he slept with his siblings or on his own, he could control the litter with a look. Was it a good thing or not I would have to ask the experts? One by one certain friends and experts came round and voiced their opinions. Always putting the big one back first, with comments like He's too fluffy he'll go over. The day they were born Chris had put little marks with nail varnish on the pups all in strategic places. Such as one spot on the leg, and two spots on the bum. At five weeks we had about eight sold and just needed two more good homes to find. One thing we had noticed was that all the pet people would be drawn to the big one, who by now was known as one on the bum. We had said all along that we had done the mating for a bitch, so that Chris would have a pup to show. But I really liked that big one and was trying to push Chris in his direction. "No no" she would say we must not let our hearts rule our heads. At which point I would sulk! Eight weeks and the crew were definitely ready to go. One by one the puppies left us with their new-excited owners. Each time my two daughters would cry and tell the new owners that their one was their favourite, and each time the new owner would put their hand in their pockets and give them money. No fools my daughters Just then we had a phone call, one of the people who was going to have a dog had found a better one somewhere else. "Well" I said to Chris make sure if we are going to be left with one it's going to have to be the big one. Quite quickly she said if we are left with him you'll have to show him. "Yes dear" I said grinning from ear to ear. I must admit we did have some people from Brighton, Who had come to take one of the last dog puppies. He was a hairdresser, she as she kept on telling us was a model. They kept on picking up my big boy she kept saying, "I want this one he's chunky". I would wait until Chris had left the room and say, " I'm sorry he's not for sale. Eventually they left with one spot on the neck, Ahh relief. "Right" Chris said I told you if we were going to keep him you would have to show him, "I will, I will" I kept saying? Names were our next problem, the bitch we had kept was easy. She had always had one spot on her belly. So she was going to be Bella. As for my boy I thought well it's going to have to be something like Tyson, Bruno, or Lenox. No no, after watching an episode of Charlie's Angels, " it's Bosley" she said. Well great, I was going to have a big Rottweiler dog called Bosley! The only saviour was at least his Kennel Club name sounded like a man's dog. His name Reizend Earth Wind and Fire and his sister Reizend Paris Blues. Puppy training when you have kept two from the same litter was hard. Not for the show ring, but the house training. If Chris or myself turned our backs for one moment, there would be a little mistake on the carpet. Who did it? By giving them a biscuit every time one had been outside to toilet, we found worked well. But the little ones soon cottoned on to this and would make any excuse to go outside. Their little eyes would look up seeking their biscuit. Judy and myself decided to start our own ringcraft club. This would mostly be for Rotts but we would try and help others if they wished to come. I had been by now, a committee member of a canine society for a year, and had been going over the dogs at our ring craft nights, with much help from the committee. They would teach me the fundamentals of each new breed that would turn up. Then show me what I should be looking for when it came to movement. We had about twenty dogs at our first new training night and I was looking forward to showing Bosley for the first time. We were lucky in the respect that our training judge was to be a championship show judge, who lived near and did not mind giving up her time. At the end of the evening the judge said if we liked she would finish the night with a little pretend exemption show. All the dogs had their turn under the judge, Little Bella did her bit and I very proudly showed Bosley. The Judge finished her task and said, "I'm Just going to place the dogs in my preference. So don't panic they are all very nice". I looked up at the mat and there stood Chris in first place. Then another and another and so on. I eventually got the finger at about tenth place. "Never mind boy" I said we'll show them. After going twice a week to one training club or another for two or three months. I felt he was getting to know what was expected of him. What did amaze me about him was his enthusiasm. Always willing to please, and never a grumble. This was great for me as a difficult dog as my first show dog would have been a nightmare. At home he was a pleasure Chris tended to think of him as a bit of a teachers pet. Bella on the other hand was the complete opposite. If anything were left anywhere she would steal it. Some how she had found of a bottle of pills. I walked into the kitchen just in time to see her eating the last remains of the bottle. Oh Christ I thought, I called Bella out of her bed to see how many pills were left in her bed. I shouted to Chris "how many pills were there left in that bottle". "It was a full one," she said. I looked at the last piece of the label it said contents fifty. One by one I counted each pill. Phew! There were fifty. I have to confess that although she was so naughty I could not tell her off, she has a way of smiling and wagging her stump that can stop you in your tracks. The weeks went on and Bella started to bloom, everything about her said style. She moved so well and Chris had her standing like a little rock. As for Bosley I was beginning to think I had drawn the short straw. Chris called him Mr Blobby. I asked Chris to move him up and down the mat at one of our training nights. This she did. Oh God this thing coming towards me looked like a cross between an octopus and a flop-eared Rabbit. Legs going everywhere and ears dragging on the floor. He would have to improve if I was not to look a complete idiot in the ring. At this time there was about four weeks to go before their first show. This show was to be Manchester Champ show. Day by day I thought Bosley was beginning to look a bit better. Perhaps it was my imagination. Chris never said anything, but at about a week before their first show I thought yes, he definitely had changed. His ears were actually quite small. He had a lovely top line and his head really looked the part. Apart from the exemption show I had done with Baron all those years ago. I had never been in the ring before. My first show was to be a champ show and when Chris had said five months ago that I would have to show him it all seemed so far away. Now it was so close, the nerves were starting to bite. Thursday afternoon and we were to be off to Manchester early Friday morning. I had just arrived home from work early, as I wanted to check the car over before the big off. As I got out of my car, my neighbour walked over for a chat. He gave one look at the steam coming out of my bonnet and said "Problems". "No" I said, "It's been doing that for weeks". " Not going very far this week then" " yes I am, Manchester" I said, "not in that you aren't" he said. He's a mechanic so I had to listen to him. "Your head gaskets gone and it will not get you twenty miles". I went in and told Chris "######" she said, "can you do anything so that we can go". I walked over to my neighbours and asked him if he could do anything to help. "It will cost you one hundred pounds cash and I will need your help". I jumped into his car and went off to the car parts shop. We arrived home just as it started to snow. I have not got a garage so we were outside taking this engine to bits. Our hands were freezing, and the small lead lamp we were using kept going out. It got to eleven and the top part of the engine was sitting on newspaper in my lounge. A quick clean up and then it was back to putting it all back together. I don't know what time we finished, but by the time I had had my bath climbed into bed, it was time to get out again. So this was the big off, Bella and Bosley in the car, Make sure we've got the entry forms, start the car, nothing! Open the bonnet that's a bit of luck I thought the battery strap is off. I quickly put it back on and VROOOM. We were on our way. The drive there was uneventful, although my eyes never left the temperature gauge. We got into the G-mex Centre at about eight and had plenty of time to get ourselves all sorted out. I could not help but spend a lot of time in the toilet, [must have been something I ate]. Minor puppy dog was called as I was still in the toilet. Well it's now or never I thought. I went to put the lead on Bosley and could not for the life of me remember which way round it went. Hurriedly Bosley and I went into the ring, I needed that toilet again. Bosley was great, never putting a foot wrong, more than could be said for myself. The judge did say something to me, and I know I said six months, but I don't think that was the question. All the dogs had been seen and the steward asked for all competitors to stand their dogs. I looked down at Bosley and his eyes never left mine, I could see his little stump wagging as I looked up at the judge. He past me once as he went down the line looking for expression, and then came back again. He put his hand on my shoulder and said "you first sir. I walked to the middle where upon the steward told me where to stand. As I looked behind me there stood Bosley's brother. This could not be happening, their first show and both qualified. The steward announced the winners and to my amazement the whole crowd cheered, I thought at least someone else likes him. Next came little Bella. Chris showed no signs of nerves as she walked into the ring. I was still very shocked as I stood their watching Chris, and can't really remember how she looked. The next thing I can remember was Chris standing in first place too. After another cheer from the spectators. One of our fellow exhibitors turned to me and said "if you don't get best puppy today you'll want your ar## kicked. Alas it was not to be, who cared. Our little babies had won at their very first show. The drive home seemed to go so quickly, and not once did I look at the temperature gauge. I had a bad winter, work wise. There was nothing doing around my area. The building trade had stopped. Usually it would not have mattered, as I would have been fishing. But there was something wrong, something very wrong. I wanted to go to a dog show! [Something they put into the coffee I bet]. This dog showing does not come cheap, so something had to go. One week after Manchester the fishing gear was for sale. The next two shows were completely unbelievable. First an open show where after the coldest day I can remember. Bosley won his puppy class, then best puppy in the working group, and to top it all best puppy in show. The second was a breed championship show where He was best puppy in show. The next show I remember doing was the Southern counties CH show I had done this show before with Chris and could remember planes, lots of planes. This would find out weather the little boy was as nervous as I was, as I don't think he had ever seen a plane before. I should not have worried. We went into our class and Bosley was really on his toes, I can remember thinking as he raced round the ring, what's he in such a hurry for. The judge Mrs Harrup was very gentle with the pups and really put the exhibitors at ease. Bosley took the puppy class and then best puppy dog. I watched Chris in the ring with bella, and was more than happy to see her go best puppy bitch. "This is great," I said while Chris and I walked into the ring for best puppy in breed. I gave Chris a kiss and wished her best of luck. The judge sent the pair of us round the ring. She stuck out her arm to slow us down, and then passed me the rosette. "Hurry up" she said they are now calling for the puppy group. This is going to be fun I thought the nerves are bad enough in my breed without standing in a championship show group ring. We had to stand outside the big ring before we were judged, and as we all stood there I could not help but notice a man standing outside the ring looking at me. Funny I thought I don't know him. One by one the dogs went into the ring. I stood Bosley and looked up at the judge. Wow I thought I've seen him in the dog press. Then a quick look at the big table and oh my God, it was like the who's who of the dog would. It all happened a bit quickly after that, the place boards came out and with one more look at the dogs our judge pointed at us. A quick hand shake with the judge and I was back in the collection ring, weighting to go back in for best puppy in show. Now this man who had been looking at me before we went into the group ring walked over to me. "Hello" he said in a flamboyant foreign voice. I just had to come over and tell you what a beautiful dog you've got. "Thank you," I said, I have not seen a Rott like that for thirty years, and if you don't get best puppy in show today then there is no justice. At that time I had not a clue who he was but I had to agree? The six group winners filed into the ring, and I can honestly say I was petrified. The judge was again very quick, as he had already seen us all before. Just once round the ring each and that was it. The steward walked over with a large trophy and laid it on the ground. With no hesitation he just pointed at Bosley. A great cheer went up as many of our fellow Rott enthusiasts had stayed to watch. With all the ring craft in the world, it doesn't prepare you for this. As I walked out of the ring Chris gave me a great big kiss and as I looked up I thought the man who had shown a great interest in Bosley was going to do the same. It was then that he finally introduced himself to me. I'm "Gert Neilson" he said, "and I will be keeping an eye out for him, I don't think you know what you've got there". Next came the Photographers and the handshakes with the committee. The walk back to the car was like walking on air, and the drive home was only interrupted by the occasional glance on the back seat of this great big trophy. Two or three weeks went by and we had done a few more shows, with the same sort of success. A show that we had always enjoyed is the three counties champ show. Deep in the foothills of Malvern, a more beautiful setting you could not wish for. We arrived at the show at about eight, the mist was still rolling of the hills and there was still a nip in the air. It was going to be a hot day, so we had prepared well. Bosley and Bella by now were no longer in minor puppy but had risen to the dizzy heights of puppy. We watched minor puppy dog, and noticed that the judge was that very first judge we had seen at Bournemouth all those years ago. Well I thought you liked the pup's mum, so lets see what you think of her children. I did my bit with Bosley, but I could not help but notice that the judge would hardly look at him. She sent us all around again and still with out really looking at him said, "you first sir". Gob smacked was the word; I said to Chris as I came out of the ring "I can't understand that, she would hardly look at him". All the other classes were finished and it was time for the line up. One by one the dogs were seen then it was my turn. Bosley by now was right on his toes; he can sense when people are looking at him. He went off like a rocket, on my return to the judge she said," very nice dear but this time do it so I can see it. I did manage to slow him down "thank you" she said, and then I stood back in line. The minor puppy winner was seen and the judge walked over to the table. She filled in the ticket and turned to look once more at the dogs. The ticket aside I wanted to win best puppy dog, so watching her look at the open and limit winners, didn't really concern me. She walked over to us and asked me to move him again; funny I thought they don't usually ask the puppies to move again until they've given out the ticket. She held the ticket firmly in her hand as she started her walk from open dog winner down the line. All I can remember next, was this green piece of card being placed in my hand there was an enormous cheer. I could not believe it; Puppy the ticket? I walked to the centre of the ring where the steward stood. The judge was, at that time deliberating the reserve ticket winner as I turned to the steward and said, "what do I do now, "anything you want love" she said. The reserve ticket was done and we were asked to take them round once more. As I got back to the judge's table I thanked the judge and shook her hand, "not at all" she said " thank you for letting me see him. As soon as he walked into the ring I could see that he was my ticket winner. Chris gave me a great big kiss as we came out of the ring, and so many people congratulated us on him, that I found it very hard not to start filling up. All this had gone right over the top of Bosley's head, and later in the day it was time to go back in the ring for best of breed and best puppy in breed. My legs were still like lead as we went round the ring, Bosley in front and the bitch ticket winner behind. But still the judge walked over with the two rosettes and placed them in my hand. A good day, no! A very good day! The next weeks dog press was not so happy for us. But no one could take that ticket away now. It took two or three weeks to get over the excitement, and before long we were off to another show. This show was to be the East of England Champ show. Although this show is the closest champ show to us, it is one of the worst to get to. Just narrow country roads all the way, with more traffic than London at rush hour. This trip was no different from normal and by the time we arrived, I had worked myself up into a right state. It would not have taken much to put me over the edge and as we walked to our benches Chris, suggested I went for a walk round the show. This I did. As with any show, as soon as you walk anywhere you will meet someone you know. This I found more relaxing as I could now vent my frustration as to the state of the roads. On my return, I found the judging had started, and as I was in puppy dog I would have to get my skates on. Feeling better now, Bosley and I walked over to the ring. The judge a Mrs Killilea had just finished minor puppy dog and her steward ushered us in. Bosley must have taken a charisma pill. He wanted everyone to look at him; I could not help but think that if he was a person. He would be the sort that everyone would hate. What a big head! The judge was very pleasant and I thought seemed to like him. She spent a long time looking at his movement before eventually giving him the class. That felt good I thought, having had that ticket those few weeks before had made me think. Was that the kiss off death, would Bosley ever get another place again? We walked back to our bench and were met with some real support from our friends, there were comments like are you going to do it again and it won't happen this time. But I didn't want to even think about it. I wanted to keep my feet firmly on the ground and just take what ever I was given. The steward called all unbeaten dogs. So we all filed into the ring. One by one we were all seen and all stood back for the judge to take her last look. "Take them round" she said. We all went round Bosley wanted to get to the front, and it was a great surprise to me when the judge asked me to stand Bosley in-between the open winner and the limit winner. "Just you three please, take them round". We went round and round and round, it was with great relief when the judge said, "stop". All three of us stood back in line and waited for her decision. It all went a bit strange after that. I looked up and could not believe my eyes; she was walking over to me shaking here head pointing the ticket in my direction. She put it in my hand and said, " I would never have believed that I would give a ticket to a puppy, but I just love him". Two tickets! That can't be right. I was very flattered by the crowd's applauds and cheers, and just sat back in Bosley's bench shaking my head. We did not get best of breed this time; I think that would have been a bit greedy. The drive home was the worst ever but you know I did not mind a bit. We had been told by an experienced breeder that if you bake a cake and like what you bake, bake it again, as you may loose the ingredients. We had taken this advice to heart and we didn't take much persuading to start preparing for the next litter. Coco came into season right on cue, and we soon found our way back up to Preston. This time the weather was more kind to us, and Coco was more than happy to see her old boyfriend. After the second mating, we said our goodbyes to Sandra and Tony and set off for home. It wasn't until we were on the motorway that I notice something was wrong. The back of the car seemed to be wobbling, not much but enough to make me think that at the next service I would have a look. After a while the wobbling at the back of the car started to become quite therapeutic and I thought it would probably get us home, I would fix it during the week. We had just crossed onto the A1 with a hundred and fifty miles to go when Chris said, "are you going to have a look what's wrong. Or wait until the car falls to bits". A born worrier I thought, still I better check. We approached the next service station and I drove in. As the car slowed down the wobbling became a violent shake. I pushed the door open and walked to the back of the car. Nothing wrong with this side I though. I took a few steps to have a look at the tyres and to my amazement there was the biggest tyre bubble sticking out of the side I have ever seen. Nothing to worry about I thought I'd change it for the spare. I lifted Coco out of the car and lifted the spare tyre cover of. Oh no that's not good, just a big empty space where a spare tyre should be. I remembered taking it out to clean the back of the car; I couldn't have put it back in. Chris put her head out of the window. "You got to change the tyre then?" she asked. "No no" I said, "it will get us home". It would have to I thought. There was a speed that if I kept the car to, seem to feel a little less violent and I thought would probably get us home. The trouble was it was at about thirty-five miles an hour. I think Chris had sussed that we didn't have a spare, but said nothing. It was very late when we finally drove down our road. The lights on the car lit up the front of our house and to my embarrassment also the spare tyre lying against my wall. The next morning I had a look at the tyre hoping it wasn't as bad as I thought. My God I thought brushing my hand against the tyre wall. All that was left was wire-covered canvas. How the hell did that get us home? The car was an old Cavalier estate with one hundred and eighty thousand miles on the clock. There was more rust than metal and the engine would go for miles, but if I stopped it, it wouldn't start until it had cooled down. After about five weeks of Coco's pregnancy, we had found out that she was expecting. Chris decided not to go to anymore show's until the puppies had gone to their new homes, as she didn't want to bring home any infections or leave Coco for to long. This was going to be a new experience for me. I had never been to a show on my own and had always had Chris to support me. With this in mind I set off early one morning for the Midland Rott champ show. This show is a good two hundred miles and I was late. The judge was an American and I was really interested to see if she would like Bosley. I had been driving for about two hours when I had the distinct feeling that I needed the loo. I pondered for a while as to my predicament. Stop the car at a service station, and have to wait for the car to cool down. Perhaps miss my class. Or try and hold on. I would try and hold on. After another twenty minutes or so I was in trouble, the pain was not going to go away. There was nothing I could do; I was going to have a leak. There was a bottle of water I had packed for Bosley in the front foot well of the car. I reached over and with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the bottle cap. I unscrewed the cap and slightly opened the door. I could see the mist in my mirror as I poured the water out. Now came the tricky bit, how to pee in a bottle while driving. It had to be done and with a little imagination I was flowing. I kept having a little look down just to see how I was progressing and started to get a little worried, as the bottle was not very big. With a little less than an inch to spear I had finished and the relief was overwhelming. The show itself was unbelievable Bosley took the dog ticket under the American judge and then went best in show under Liz Cartilage. A very memorable day indeed. We had been told by the vet to expect only a few puppies this time, and had joked with him how far out he had been the last time. Coco was very big at nine weeks and I was beginning to think the vets two or three was more like five or six. Three days before Coco was due I decided to sleep through the night with her. Coco thought this was great, coming over every hour or so just to make sure I was still awake. After a night of panting Chris woke me up at about six. She said, "you might as well go and get some sleep, I will wake you up if she starts". I staggered up the stairs and fell into my bed it felt great. The bed was still warm from Chris being in it and the pillow felt like silk after having my head on the sofa. There is a time between being awake and asleep, something like twilight. I had just arrived at this point when Chris shouted, "Steve she's started". My eyes had not really cleared as the first puppy popped its head out, and after the shortest birth I have ever heard about, Coco was nursing six big puppies. Although Coco only had six puppies this time, weight for weight it was the same as her eleven in the first litter. These pups were very strong and as the weeks went by they really thrived. It was Christmas and the whole family would spend many hours playing with them. I had a phone call from a man in Norway. He said he was looking for a puppy from us, as he had seen Bosley at Crufts. He said "if you make all the arrangements I will pay you for all your trouble". Chris and I talked it over and decided that it would be a great honour to have one of our dogs shown in Norway. We made enquiries to the Kennel club, MAFF, and our vet. It all seemed simple enough and the puppy {Max} would stay with us until he was fourteen weeks old. Our first inkling that all wasn't as we had anticipated was when our vet phoned us late on a Sunday night. We had sent him a copy of the Norwegian MAFF requirements. He said " I have been reading this form you sent me all weekend and the more I read it the less I understand". We talked for a while and we decided that both of us would make more enquiries and see what we could come up with. By the time Max was fourteen weeks old, we had so many letters from vets and blood tests for this and that, that we just didn't have a clue whether we had got it right or not. Chris and I had become very attached to the little boy and it was with great reluctance that we set off for Gatwick airport. I carried Max out of the car park and into the airport. His eyes were wide open and his little paws clung onto me for dear life. We met Mr Hall and handed him all the paperwork. By now Chris was holding Max and he still didn't seem to be very happy. Mr Hall thanked us for all we had done and after Chris had handed over Max, we watched as he walked towards his plane. Little Max kept his eyes on us all the way until we were completely out of sight. With a tear in my eye I turned to look at Chris and the children to see they were all doing the same. It was very quiet in the car on the journey home. As I walked in the door the phone was ringing I answered it. It was Mr Hall he said, "we have been home about thirty minutes and Max has settled in. He is trying to eat all the snow, but I've got news for him, there's a lot of it"! As for the rest of the litter the puppies that Chris and myself liked were going to show homes anyway, so we decided not to keep anything. We would see them most weeks at shows. The rest of the year went so quickly, and there was a really big following for our Bosley. The one little comment that kept haunting me was that the third ticket was always the hardest. Show after show we went, and fortunately gaining first place at most. Sometimes getting the reserve but not that elusive third ticket. At work the boys were teasing me, not knowing what they were on about. But because I had gone on about it for so long, they had decided to play me at my own game. I have to say the pressure was getting to me. No one in the dog world would speak to me without saying when are you going to get that third one then. This was ok at first, but by Christmas it was getting to me. By the end of the year Bosley was UK's top Rottweiler pup and to say I was proud of him was an understatement. And of cause little Bella had come a close second. It had been a wonderful year and I can honestly say I was hooked on dog showing. Crufts was out of the way, and we'd had a great day, but not that ticket. I had dreamt about it, I had not stopped talking about it, and I could smell it. Was this normal for a grown man? The next disaster to hit us was the car. Driving home from work one night it finally died, and after scraping all the money out of our piggy bank. We took the plunge and purchased a big Volvo. The next show was to be the Scottish Rott champ show, but this was so far away, and so much money in petrol. A day before the off Chris and I had a chat and decided, it was to far and we were being silly going all that way. I went to work on the Friday with the knowledge that we were going to have a rest this weekend. By the afternoon I was starting to give in to temptation, by the time I started to drive home I had it all planed. Take the kids round father-in-laws have a quick dinner, drive through the night and do the show, and drive home. What could be easier? I presented this idea to Chris, and at first she was quite cross for not giving her enough time to organise. We pulled together and at about eight we left for bonny Scotland. The drive went on and on. By the time we got to Edinburgh I though we were nearly there. Not on your life Perth was still miles away. We finally arrived at the sports centre at about four in the morning. We tried to get a bit of sleep but Bosley and Bella were having none of it. One by one people started to arrive, firstly committee members then our fellow exhibitors. We must be mad, I thought as I was standing in the gent's toilets trying to have a shave in cold water. The show opened, and I was starting to feel a bit better. I think Chris were now on our second wind. We sat and watched most of the classes being judged and were very impressed by our judge's opinions. I took a deep breath as I entered the ring with Bosley, he was in limit by now as he had two tickets but he was still only twenty months old. The judge a Mr Tomlinson was very good with the dogs not over handling them, but at the same time taking his time. I would have to say that even in my class I had the shakes, it must have been the lack of sleep. It got even worse when he gave me the class, I've never heard a cheer like it when the steward gave me the rosette. I exited the ring and had a sever attack of verbal diarrhoea. Chris said, "for gods sake shut up". But I was so full of adrenaline I couldn't. The open dog took ages, or so I thought. Eventually the steward called all unbeaten dogs into the ring. I was finding it hard to breath I think I was hyperventilating. One by one the dogs were seen, and I was so grateful to the judge for not making us run to much as I don't think I could have run another step. All the dogs were now in their place and the judge was now making his final decision. He walked back to the table and started to write on the ticket. What was writing? He was just too far away to see. I kept him in the corner of my eye as walked away from the table. Bosley was standing like a solder, I dear not move. I heard the cheers and screams first; I looked up to see who had got it. But he was standing in front of me. "There you go my boy," he said, " very well done". If ever there was a sight of relief this one was the biggest. I would like to say I kept it together and shook his hand, but that would be a lie. I just broke down and cried. I can remember thinking what the hell am I doing. I'm a bricklayer big and butch, we don't cry. But I just could not stop. My little boy. Champion, Reizend Earth Wind and Fire. I dried my eyes and took Bosley for a walk. We walked for miles, until I remembered that we had to be back for best in show. The walk turned into a sprint as I thought we might be late. I need not have worried as they were still judging open bitch when we arrived back. After the bitch ticket was finished, the stewarded cleared the rings and made one big one. The bitch judge then went over Bosley and like wise for the dog judge. The two judges conferred for a while before walking over to me with the rosette. I could not help but think that we very nearly didn't do this show and now it would be the most memorable show I would ever do. By now it was about five o'clock, and we had a nine-hour trip home. We shock hands with the committee and the judges, and then set off for home. The adrenaline was keeping me awake until we got to Newcastle. But with two hundred and fifty miles to go I would need more than that. I can remember Chris trying to keep me awake by talking to me for the next one hundred and fifty miles. But after that all I can remember was waking up in my bed. If anyone had told me that I had driven over all the round a bouts on the way home, I would have to believe them. Now that's dangerous! The next day was spent just looking at that third ticket, I kept thinking was he a champion, dose it count if the third comes from another country. All sorts of stupid things kept going through my mind and it wasn't until I got the confirmation from the Kennel Club that it really sank in. Bosley was a champion. The more I kept saying it the better it sounded. Chris was still keen to do as many shows as possible, so it was still going to be a busy year. Before long we were back up to Scotland, where Bosley took his fourth ticket and before we new where we were, Bosley had twelve. I had been under some of the countries top judges and some from overseas. He'd had three best in shows at breed champ shows and two group placings. But we had not won a group yet. With this in mind I set of for Midland County champ show. I had left Chris at home with the puppies. I was going to get an early start, but as it was my birthday I decided to set off early evening so that I could have a drink and some sleep in the car. Chris gave me a call at about twelve to wish me happy birthday. I had a few glasses of brandy, and then got my head down. Bosley snored all night and with the gear stick digging in me, I can't say it was the best night's sleep I had ever had. I woke up the next morning to see a friend's face pushed up against the window. "What the hell are you doing" he said, "well I was sleeping until you woke me up". I got dressed and fed and watered Bosley. We went into the show; where upon most of the exhibitors were already there. We were in open dog now so it was long weight before it was our turn in the ring. Again the ticket was mine and so was the best of breed. The group at Midland was laid out very nicely. A large ring covered in green base and spotlights. I had phoned Chris to tell her of our success, and she wished me luck in the group. One by one the breed winners filed into the ring and set their dogs up. I looked up to see that the judge was the same judge that had given him best puppy in show at his very first open show. Mrs Spavin watched all the dogs go round then went over each dog in turn. The steward's put the place boards out and before I had a chance to get nervous. She pointed at Bosley, the applause was much appreciated and with all the photographers, made the moment very special. Mrs Spavin had a little joke with me saying, "ah luv, your dogs rubbish, but you can come with me". I wondered what Chris would have to say about that. We had to have some more photos done, but Bosley was dead on his feet. A good friend of ours Jane Heath said she would run around in front of him to try and get his attention. If I live to be one hundred years old I will never forget the sight of Jane running round the ring doing star jumps and screaming. It really makes it all worthwhile. On the way home, I listened to a radio program, the compare was having a go at motorists. I went along with it for a while until he said "the worst drivers in the world were called Steve, lived in Norfolk, drove a Volvo with a bloody caravan on the back". Well I was not going to have any of that. My names Steve I live in Norfolk I was driving a Volvo, and I had just bought a caravan. They kept on giving out the telephone number, so I rang it. I was through straight away and said, "as a rule I would take exception to what you've just said, but after the sort of day I've had you have not got a chance". I ended up telling him what had happened that day, which went right over his head. But I had the last laugh by saying that I would hope to see him behind me doing thirty miles an hour down some country lane when he was in a hurry. Winning the group at Midland Counties had brought us to the end of a great year. By Christmas we had the confirmation that Bosley was the top Rottweiler for 1998 and with his brother gaining a ticket at Scotland. This had given us a very flattering award of top breeders. After that great year, there was a stunned feeling. I could only reflect on what a great introduction into dog showing I had had. Chris on the other hand, was keen to try and keep some sort of momentum. We had considered many dogs to use to Bella and had been told by many experienced breeders to try and fix our type. As we were still trying to work out how this line breeding works, it was still going to be a bit potluck. One dog that had always been a favorite of ours was Rory [Ch Fernwood Fallon]. He has without doubt one of the best temperaments we know of. He is very true to breed type and has a great head. With this in mind we made all the arrangements. Debbie, the owner worked during the day so it was late afternoon before we arrived. Bella was very keen to see Rory, and when Debbie let him out to have an introduction she almost raped him. Debbie likes to let the dogs have, as much as possible a controlled natural mating. Rory ever the gentleman mated Bella and when they had finished wanted to play football. Debbie gave them the ball and Bella stuttered around the garden with it in her mouth. Rory's not a young dog but tried to chase Bella in a vain attempt to get it. After a few minutes he was getting more desperate to gain the ball. Bella gave Rory one chance to get it, where upon he gave a big effort to grab the ball and went straight into Debby's garden wall. I grabbed Rory to stop him collapsing and cringed at the thought of what happened. I looked at Rory's eyes and they told the whole story. Little by little he started to come round again and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Needless to say Rory was not so keen to play football with Bella anymore. Once Rory was better we had the customary cup of tea. Bella had had a wonderful time and as we drove away she kept looking back until Debby's house was completely out of sight. Nine weeks to the day Bella had her eight puppies. She was a great mother to these pups and really took her responsibilities seriously. Coco seemed to think Bella was just looking after them for her, and Bosley completely disowned them. We ended up keeping two bitches from the litter, which we named Lilly and Billy. By March 99 Chris had her two new girls to show and I still had my Bosley. The caravan had sat in my front garden all winter and hadn't been used in anger. The Rottweiler club's champ show was looming and we had decided to have a weekend away. This particular weekend also had the Welsh Rott champ show. I arrived home from work on the Friday at about 4o'clock The children were very excited and after all the bedding and food had been put in the caravan we were off. I had managed to hook the caravan on with a bit of trial and error and a lot of swearing. Now it came to driving with this thing hanging of the back of my car. At first at low speed I didn't really notice the difference. But once I drove on to the dual carriageway and built up speed things started to get a bit hairy. We were in March and the weather was very windy and wet. Fifty-five was the best speed everybody had told me. But the old car was not going to get close to that. Especially up against the wind going up hills. This was a new experience for me, as I like to get to my destination as soon as possible. We had set off at about five and usually this trip to Malvern would take about three hours. God knows how long this was going to take. I think Chris and the children sensed I was not happy with the situation. They had noticed every time an arctic went passed me slightly faster than a snail; I started to fight with the steering wheel. Just before I'd had my second nervous breakdown, we finally arrived. The first thing we did [I did] was to get stuck in the mud trying to reverse into my caravan space. Lucky enough a couple of friends helped us push the caravan back and before long Chris had the tea [supper] on. The children couldn't weight to try out their new beds and soon they were asleep. Some how and for whatever reason I had a bad case of indigestion. I tried to get to sleep but I just made myself more uncomfortable. The next morning after a good breakfast I drove the short trip to the show. Chris and Lilly walked in to their class and I was so pleased to see them win it. It was not going to be Bosley's day, but when Chris walked into the ring and won best puppy in show I was over the moon. We drove back to the caravan and after having a good fill, we just had to have a few drinks to celebrate you understand. The children had met some friends, which had left us more time to have a few more. We staggered back to he caravan and after a nightcap, drifted off into a deep sleep. Chris woke me up at about five, as we had to make the trip to Wales. God I needed more sleep, much more. The trip to Wales was over quite quickly and the car felt much better without its load. The show its self was the first welsh Rott champ show and very well run it was. Bosley and myself couldn't have had a better day with Bosley going best in show. Tiredness had set in but still we had to drive back to Malvern pick up the caravan and drive home. The drive back to Malvern was not too bad, but as we drove back home with the caravan attached the weather really closed in. The wind was bad enough but not being able to see with the driving rain, was really bad. By the time we had done one hundred miles, we had agreed to sell the caravan as soon as poss. This is my thank you to the judges, who have thought so highly of Bosley. Mrs E Baxter. Mrs I Ratray Mrs M Everton Mrs J Killelia Mrs N Keenan Mr T Jones Mr R Tomlinson. Mrs B Banbury Mr C Culley Mrs M Purnell-carpenter Mrs Onstenk schenk Mr D Parish Mrs J Heath. Mr P Keenan. Mrs J Blackmore Mr D Killilea Mrs S Drinkwater Mrs M Mcphael Mr D Harding Mr R Gregory Mr T Nethercott Mr M Quinney Miss Rademacher Mr G Nielsen Mr T lindstrom Mrs A Whitmarsh Mrs J Adams Mrs J Knox Mrs J Yates Mrs M Duffy Mrs K Krugger Mrs J Radley Mrs J Ochenden Mrs D Sowden Mrs E Harrup Mr S Hall Mr J Kirk Mrs F Somerfeild A special thanks to. Mr K Nathan Mrs M spavin Mrs L Cartlidge Mrs B Banbury Mr D Smith Mrs Z Thorne Mr J Bispham Mr L Paglero Mrs M Bryant http://www.reizend.freeuk.com/