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How did you become involved in Siberians? I saw my first Siberian when I was a senior at Deerfield Academy in Massachusetts. My dorm master bought a puppy, and I thought he was simply the most magical animal I had ever seen. In Iran, I had grown up racing Arabian horses and had had lots of dogs, but this dog had a kind of majesty and allure that I had never seen in a dog, though it was somewhat similar to the Arab stallions I had trained. I bought my first when I was still a senior in college at the University of Pennsylvania. He shredded the only expensive piece of furniture we owned, a very designerly couch, and he taught me a lot about the irrepressible nature of the breed. He was every bit as stubborn and anarchical as I was, and I simply loved him. He was pet-quality, of course, out of a Midwest puppy-mill - a bit over standard with a tight tail, but a fabulous coat that looked good whether he was in-coat or out. Were you mentored and by whom? When I was a graduate student at Syracuse University, I decided that maybe I'd like to breed Siberians. So I went to a "show" kennel in the area and thought the owner was pretentious as hell, and the dogs were kind of heavy headed, short muzzled and short legged. They reminded me of cats. But I found my way to another local breeder who told me if I wanted to talk to someone who knew more than even this show breeder, I should contact Peggy Koehler of Alakazan Kennels. This person told me of once calling Peggy and asking how she picked her puppies. Peggy had responded (She had this wonderful, deep-throated, kind of whiskey voice) "Well, I pick the one who looks best to me when they're about 8-weeks old, and if he looks like crap at six months, I sell him." And after spending time with the considerably more pretentious show breeder. I thought, "Now this sounds like someone I'd buy a dog from." And two days later I owned one of Peg's pups, Alakazan's Soroya (after the Shah of Iran's first wife). By this time I had Lorna Demidoff's little TFH book with the fabulous photo of Pando, King and Roadmaster lying in the snow, and Pando appeared in Soroya's pedigree six times, so I was thrilled. Peggy introduced me to Lorna, and the two of them mentored me until I finished writing The Complete Siberian Husky with Lorna in 1978. After that I learned a lot from Kathleen Kanzler and others until Harris Dunlap introduced me to Charlie Belford, who had known Seppala and the earliest Siberians and had won more races with Siberians than anyone, and he sort of rounded out my education about performance and proportions. Which particular breeder influenced you in type and structure? Well, I began by thinking the breed began and ended with Pando (though I never saw him), largely because of that wonderful photo, though Peggy Koehler liked to point out that Pando never actually looked like that. But when I worked on the first book with Lorna and had the opportunity to study dozens of old photographs, I realized Pando was a bit dumpier than most of his predecessors. Lorna was trying to recreate Izok of Gap Mountain when she bred Pando, and from the two photos I've seen of him, I'd guess he was a bit leggier and more athletic. It might surprise people, however, to know that when I once asked Lorna who her best Siberian had been, she answered without a moment's hesitation, "Togo." Lorna's Akela had about the most beautiful head I ever saw, and his son, Ch. Marlytuk's Red Sun of Kiska, along with Ch. Dichoda's Yukon Red and Ch. Innisfree's Sierra Cinnar were all dogs I introduced into my pedigrees quite early on. Ultimately, though, the two animals I keep in my head as models, so to speak, are the import Kreevanka and Seppala's best racing leader Fritz. Kreevanka appears to have been a bit lighter boned and leggier, Fritz a little more substantial, but both were very correct in type and structure, and I try to keep my animals somewhere in the range between them. Who was your first Champion? My first champion was Demavand's Shabdiz, out of Soroya, a fairly large black and white, blue-eyed boy I finished over 65 males at the Devon dog show under Virginia Hampton. It came down to a run off between him and Artic Rogue O' Innisfree, handled by Trish Kanzler. Shabdiz was a bit of a fader in the ring, and I had won a number of Open Classes only to lose to a dog from one of the smaller classes, so this time when Mrs. Hampton put us in front of Rogue, I decided if we were going to lose we were going to lose in the class, not in the Winners Class. So I stepped back the full length of the six-foot lead, hoping he'd hold together, and lo and behold, a hawk suddenly appeared circling overhead, and Shabdiz saw him and pulled himself together and looked magnificent. Poor Rogue already had about 13 Reserves by this time, and when we won, Trish was fit to be tied. She came back later, though, very graciously, with a blue balloon that had "Ch. Shabdiz" written on it. So it was a day I learned a little about handling and a lot about sportsmanship. Who was your foundation bitch and what was her most valuable quality? I really had three foundation bitches - Soroya, Ch. Goldspur's Ahzrahk Bannu and Ch. Innisfree's Sahar of Demavand. Bannu, whose name translates as Blue Lady, was inbred on Roadmaster (a daughter of Ch. Monadnock's Akela and a granddaughter of Ch. Alakazan's Konyak - the two best Roady sons). I bought her because I wanted that wonderful Roadmaster head, but I never really got it from her, which taught me a lesson about pedigrees and phenotypes. She gave me my second male champion, Demavand's Ahtesh, out a Ch. Dichoda's Yukon Red son. Bannu was quite compact, a very balanced mover, but was a little lacking in angulation. Sahar (which translates as "the morning before dawn") was the last bitch I acquired, a daughter of Ch. Innisfree's Sierra Cinnar. She did have angulation, and when I bred her to Rogue, I produced Ch. Demavand's Sa Shunka of Sno-Den, who belonged to my partner at the time, Dr. Peter Perez, was a great working dog and very influencial in the subsequent breeding program. How many litters would you say you have bred over the years? At what age do you evaluate letters for show or pet? I've probably whelped between 30 and 40 litters, and I try to make my decisions between six and eight weeks ---judging them more-or-less as miniature adults, taking them apart, putting them back together, trying not to miss the woods for the trees, and trying to remember, as Peggy Koehler once said, that I'm looking for the best puppy in the litter not the best puppy in the world. At that age, what specifically are you looking for? What I look for depends in part on why I did the breeding - which characteristics I was trying to reinforce and which I was trying to minimize. But always I'm looking for good temperament and type, good shoulders, toplines, croups, proportions and movement.....and the puppy who simply makes the most of himself or herself. I spend a lot of time feeling necks and chest shape as indicative of future front development, and a lot of time just watching them move and play. I want agility and coordination, and I always give a certain degree of attention to the one who gets out of the whelping box first or seems more agile in any number of ways. I want an athlete as well as a show dog, and I want that sort of wirey quickness and taut, fat-free loin that I believe separates the athletes from the powder puffs. Ultimately, what I want to see in my kennel, and which I pretty much have, are animals that are either A+ athletes and B+ showdogs or A+ showdogs and B+ athletes, with the hope that in the end you arrive at an animal who represents the best of both worlds. Have you had more success with line breeding or outcrossing? I think the art of breeding is partly in knowing when to line-breed or in-breed and when to outcross. You breed in to more firmly establish certain characteristics and breed out to bring in certain desirable characteristics or to guard against the health hazards of too much in-breeding. I go back and forth between the two, though I do a lot of what’s called “diagonal” line-breedings in which the sire of the sire is the grandsire of the dam on the dam’s side, or vice versa. But in any breeding I believe you have to pay close attention to how the individual dogs and their parents match up phenotypically. In other words, in any breeding you’re likely to see in the whelping box puppies that look like the parents and puppies that look like the grandparents. So the old wisdom of breeding “like to like” tends to give you fewer surprises. Or to put it another way: There is a saying in the game of pool to “shoot the short green” – in other words, go with the short shot whenever possible. In dog breeding, it’s sort of the same. If you breed animals who are very similar, not only in type but in proportions and bone lengths (providing they are both very balanced and good movers), you’re likely to get similar and balanced puppies. So for years my general intention was to breed the same kind of dog with as many variations of pedigree as I could manage, simply to keep from painting myself into a corner genetically – because gene pools get tired, so to speak. How do you select a stud dog? You should select a stud dog based on two things: how well he matches up with the strengths and weaknesses of your bitch, and how typical he is of his family. If his family is not generally strong in the areas you want, in other words, he’s not likely to be reproductively strong in those areas even though he, himself, may exhibit them. So you first have to find the right dog, and then see if he’s generally representative of his family. Then, too, you have to remember that just as there are no perfect dogs, there are no perfect, that is to say, failsafe breedings. Every breeding is a bit of a gamble, even a repeat of a great breeding. The breeding that produced Ch. Marlytuk’s Red Sun of Kiska, for instance, was repeated four times after the litter that produced him, but there was only one Sunny. I think one of the unfortunate by-products of this time of hyper-advertised, glamour dogs is that they’re too often seen as individuals rather than members of families. I don’t care how wonderful a dog appears to be, if his brother has epilepsy and his mama cowers in her doghouse, I don’t want to use him. “You can’t let any dog become too valuable or you’re likely to tell lies about him” has long been one of my beliefs, meaning that once you’ve spent very big bucks campaigning a dog, you’re much less likely to mention to someone in search of a stud dog, “Oh, and by the way, his father started having seizures last week.” So, above all, know the family, and try to deal with those people who will tell you about the skeletons in the closet, because every family has them. What kind of research do you do when you go outside to breed? I often say, “You survive in dogs based on your ability to read human character.” I deal with people I trust and whose family of dogs I’ve known for a long time. For the newcomer, I can only advise to get to know the family of dogs and the people behind the family. Is phenotype more important than its pedigree? Well, I always consider phenotype first and pedigree second. But the first three generations of a pedigree are certainly relevant, for all the reasons I’ve mentioned. Was there ever a turning point in your breeding program? I sort of went all around the barn to create the foundation of our breeding program – a little of this, a little of that, and a little more of this. I knew where I wanted to get to, but I remained flexible in how I got there. You have to trust what works, and you have to learn as you go, and as you learn, you realize you have farther to go and more to learn. But I always assumed that I’d arrive at a place where I’d want to in-breed. I just knew I’d have to have the right dogs first. To succeed as a breeder always takes some luck, but you have to recognize the luck when you get it and know how to use it. When I produced the litter that contained Ch. Demavand’s Kiev and Ch. Demavand’s Basra, I realized I had what I wanted to begin criss-crossing their offspring back to the aunt or uncle, and for the most part that has worked very well, producing almost all my recent champions. So that was a major turning point, but all along the way we’d had significant break-throughs. Which breeding have you been most proud of? I actually never think in those terms. To me a breeding program is a process more than a product. I’m proud of the fact that the least of my puppies out of today’s litters are usually better than the best puppies of 20 years ago. I’m proud of the fact that every animal in my kennel has qualities I only dreamed about in my early years. But our litters are generally quite similar by now, and I guess what I’m saying is that I’m proud of the family and the kind of puppies they generally produce more than any particular breeding. What would you say was the best dog that you have owned or bred? Again, I never really think in those terms. I made a rule many years ago that there would be no second-class citizens in my kennel, so I consider everything I have here to be a “10” in at least four or five categories. If they’re not, I don’t keep them. And I only house between five and eight dogs at any given time, usually not more than six, though I also co-own several. I personally enjoyed handling Basra the most, I suppose, because she represented so much of what I had worked toward and because she was such a pleaser, but I was very proud to be the co-breeder of Kitty (Ch. Widestar’s Cat Ballou) who won the breed at the National in 1998 over a total entry of something like 1343 with 171 Specials, and before her Ch. Demavand’s Liyaza Cassandra, BOS in 1988 over an entry of more than 1000. And of course Basra’s son (and Kiev’s grandson), Ch. Demavand’s Cassio’s Secondwind, has more recently won a number of specialties and groups, and I’m very grateful to many friends that made that possible, and very proud of him. All of these animals represent or represented a good 90% of what I want in a Siberian, and that’s about as good as you can hope for. Sometimes I think we see breeding too much in the negative, as correcting faults, whereas the greater part is maintaining the virtues, keeping those characteristics we come to admire and love most in the breed, not the least of which are their zest, vigor and intelligence. The 1932 AKC Siberian Husky Standard assigned a scale of points to different parts of the Siberian. What importance would you place on the following by assigning points out of a scale of 100?
Size and General Appearance I really can’t parse it into that many categories. I give about a third to proportions (and that’s every aspect from head to tail), about a third to movement (which is also composed of many elements), and a third to type (which includes temperament.) And even here, the categories blur a bit – movement and proportions being essentially elements of breed type, and so on. Everything is related to everything, in other words, so, for instance, I fault toeing-in more than toeing-out, wide more than narrow, as well as any excess of head, chest, or bone because these things have a direct effect on the animal’s likelihood of functioning efficiently as a long-distance sled dog. I always liked a comment by Bruce Lee, who said, “Before I studied the art (meaning kung fu), a kick was just a kick, a punch just a punch. As I studied the art, a kick became much more than a kick, a punch much more than a punch. But when I mastered the art, a kick was just a kick, a punch just a punch.” I think that’s the way with many things, including dogs – we study the parts to come to an understanding of the whole, and then a dog is just a dog again, or a Siberian a Siberian. How important is type over form and function? Form is an extension of function, and so type is really merely an extension of what Siberians do and where they lived – a certain kind of coat, a certain kind of head, ears, eyes, etc. allowed them to survive, while the body proportions, muscling and body style got them down the trail. So, although there are obvious nuances and particulars that matter, type and function really go hand-in-hand or hand-in-glove. Is it possible to have various forms of TYPE in the breed? Type is type, but within the category of type, there are certain variations in what might be called style – markings, coat variables, slightly different nuances of head, and so on – but type is the constant laid out in the standard, those things that make a Siberian recognizable as a Siberian. One of the things often asked old-timers like myself is, “Do you like the old type or new type Siberian better?” Well, there’s only one “type.” The rest has to do with superficialities. I have a hunch that what people mean by “old type” are some of those big headed, kind of coarse animals that emerged in the 60s and early 70s, but they were aberrations from the decades before. What I’m looking for is a Siberian that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a team in the 30s, 40s or 50s – maybe a little prettier than many in those decades, but generally the same kind of dog. Describe your ideal Siberian? First, I want the correct proportions — head medium in size in proportion to the body; equal length muzzle and back skull; medium length neck that joins the top line in a smooth line that indicates good shoulders; strong top line with a fairly short mid-back and fairly long, sloping croup with tail set just below the level of the top line; a chest not too broad or deep; a taut, fairly short loin (four, very slightly spread fingers); legs longer than depth of chest (about two inches or as 5 is to 4); length from point of shoulder to end of pelvis about 9-10% longer (about two inches) than height at withers (or as 10 is to 9 or 11 is to 10); approximately equal length shoulder blade, upper arm, pelvis and upper thigh, with forearm and lower thigh about a third longer; good, strong, oval, slightly webbed feet; slightly slanted, strong pasterns, and correct tail carriage. And I want to feel firm muscles but not bulky ones. Overall – a lithe, wiry, athletic animal that floats when moving and has that foxy, beautiful, gently tapering Siberian head and soft, eager expression. And then, of course, a smart, willing dog with a great temperament. Have you done any sledding? Sure. My brother and I used to play at it years ago, but I was too crippled from a motorcycle accident and too poor to do it very seriously. Later, my old partner Pete Perez did it seriously for a while on a regional basis. I believe one of our teams was all but undefeated by purebred teams and used to place pretty far up among the mixed-breed teams. I’ve always put a high priority on maintaining a good working attitude, and a lot of our dogs do still run on other people’s teams, often as leaders. What traits would you like to keep in your breeding program for generations to come? Well, to me, the whole charm of the breed comes from their combination of vigor, toughness and clownish affability along with their exquisite beauty. So those are the things I’d like to maintain, but especially the nimble athlete as opposed to the cloddy or dumpy dog or the powder puff. Rate type, temperament and soundness in order of importance? Well, of course, you have to have a pretty high degree of each to have anything at all. Short Seeley famously said, “If you lose type you’ve lost the breed,” to which I’ve added, “Yes, but if you lose the athlete, you’ve also lost the breed.” But, by now, most everything seems to me elements of type – not only the head and coat, but the proportions, gait and attitude or temperament. So I don’t put one over the other. I want them all in good measure and good balance. What are the most important characteristics of the Siberian Husky? He’s got to have an efficient body to be a long distance sled dog, he has to have those characteristics necessary to survive in a harsh, Arctic climate, and he has to have the attitude and intelligence to be a useful worker. Thus— type, temperament and soundness. Which faults would you consider "weakness in structure" that would make a Siberian incapable of performing his/her original function? Starting with the most important first. Original function I take to mean the ability to hit 20mph in harness for short distances (as the first breed standard said) and the ability to cover 100 miles in a day, so I’d say short legs, poor muscling, wide chests, poor shoulders, weak feet and weak top lines in roughly that order. What is your goal in your breeding program? Well, I’m in the end game of our breeding program, so to speak, so what I’m trying to do is produce another generation or two of the kind of dual-purpose Siberian that’s taken many, many generations to arrive at – to keep their virtues of type, structure and temperament and not fall through the ice into serious genetic problems – to keep the best of what we have, in other words, and keep it strong and healthy. What were some of your favorite Siberians of the past that you did not breed or own? Of the dogs I’ve actually seen, I’d say Ch. Monadnock’s Akela, his son Ch. Marlytuk’s Red Sun of Kiska, his son and daughter Ch. Marlytuk’s Ahkee of Huskywood and Ch. Marlytuk’s Kiska Too of Chakoo, Ch. Alakazan’s Banner Blue, Ch. Oomik’s Ouista, Ch. Weldon’s Beau Buck, Ch. Artic Rogue O’Innisfree and Ch. Innisfree’s Sierra Cinnar. There was also a lovely gray bitch, I think a Sunny daughter, who belonged to a woman named Shirley Brown, as I recall, but I can’t remember the bitch’s name. I’m sure there were others, but these are the animals that immediately come to mind as having captured my imagination during my formative years. Many had certain characteristics I wouldn’t necessarily want now (Banner Blue was a bit short on leg, Ouista a little cobby, etc.), but they all had compelling virtues. What does it take to win in a sport that is so competitive. Patience, luck, being at the right place at the right time, and, of course, a GOOD JUDGE. Puppies need to be trained and socialized well, and you have to show up with dogs in good condition and make them look at least as good as they do in their own back yard (and that’s actually much harder than it sounds). You also have to have a good eye and really know the strengths of your exhibits. And don’t waste a lot of money on BAD JUDGES. What are some of your greatest moments in the ring? Well, the best DAY I had was the 1998 National when animals of mine or directly out of my breeding took BOB, two AOM’s, Best Brood Bitch, with the get of the winner of the Stud Dog Class being from one of our bitches. We also had animals that took second and third in the Maturity Class, and even the Best Team came down from our breeding. And, you know, I’m essentially a six-dog kennel – though, admittedly, with a number of very good friends. But every win has its thrill – for me, especially Specialty wins. Basra got several majors at Specialties and the Breed at at least one. And you like those heart-pounding, steely-nerved run-offs – at least when they’re over and you’ve won. I was thrilled at last year’s National to watch Cassio’s sister Ariel take a very hard-won Open Bitch Class and Reserve. But probably that first big, finishing win with my first champion that I described earlier is my most memorable, moment-by-moment recollection. I understand that you have a Siberian that you are currently campaigning. Can you tell me how that came about? Well, Cassio was a puppy that came out of one of those diagonal breedings I mentioned earlier, a Kiev son bred back to his aunt Basra, and he was a stunning puppy from probably four weeks on. He originally lived with my friend Gail Castenguay, which is where the “Secondwind” in his name comes from, but Gail was very busy and not able to show him very much, and Jack and Jane Steffen had loved him from the start. So he went to live with them and run on their team with a number of his relatives. Jack and Jane both trained him and usually Jack showed him at the outset. Later, my friend Johanna DuWaldt-Coutu joined what we began to call “Team Cassio” and with her came Jessica Plourde who is the best Siberian handler I’ve ever seen – he floats, she floats, and there’s no excess motion in either. With the team completed, I guess you could say, the rest is history. What makes Cassio worthy of being campaigned? The easiest way to answer that is by pointing to the results – He’s had very significant wins under every breeder judge I deeply respect except for Natalie Norris who hasn’t been judging much. But he IS a truly moderate, extremely well-proportioned, very typy, beautifully moving Siberian who is built to do the job and has a fabulous temperament. He also has great feet. Even Charlie Belford, who was a hard man to please, loved his feet. In fact, he liked Cassio a great deal and was always trying to figure out if he liked him better or his kennel-mate Pontiac, another Kiev grandson who runs lead on the Steffen’s team. Ironically, the only time Pontiac was shown was at the last Portland National, and he took third or fourth in Open while Cassio took first. But until the last couple of minutes, it was Pontiac who was in first. That was under Vince Buoniello, and of course Vince is a long-time dog driver. What would you say is Cassio's strengths? Pretty much those things I’ve mentioned, but maybe his greatest virtue was summed up by Sally O’Connell who came up to me at last year’s National and said, “You know, I noticed something today. When Cassio moved I couldn’t hear his feet on the mat, and he was the only one I couldn’t hear.” I laughed and said, “You know, Al Stead just made that point on showsibe a few weeks ago – if you want to really appraise movement, close your eyes. The best mover is the one you don’t hear.” Can you tell me about some of Cassio's offspring? When breeding Cassio, what would you say he usually contributes to offspring? Cassio’s only been bred twice so far, but his virtues are type, movement and temperament, and he seems to have passed those qualities on in the few puppies he has sired. Two out of a three-puppy litter already have points at six months or so, and Johanna has an older male who is very nice but, unfortunately, broke some teeth, so he probably won’t be shown. I don't think I could let you off the hook without asking you some questions about your Judging career. I hope you don't mind but I have a few questions. Why did you decide that you wanted to be a judge? I had studied the breed for 30 years and had had very good mentors and teachers, and there really aren’t that many judges out there with much historical or functional knowledge, and, besides, I was getting too gimpy to run around the ring much anymore. I am sure you are aware, AKC is adopting a Judging Conflict of Interest Policy effective January 1, 2007. AKC states that approved judges should not have a significant interest in another registry that is in direct conflict with AKC or be judging for another event-giving organization. How do you feel about it, and is it something that will affect you? It won’t have any affect on me. I’ve never been involved with any other registry, nor do I know the rationale behind alternative registries. I think it likely that they simply muddy the water. Do you think AKC requires enough education for people that want to become judges? And what do you think AKC could do to strengthen their education program for those that will become judges in the future? Well, I’d like to see all would-be Siberian judges at least take a ride on a good dog team and believe what they hear in our Judges Education Program at the Nationals. But, you know, if you come from one of the toy breeds, say, it’s a very long way to Siberians, and I think most breeds are judged in a pretty shallow, whimsical way. Do you feel poor judging is more a result of politics or that the judges are not educated well enough on the standard? Well, it’s a lot easier for most people to learn people than to learn dogs, so the wrong end of the lead often gets the attention both because of ignorance and politics.
How prevalent is politics in the ring today? .
Well, the dog world is a conglomerate of vested interests, and judging is subjective, so from a certain perspective everything is politics. Politics is almost always driven by money, and so is the dog world. There’s certainly a lot of bad judging, and part of the reason is no doubt political, though much is simply ignorance. But then, even ignorance has a political dimension.
What was the highlight of your Judging career?
It’s always a privilege to be asked to judge, and National Specialties are particular privileges.
I’ve judged Nationals in Italy, France and the U.S., and each had its own special qualities, but no doubt judging the breed at our National in ’04 offered me the opportunity to pick from the greatest number of quality animals. How did it feel to judge the Nationals in 2004? It was a very fulfilling experience. You know, you spend 30-plus years studying the breed, and then you find yourself in the center of the breed ring at a National, where most of the Siberian people you admire have stood at some point in their lives. It feels like a milestone. It feels like you have the opportunity to bring to bear everything you’ve ever learned in a single, concentrated event. But it’s also hard work that leaves you exhausted.
In every sport in the world (that I can think of), the main event is the most important of the day. As in tennis, the finals are the biggest crowd pleasers. Yet, in dogs, the Best in Show ring is the least watched ring. Why do you think that is?
Well, I think most all truly knowledgeable dog people would be happy to see all judging stop at the breed level. Group and BIS judging is mostly fluff and flimflam that has little to do with actually improving the quality of a breed, and in many ways it just muddies the water. I don’t care if my Siberian is better than your Boxer in someone’s estimation. It doesn’t really mean anything. So in my opinion, winning the Breed is equivalent to winning a tennis final. Winning BIS is more like those cross-sports competitions – can the best tennis player hit a golf ball farther than the best quarterback, etc. It’s sort of entertaining but not very meaningful.
And, of course, people are tired after dog shows and want to go home. So not too many stay around for the grand finale. It’s mostly a game for handlers. In fact, if you look around ringside at BIS time, it looks sort of like a casino at closing time when the exhausted staff is dividing up the winnings.
When judging, do you see noticeable differences in the Siberians in the East, West and Midwest?
No. Years ago, yes. Eastern Siberians were typy and sometimes a little cobby, mid-western ones were kind of big and hairy, and western ones were leggier, but now I see roughly the same range of animals around the country. Of course, you don’t have to judge very long before the observant exhibitors know what you like, so wherever I’m judging I tend to get a lot of fairly similar animals. And I think that’s probably the way it should be. Oh, I’m pretty comfortable with that, but you know, I almost never get asked that. Sometimes a novice will ask, but most experienced exhibitors will know from watching my judging why they didn’t win. They may think I’m crazy or stupid, but if they look at their dog and my Winners classes, they can usually see the difference. Of course, there are always those who claim it’s all politics whenever they don’t win. But they’re just the kind of white noise of dog shows – ever-present and vaguely annoying, like the static on a radio. You mentioned you have judged in France and Italy. How does the quality compare to the Siberians in the United States? Their numbers are much smaller than ours and the handling is generally much more casual. They also have fewer lines competing, that is to say, fewer Siberian families in the mix. But they certainly have some respectable specimens, along with the occasional animal who could compete anywhere. What are some of the most satisfying moments you have had judging in the ring? The most satisfying moment for me is when my winners classes come in and I can stand back and see roughly the same kind of animal in five or six versions – animals of approximately the same proportions and overall type. You know, it’s nice to be able to reward specimens you believe in, but I don’t think judging offers the same kind of “satisfying moments” that exhibiting does. It’s pretty hard work handling a large entry efficiently, and by the time I’ve judged about 100 dogs, I’m really quite tired – mentally tired – and that’s usually about the time that the really hard work begins. So the satisfaction that comes with judging is a lot less personal than the thrill that comes with winning. It’s really the overall quality of the entry that brings you satisfaction, but the flip-side of that is that you can only reward a very few animals, even though you may have seen six or eight that you’d like to give credit to. So the satifying days are those that end with you thinking, hey, the breed’s in pretty good shape and even my third and fourth placements in some classes were really animals of great merit. So, just as an exhibitor’s satisfaction on a given day depends on the judge, a judge’s satisfaction depends on the exhibitors and what they bring you. Is there anything left for you to accomplish in the breed? From an exhibiting standpoint, we have yet to take an all-breed BIS, but my yardstick of accomplishment tends to be the whelping box, and you can never produce TOO MANY good Siberians. To me, that’s the real art, and every truly superior youngster feels like an accomplishment. And, of course, you’re always looking for that one who is just a little better than its parents. And lastly, to leave us on an up note, tell us what is coming up for you this year? Well, I have what I think is a very good book of poems coming out, maybe two, and that’s something I’ve worked harder and longer on than even the dogs, but we also have several very promising breedings planned as well as several youngsters to be trained and gotten into the ring. Thank you very much for giving us so much of your time. It's been a pleasure. Well, thank YOU, both for the interest and the opportunity AND for the very good questions. And if I might just give one piece of advice to those starting out in this game: remember that competition is all well and good, but tribes always produce the best dogs. It’s cooperation that moves the breed ahead, and whatever my achievements, they’ve always been the result of patience and the help of many like-minded friends.
Breeder For additional information, you may contact Mike Jennings at Demavand's Siberians
M I C H A E L J E N N I N G S
The following interview was taken
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CH Demavand's Basra
CH Demavand's
CH Demavand's
Back, left to right
Front, left to right
CH Wildestar's Cat Ballou
Nationals
CH Demavand's Zola (BW)
CH Demavand's
CH Demavand's Kiev
CH Demavand's SHCA Nationals 2005
CH Demavand's SHCA Nationals 2005
Jack Steffen on the runners, Kiev and Cassio at wheel, Pontiac at left lead.
Studying Siberian families is more useful than studying individuals
The show ring is just a place to compare breeding stock
If you can "see" it, you can breed it, so study helps.
A good breeder is just a good pack leader who struggles to keep the pack strong and healthy.
To control the future, understand the past.
I
learn
something from my dogs almost every day.
The Siberian is a breed where often "less is more."
Breeding is an art more than a science, but there is science in it. |