The National - Last Day

Swede William as a 4 month old puppy. Photo Laurie Erickson. All the rest of the photos are Lisa Winder's unless noted

Best of Breed ring. Tim Parsons photo -thanks Cindy and Tim

There were 126 Champions entered in Best of Breed.

Sixty-three dogs and sixty-three bitches. Then you add in the three dog Veteran class winners (7 - 10 years, 10-12 years, and greater than 12 years) and the three bitch Veteran class winners, the Racing dog and bitch, the Coursing dog and bitch, Winner's Dog and Winner's Bitch, and the move ups (dogs who finished their championships after the entries closed), and that ball room ring was packed with whippets. Beautiful, beautiful whippets.

The bitches left the ring, and then the dog handlers counted off into groups of twelve. Swede William would be in the fifth group. That would give Lee and Dee and Lisa time for a nice breakfast, and it would give me time to give all of the dogs some much needed exercise. They had been cooped up for eight days now. First I took Swede William and his two kids, Jabber and Alison. I ran. I managed a pace so that they were trotting about as fast as they could.

I am not not not a runner. I could probably walk from here to Minnesota. But run? No. I tend to hyperventilate and collapse and vomit and it's just not a pretty site. So you will understand my nervousness/excitement quotient when I tell you that not only did I run that group for a solid twenty minutes, but then I swapped out the puppies for Mia (Lindy Loo was tired from being in the ring so long the day before) and did it again!

I have to tell you a funny story. While I was running William and the puppies a friend who was walking her one dog called to me, "You're insane!"

"Well, yes, we know that, but why are you telling me now?"

"Not only do you bring little puppies to the National, you bring Senior Citizens!"

I hadn't brought any old dogs this trip, so I figured she meant Lee and Dee. I told them what she'd said. We laughed and laughed and laughed. My van is a fifteen passenger monster, with no running boards, so it sits way high up in the air. I pack an antique wooden step stool, and when Lee has to climb in or out we plop the stool down. The van is full of crates and an ex-pen (wouldn't want the dogs to be cramped) so there is only room for two passengers. With the addition of Lisa, the Queen of Sweden, Lee sat on the back bench seat, Dee sat on the antique stool, and the Queen rode shotgun.

I imagine we were quite the sight. Lisa climbing down from the front, with her huge backpack and her camera with its three foot lens. The side doors opening up and a little wooden stool plopping down, followed by Dee and then Lee. But the thought that somehow these "seniors" added a burden had us laughing hysterically. These 'seniors' who make sure I get my entries in, take my dogs to the vet when I'm at work and can't, took care of all the dogs while I was at the hospital twice this week, hold the SCREAMING MEEMIES ringside at every show, bring a cooler of food for us and the dogs, and on and on and on!

Anyway, it was time for Swede William to go into the ring. This was only the second time Lisa had gotten to see him since she bravely and generously sent him to me in September of 2006. Oh and remember how I had looked at Simmer and exclaimed, "SHE'S FAT!"? Well Lisa had shown a little more tact, but had basically looked at Swede William and said, "HE'S TOO THIN!" So William had gotten to eat like a king since Monday and was looking pretty good.

I had never shown to this judge before. I felt confident that she would not penalize Swede William for his color, but beyond that I didn't know. (He was, as far as I know, the only solid blue fawn entered out of 670 whippets.) But she is a breeder judge, and understands that our standard says 'color is immaterial'. Or so I hoped. I dearly wanted Lisa to see him look good in the ring, and make just one cut.

William loves to show. He has a blast but takes it seriously. He is a grand little dog! Lisa and Crystal had been giving me handling pointers. Because of that, I didn't mess him up as much as usual on the table.

He moved like ohhh he just glided. I felt good. We showed the judge and everyone there the best we had. Now we'd see if he'd make this one cut. After all of that group was examined and moved we lined up around the edge of the ring again. The judge walked over to William.

And pointed at him!!! Yes!!! We'd made the cut! We'd come back in! She brought all of her cuts of males back in. The ring was full again. William made another cut! Oh my word! He wasn't letting down. There was a break for a moment and I let him play with his squeaky rat.

We made another cut! And another!

And then the judge pointed at Swede William to go to the center. We had made the final cut of dogs. We would go back in with the final cut of bitches to be considered for Best of Breed!

Making the last cut of dogs. Swede William says, "Oh puh-lease try to look professional, you goofy Servant!"

We took William out to the van to rest, walked the others, and ate some lunch. (I guess. I honestly can't remember. I think Dee and Lisa probably walked the others. I think they brought the puppies and Mia in for some attention for a while. I was operating in a dreamy fog.) Good God. Swede William had made the final cut of dogs in Best of Breed at the National. Good loving sweet Lord.

We went back in with the final cut of bitches.

We were in the ring with dogs who had been in the Top Twenty competition Thursday night, but I only saw my William. Lisa's William. He should have been tired or fidgety, but he was being a pro. A star. Oh dear mother of whippets we made another cut.

I started tearing up. Was there another cut? If there was we made it. At a show as large as the National, the AKC allows the judge to give Awards of Merit. These are given to dogs who, at a normal sized show would be worthy of Best of Breed. Our entry was so huge that the maximum number would be given. Ten Awards of Merit.

The judge was moving the dogs in place. The Veteran Moxie, already twice Best of Breed at past Nationals would be Best of Breed for a record setting third time. My Canadian friend would be Best of Winners with the Winner's Dog. Another Veteran would be Best of Opposite. The Selects.

She pulled out her #1 Award of Merit. Her #2 Award of Merit. And then she pointed at Swede William.

No.

This was a crazy assed dream! NO!

Yes.

Swede William, CH Burnt Sienna Midsummer Night, JC, was #3 Award of Merit at the American Whippet Club National Specialty.

And Lisa was there to see it. How cool was that?

hug your hounds

The Many Benefits of Having Laurie as My Friend

Minnesooooooooota Laurie, that is. She just happens to be a talented photographer, as well as a kind, caring, understanding, funny, advice giving, dog training, always ready for a laugh or a hug friend. Oh I could go on forever but here's what I'm talking about today!


First, here's Laurie in a photo that her sister took. Laurie's on the left, then goofy me, then Laurie's 89 year old dad with whom I'm a little bit in love, watch out Bill! then Crystal who went with me to Minnesota (and to Sweden a couple of years ago if she looks familiar) and who was trying to snag Mr. Erickson with her blond hair and blue eyes and I had MY green eyes on her yes I did!

I digressed.

So, Laurie is this fantastic photographer. I get awesome show photos.


(Okay, if you look carefully, I'm trying to be a real pro by tossing the liver and catching it. But notice how the liver is bouncing off my wrist and will soon hit the ground? Yeah, I'm cool!!!)



Lindy Loo looking glamorous!

But then there are the candids. Oh my heart! Absolute TREASURES, and there are tons more. It's impossible to choose which to share so I just randomly picked some.



Sweet essence of Sam I Am

Mia - Oh breath-taking!

Swede William and Sam - pure art

More art - Lindy Loo in the sunshine

But then...

there's the risk ... well, remember how your mother told you if you made a face it might stick like that forever?

Oh boy!!!

LAURIE!!!!!

I sure am lucky. And she did formal portraits, too. Wait til you see them!!!

hug your friends and your hounds

Okay, so! Introducing...

CHAMPION
SWEDE
WILLIAM

Officially, CHAMPION Burnt Sienna Midsummer Night, JC

he was a little cutie patootie in Sweden

Now he can rest on his laurels ...


or his Lindy Loo!

Thanks and congrats to his breeder, Lisa in Sweden and thanks Laurie for these wonderful photos and the magical visit!!!

hug your hounds

The End of a Chapter

Spice and Easy

No melodrama.

No comments of what a great thing I did - no. It was my privilege.

I guess ten years ago, Carolyn and Greg asked me to be named in their will with two of their other friends to be responsible for placing their dogs should something happen to both of them. Sure I would and I was honored. I barely knew the other two friends at that point.

We never dreamed... Greg and Carolyn were my age. We were young.

A month before she died, Carolyn said she was just worried about her eldest two, Easy and Spice. They were old and had been together since birth. Easy had thyroid cancer and wasn't expected to live much longer. Could they stay with me when she - Carolyn - was gone? She just needed to know where they'd be.

Of course.

Easy wasn't expected to live beyond January of 2009. Spice on the other hand would be typical of Wistwind dogs and live well into her teens - fifteen, sixteen, even seventeen. But Spice got her own brain cancer, just like Carolyn, and suddenly she was gone.

That was purely awful. I mourned the loss of Carolyn and Greg afresh. And Spice, oh God had not made a sweeter being.

Easy kept right on. He slept on our bed. He played with squeak toys like a rowdy puppy. He rolled and rolled and rolled in the grass. He never felt bad, though his tumor kept growing.

I am saving up for a small used motor home. I want to take all the dogs when we go to dog shows. It is physically painful to leave the old dogs at home, but around here it's too hot for them even with the van tarped, and it's no fun for old dogs in a hotel room.

Last weekend I went on a long awaited trip to Minnesota. I picked up Crystal who had gone to Sweden with me and we talked and talked. I got to see my dear, wonderful friend Laurie (who takes these magical photos) in person - we talk on the phone every day. And I got to see Sam I Am's brother Rivet, and Lindy Loo's sister Simmer who live with Laurie. I got to see Laurie's 89 year old dad, with whom I am a little bit in love.

And we showed in a big giant Whippet show. Swede William was a star and a half and finished his Championship with a huge win: a five point major, which is as big as they come. But that was Saturday.

On Friday, Swede William was Reserve. It's an honor to be Reserve at a Specialty (it means next best, almost, dang close but no cigar), and I was thrilled. See, Swede William's color is very common in Europe, but not in this country. It's all due to silly fashion and prejudice. (The written whippet standard says famously, "Color is immaterial".)

Out of sixty-six whippets, Swede William was the ONLY blue fawn. So he has to be extra good and he was oh boy was he!

When I got done showing on Friday, I saw there was a message on my phone from Bill. Bill does not call me during the day at a dog show and my heart stiffened. I thought oh no Mama Pajama or Fat Charlie. I wished my heart would beat again because I didn't have any air.

I called Bill.

Easy? No! Easy? How? He had taken his walk in the morning, barked at a Stupid City Squirrel, wolfed down his breakfast of Cheerios, Grapenuts and yogurt and rolled in the yard. And he had had a grand mal seizure.

I bawled then when Bill told me. Bill had never had to take a dog in for that; he's a gentle soul and that is my responsibility. Easy was still groggy from the seizure and in fact was starting to seize again. So he was not a bit worried which was a blessing. There was no decision to make. But still. I wasn't there. I was at a dog show in Minnesota in my van with my very good friends and all those losses: Greg, Carolyn, Giacomino, Spice, then Martha, and now Easy. Woo-wee it was loud for a little bit, I sort of keened. I sort of forgot where I was; and luckily I was not ringside, but down by a kind soul's motorhome.

Arms were hugging me. They had all been there. They understood. But I got a grip.

Then Saturday morning Swede William won and that was all he needed to finish his championship. I have fun showing dogs, and I think it's important to be an ethical breeder. How horrid would it be to not have any whippets, or wire fox terriers, or collies, or papillons? But I don't live and breathe for championships. It's fun and a thrill and a challenge.

Well, when I was standing with Swede William, waiting for his Winners Dog ribbon, the dam broke. Maybe it was my imagination - of course it was - but I had this overwhelming sense of Carolyn's presence. Like she was right in front of me smiling, and Greg was sitting in his fold up chair, smiling too.

Here came the tears! Big snotty ones that aren't a bit pretty. What did everyone think? People didn't know about Easy, except for Laurie and Crystal and the motorhome friend. There I am standing with my dog who just had a big giant win for which I can take no credit (Lisa in Sweden, his breeder, gets all of that) and I'm just a-bawling snot bubbles. And there was Carolyn with a big grin. Just all around me.

Every time I looked at Easy I saw Carolyn. I often saw Greg and Spice, too, but every time I saw Carolyn. I think after you're dead that there are more important things than dog shows. Maybe Carolyn's presence had nothing at all to do with Swede William's win. Maybe I was finally saying goodbye.

Like I've closed the cover of a good book, hating to leave the characters. Knowing they'll stay with me, but not be a part of my every day anymore.

Carolyn and Greg

It was a great long friendship, and I've been much luckier than I deserved.

hug your hounds and your friends

The Williams

You may know that Swede William (here after referred to as "Swede William") was named after Grandson William (hereafter referred to as "Grandson William"). They have the same sunny, funny, deep intelligence and the same color hair.

Grandson William flew down from Chicago for a visit.

He inherited his Grampa's interest in art.

And as you can see, he inherited his Grampa's talent!

And his fashion sense ?????



Grandson William and Grampa made fettuccine from scratch. I was not home during this process and I understand there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of wrong amount of eggs... on Grampa's part, and the fettuccine was ultimately saved by the Grandson William's suggestion of the addition of some water. Plus apparently the extruder/roller thingy wouldn't clamp to the counter - it having belonged to Bill's mom and counters have changed since back then - and each time Grampa turned the crank, it bopped Grandson William on the head as he bravely struggled to hold the thing still. Crank, bonk, crank, bonk, crank, bonk!

They were still on speaking terms at the end, and I have to tell you that was the WORLD's BEST homemade pasta ever. It was so light and melt-in-your-mouth and it was definitely worth all those head bonks. (Yes, granted it wasn't my head getting bonked, but still ...)

Can you just see how perfect it tasted? oooooooohhhhh!

I bought a special cookie for the bonkee. Well he deserved it.

Grandson William's family doesn't have a dog. But Grandson William is one of those souls who 'gets' animal speak. He has since he was a baby. I was going to run out to the Kennel Club property and do a little agility practice with Sam, Swede William and Lindy Loo. Grandson William wanted to come along. Fun! He ended up running Sammy, and really doing a good job with him! Even the other two, who are just learning, did well. Sam did the jumps, tunnel, a-frame and tire for Grandson William.

Gramma Patience was having such a good time that she forgot to take any photos or video. Arrrrgh!!! So later that day we took Swede William out in the front yard. Look how naturally Grandson William handles Swede William. It's not like he EVER takes a dog by the collar in his regular life. Look how consistent and positive and quick with the treats he is!

Mind you, if I were telling Swede William "wait" and "over" during nap time when it was 101 degrees in the shade, I don't think I would have gotten as good results! He's a smart dog and a whippet to boot.

It was a wonderful visit!

hug your hounds

Bells a'Ringing !

My much admired Canadian blogging friend, Barry, has finished his Chemotherapy. There is a tradition in the Cancer Center where he is being treated: the client rings a big, brass bell after the infusion of his last Chemo. But for our beloved Barry, would just the one bell do?

No way!

On the actual day that he finished, hundreds of bloggers joined him and bells rang all over the world.

I am quite tardy, but I am also a charter member of the Better Late Than Never Club. As I read the blogs which I've missed during my work imposed, funk imposed, not-enough-hours-in-the-day imposed blog exile, I realised I needed to Ring a Bell, late or not!

So, I called on the Waggle to help, of course.

My charge nurse at my new job gave all of her crew a gift for Christmas. I was touched to be included, as I had only been on the floor for a couple of weeks. I received a cute little Santa doorknob decoration with a jingle bell.

Swede William was the first to learn that if he rang the bell when he wanted to go out, he got our attention faster. The rest soon caught on. So I imagine Santa will be a permanent fixture on the kitchen door!

Without further ado (and, unfortunately without the knowledge of how to edit these videos) Here are the BELLS FOR BARRY!!!

Hugs today are for Barry, Linda, and Lindsay!

Swede William is SO proud!

Of his country of origin:

hug your nekkid hounds and any Swedes you happen upon!

Swede William Speaks

[Regular readers of this blog will note that I rarely dare -- presume -- to put words into the whippets' mouths. But. Every rule is made to be broken.]



Ja. My world is topsy-turvy upside down. The crazy servant has flipped her big bottom and I suffer as a result. You read my saddest story and tell me what to do.

I am an honorable dog who loves the life, ja? You ask anyone, I love all. Strange hairy dogs hump me and do I bite? No I don't. I don't bark at doggy visitors outside our fence, no. Besides, I am the best show dog ever, see this?

Oh the handsomeness of me. See the Judge? He is saying, "Never have I seen such an excellent example of whippet perfection!" He was so overwhelmed he nearly fainted. And the servant. Just look at her beaming with happiness and pride and big belly bursting. Ja. Swede William you're so wonderful. I hear that all the time from the wacko.

Now, recently our servant has got some kind of lostheimer's disease. She does not wait for me to gently wake her up with my lovely songs to make us breakfast. No. Now the dumma feta kossa gets up before light and leaves us. Day after day. And then she can't find her way back to us until long after dark.

It is a great concern.

So, being a good kind dog I try to help. I mark my glorious essence all over the house so she can smell her way home. Does she say Oh Swede William I thank you for your generous sacrifice of your precious bodily fluid for my safety and well-being? Does she say that? NO!

She puts a torture bucking strap on my private delicious parts!!! (Hide the young puppies' eyes from this next photo which will make their dreams too frightening.)

First it was every dog with a winky. Now it is just me. The torture.

And then last night when she went to teach MY class at MY Kennel Club and FORGOT TO TAKE ME, once again I did my best even with the bucking strap around my marvelousness to help her find her way home. I marked upstairs and down, soaking the torturous madness fastened around my spectacular bits.

Did she thank me for my efforts?

No she did not. She showed me where my helpful fluids were decoratively sprinkled. And she flipped out. I haven't seen such abominable behavior since I suggested to Luciano that he share his rawhide chewy. She told me it was unacceptable. That I knew better, dammit. That This has to stop.

Here I am with my head on her enormous hind leg. I tried to tell her I was trying to help. My girlfriend, Teka, pointed out that for all anyone knew Luciano could be getting back at me for that chewy incident and he could be peeing on my bucking strap to incriminate my perfectly innocent Swedish self.


I have one thing I would like to say to the servant.

I don't know how to say it in English, but in Swedish it is phhhfffftttt!! And there is wetness involved.

Oh I won't because I am a good dog. But how do I let my servant know that her being lost is unacceptable. That she knows better, dammit. That This has to stop.

What's a dog to do?

hump your humans, especially the lostheimers ones

Well

I just this minute turned around and snapped that photo. Swede William snoozing in his belly band.

I made all of the male dogs in my house belly bands. Someone believed that, given the record cold temps and my blatant dereliction of my dog servant duties (leaving for work and not returning for thirteen hours), someone had indoor potty privileges. Even though Bill was home and was letting them out every two hours. So I made belly bands.

Now, I had my suspicions. I thought I knew which of the five boys were being naughty. I'd look all squinty-eyed at the presumed guilty. "Did you pee in the house?" I'd growl. "I don't like that." The accused would slink away, affirming my presumptions.

Wrong.

After the wearing of the belly bands for several days, only one got wet. Repeatedly. The one I would have never. ever guessed.

I'm not going to embarrass the one who actually has been lifting his beige Scandinavian leg all over our house by naming him here. I wouldn't do that. But I must publicly apologise to Fat Charlie, Easy, Luciano, and Sam I Am for ever doubting them. They don't have to wear belly bands any more.

I once heard a saying that if it has tires or testicles it's going to be trouble. There's only one dog with testicles in this house. (Bill likes me to specify "DOG" when I make that statement.)

Hmm.

Hug your hounds, even the very naughty beige ones

Friday My Town Shoot Out - Birds

Well, the topic for this week's My Town Shoot Out had me stumped.




Birds.



Paducah isn't known for its birds. There is a lovely Great Blue Heron that hangs around the river, but I don't have any fantastic shots of him.

Hmmm.

Then I had a thought.


We do have creatures capable of flight in Paducah.

Emmett

and Swede William.

Hug your hounds

Here we are!

Emmett

Playing catch up.

I've got some orders to get out: thank you wonderful people who are buying my book! You know how in that James Stewart Christmas classic movie every time a bell rings an angel gets wings? Well, for me, every time a book sells, I feel like I can fly. Just for a second.

But it feels great, so thank you.

We went to a dog show on Sunday and had a blast. All three dogs showed like pros! Emmett went first, and did better than I imagined he would. His Heather was home - baby Ben's little brother is due in four weeks, but that wasn't why. Ben's daddy had to work, so Heather had a day with Ben, just the two of them. My great and generous friend Dee (of Lee and Dee fame) went with me, packing a yummy lunch to eat on the way, to hold dogs ringside and be excellent company on the SIX hours - three up, three back - of fascinating southern Illinois Interstate.

So Emmett had to go first, and didn't have his Heather to cheer him on, but he was a brave and happy and wonderful boy. No stage fright for him! Then it was Swede William's turn and he gave me goosebumps. Not so much the judge, though, who apparently got indigestion from William's glorious Swedish color. Dee reported hearing collective ooooh's and aaaaah's from the whippet folks ringside, which is gratifying.

Lindy Loo, who is the worst little fussbudget when we practice, was showier than a Rockette! She stood like a statue, arched her neck, cocked her head at the judge and moved like a dream. I couldn't help smiling - okay, beaming - at her. She had a blast.

These three dogs just love to show, and that makes it so much fun for me. Plus I got to see some friends who I haven't seen forever. Dee and I got home to Bill and Lee enjoying wine and cheese in our kitchen while Bill made a signature pasta dish - oooooh sun dried tomatoes artichoke hearts shrimp wine and cream sauce ohhhhhh ahhhhhh. It was just a great day. I was asleep under a pile of whippets by 8:30.

Work is going fine. (Although you've noticed it cuts into my blog time something fierce.) Bill is doing a heroic job of being primary dog servant. I am so enjoying giving patient care again: it is such a special privilege. I don't have the time to devote right this minute, but in another post I'll talk about that. The gift of caring for people.

And I'm having a blast getting to know the staff of the floor where I'm working. It's a delightful, fun, energetic, responsible, cooperative group of people. They help each other, and they put their patients first. That makes for a rewarding work environment. My preceptor is a very good nurse. So young! More on that in another post, too.

It's a busy day. The Paducah Kennel Club Christmas Party is tonight. No rest for the weary!



Hug your hounds - it's good to 'see' you!

Helpful Ben Takes A Hike

You all met helpful Ben before when he threw a party for Lindy Loo and her brother, Emmett. Well, Ben is still helpful and he thought that Lindy Loo and Swede William, and especially their old servant Patience might need to get out of the city and take a hike.

So he helped his mom Heather get all ready, and he even wore his big boy underpants. He brought his Old Dog Edgar, and his Young Dog Emmett, who is Ben's good friend. Ben helped print out the directions and the whole kit and caboodle headed north to Ferne Cliffe State Park, in Illinois.

Before they all started hiking, Ben peed right on a leaf and the grass. (It was okay, because we were in Nature, not in civilization.) That was very helpful. His mom was glad that he did not need to change clothes.


Once they started hiking in earnest, (they were in Illinois, but they were also earnest), Ben realized that the stroller was going to be a lot lighter without a Ben in it. "I'll walk," he said. And he did. The whole way.

Ben grabbed his mommy's hand and helped her escape from being squished on the head by a giant tree!

Ben helped his mommy from tipping over when he showed her the cool stuff. Ben's mommy is a little tippy these days, since his baby brother is taking up a lot of room in her belly.

Ben was showing his mommy the gargantuan rock. Ben's mommy smacked her own forehead in disbelief and amazement.

Ben helped his mommy and his baby brother and his Old Dog Edgar and his Young Dog Emmett who is his friend through the muddy slippery part. He held on extra tight, which helped his mommy be extra brave.

They made it! They thought this was where Ferne Cliffe State Park got its Ferne Cliffe name, though they didn't know where the extra ees (Ferne Cliffe) came from. This cliff was covered with ferns. (You can click to enlarge and use your back button to come back. Ben said so.)

Ben helped his baby brother feel like he was part of the gang by sitting on him!

Ben helped show his mommy and his dogs the way.

Then Ben showed his mommy the slimy stuff under the biggest rock in the world. Young Dog Emmett didn't care to see, and Old Dog Edgar thought they should have a snack.

Ben helped by posing handsomely in front of a Big Dark Crevice. Ben is not only helpful. Ben is brave.

Ben realized that his Old Dog Edgar was thinking about a little snack. He gave each dog a dog treat, and then got out the graham crackers. He gave each dog a graham cracker, and then he gave his mommy one (who shared it with his brother in her belly) and he even gave Lindy Loo and William's old servant two! (Maybe three, but who was counting.)

This will be hard for you to believe, but Ben went down all of those wooden steps far away, and then he went up all of these wooden steps right here, by himself without help! Yes, that's right, he did. His mommy and Lindy Loo and William's servant carried the stroller down and up and Emmett the Young Dog decided this was an opportune time to try to romance his sister Lindy Loo. He got a head bop from Lindy Loo's servant. He decided it was a bad idea after all.

Ben even made his own sandwich in the picnic place after that long hilly hike. He ran up and down the hill and helped lead his Old Dog Edgar back to the car.

On the long ride home, Ben sang his A B C's and 1 2 3's and made everyone in the car just a little smarter.

Anyone who got to take a hike with helpful Ben is lucky lucky lucky, and they know it.

hug your hounds and any helpful Bens you know!