On the opening night of
obedience class in 1990, my soon to be husband and our blue chow chow, The
Queen of Sheba joined the line at the registration table in the front of
the tobacco warehouse. Looking around, Mike noticed a wide variety of
dogs, the instructor's sheltie, a toy poodle, several mixes, his friend
John and his black lab, and a basenji. As his turn came to sign in, the
instructor commented on how beautiful Sheba was but then she tried to warn
Mike saying, “I hate to take your money because Chows really don't do
very well in obedience.”
Since Mike knew that Sheba was the smartest dog in the world and that
she loved him beyond measure, he just smiled and replied, “That's okay.
Sheba will do fine.”
The previous spring, Mike and I decided that since we each had children
from previous marriages, we wanted “a together dog.” Since we would
never be able to have a child of our own, Sheba was our baby; even
though, I must admit that at first she looked kind of like a little blue
ground hog. When Valentine's Day rolled around, I decided to give Mike and
Sheba obedience training. Oh, I knew that Sheba would do fine, but I was
hoping that some of the training would rub off on Mike. I am his third
wife, after all.
As the classes progressed
each week, Sheba went about her quiet business of learning the commands
and doing everything that Mike asked. In that regal way she had, Sheba sat
beside Mike and watched the instructor and her sheltie demonstrate each
command then watched other students work, including John and the black lab
Tootie. Fortunately, she did not try to imitate Tootie because he never
did get the idea of “Heel.” Instead, when John said, “Heel”,
Tootie reared up, planted his paws on John's shoulders, and the two of
them did a strange tango down the floor.
Of course as well as being
too stubborn for obedience, chows like to fight with other dogs. Right?
Well, the only problem Sheba had getting along with the other dogs was the
basenji. That boy was really aggressive to all the other dogs. Each week,
he picked a new dog to bully, until he challenged Sheba. She did not
fight, but in her ladylike way, she backed him up and sat him on his
haunches. He might have thought he was Mr. Macho, but Sheba was the Queen
of Dogdom.
On graduation night, I sat with the
other Moms and Dads and watched the class graduates go through their paces
in the final exam. We all had one last laugh as John and Tootie did their
modified tango-promenade version of “Heel,” and applauded them and all
the other pairs. When Mike and Sheba performed, they were flawless,
looking like a perfect team. Finally, the instructor announced the awards
for the class, most improved, most spirited, etc. The last award was for
the most Outstanding Student, and the winner was…Sheba!
I will have to admit that after that night, Sheba never did a true “Down.”
She obeyed all other commands for ever after, except “Down.” But when
I think about it, a queen does not lower herself for anyone.
Marsha Franklin
