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