Ben Reach no longer judged field trials, too old. But he had judged many, across the continent. His favorite was often punishing, due to its weather: The Quail Championship Invitational, run at Paducah, Kentucky, starting every Saturday after Thanksgiving.
The trial ran just three days, and for only twelve dogs, the top twelve who accepted the challenge based on their all-age Purina Points. The dogs ran an hour Saturday, then another hour Sunday with a different brace-mate and at the opposite time of day. Then for Monday the judges called back as many as they wanted to see in a two-hour heat, usually four or two dogs.
The four hours down of finalists were judged as one heat.
The Invitational had three judges, rather than the customary two, the third a professional handler. For the year in question that proved a blessing.
Some judges are sticklers for rules, and one of the three this long-remembered-by-Ben year at Paducah was of this persuasion. Ben preferred judges just concerned with picking the best performance, who lived by the adage, “Do not throw out the best job just to reward a clean but unexciting performance.”
In this case, the stickler judge wanted to throw out the best-job dog because he thought a scout had broken a rule. Ben, and fortunately the judge who was a pro handler, did not think the scout had broken a rule. It happened like this.
The eventual winner, chosen by a two-to-one vote (Ben’s and the pro-handler judge’s) was scouted by Booty Blevins, one of the last of the black scouts (most had lost their jobs years before because of the “helpin’ each other” practice, adopted by most handlers to save money). The third judge had voted against the dog Booty scouted because of a supposed rule-breach by Booty.
What had Booty done that the stickler judge found objectionable?
It happened like this. In the Monday two-hour brace of Booty’s dog (named Champion) and its brace-mate (named Runner-Up), the dogs were close together when they passed the Nuclear Plant that stood surrounded by chain link fence on the course. They then passed together through the grave yard near the Nuclear Plant and entered the long field with a highway adjoining on one side. Booty, riding behind the judges per the rules, saw the bracemate head on a long cast toward the highway, a very dangerous route because of no highway fence and fast traffic. Booty’s dog was visible to him, headed for the front on a safe-from-traffic route.
So Booty, ignoring the rule requiring him to ride behind the judges, lit out ahead of the judges to catch the bracemate dog before it could reach the highway. Booty was able to turn it to safety by calling, but he was riding two hundred yards in front of the judges when it turned toward safety.
Meanwhile, Booty’s dog had cast on a route that took it close to Booty, where it pointed. Booty saw it, and lifted his cap. Ben and the pro-handler judge rode to cover the point. The stickler judge was covering the bracemate.
When the two-hour braces were finished and the three judges conferred, the stickler judge wanted to deny the championship to Booty’s dog because Booty rode in front of the judges. Ben politely disagreed. The pro-handler judge was not so polite. He said, “You obviously never owned a dog headed for a highway saved by somebody riding to turn it.”
Note: dedicated to the memory of David Johnson