Dream Boy, what a silly name some people said. But what else could I call you? Your beautiful mother was taken from us so suddenly, without any warning. I just kept thinking, "He's Dream's Boy", and that just became your name. And it ended up suiting you. You were so much like your beautiful mother, even in the way you laid with your front legs crossed. But don't think I loved you just because of my love for your mother. No, you were special all on your own. You had your mother's beauty, grace and joy of life, that's true. But you also had a slightly arrogant attitude, you stood strong and that strength showed through. You were a gentleman at all times, preferring to ask for what you wanted but always fully expecting to get it. I admit I encouraged you in that. You just knew life was good.

When I received the call telling me you went BOS at your first show, I was ecstatic! Perhaps I could do for you what I couldn't do for your mother. And with the help of your handler, Debbie, you acquired all of your single points so quickly, going BOS over multiple specials on several occasions. I was and am so proud of you.

But alas a championship was not meant to be. After you had all your singles, you traveled seeking majors. It just didn't happen. I know it wasn't your fault. You did a wonderful job. And your handler was as good as most and better than many. But she was not well known and the show ring can be a somewhat close knit community. I'm sure if we had put enough time and money into showing you, you would have made it. But enough was enough and I missed you. You were a pet first and a show dog second. I guess if I had it to do over again I might handle the situation differently. But your homecoming was joyous.

I'm not a handler and don't belong in the ring. I do better home taking care of my four legged friends, you know that. But when the time came to cut your coat back to a pet length, I found I just couldn't do it. So off to a match we went. I worked so hard on your grooming. I wanted you to look perfect. And you did. You went into the group with a big dog in front of you and an even bigger one at your rear. You came home with the Best In Match ribbon and I cried as I cut you down.

I left on my first vacation in 5 years, leaving you with who I thought was a responsible person. I left on Christmas eve and the morning after Christmas I received a phone call tellimg me you were found dead in your crate. Healthy dogs don't just lie down and die. I'll never know what happened to you, my Dream Boy. I never saw your body. I didn't get to say goodbye. My guilt will stay with me forever.

I placed my breeding dogs in nice pet homes and threw myself into my grooming shop. It took me years to come to some kind of terms with your death. The pain of losing you is with me still, always will be.

You taught me so much. One of the important things is that I'll never enter a dog in a show until he is a champion in my mind. I was so proud of you when you won, but better still, I was proud of you when you didn't. You were a wonderful, wonderful dog; a true friend and I was the winner just taking you home with me. I wouldn't have traded you for any champion out there. In my mind, you were a champion. You still are.

Well, I'm trying to get back "into dogs" again. You are my inspiration. No amount of pleading could get me one of your daughters, believe me, I tried. But I do have your granddaughter, she's not you, she never will be. But with God's help and a lot of perserverence, I hope to bring out more of your qualities. I know if you were here, you would strut around in a circle, throw your head back, and with a quiet little yap, tell me-"Go for it Mom."

Until we meet again, my friend, strut your stuff, but occasionally look around, for one day I will be there.