The Elephant Outside the Ring
In the world of dog shows, there sure is no shortage of… Well, just that - dog shows, along with ribbons, rankings, records, and recognition. As competitors, we all strive to do well and leave a mark with our dogs and our breeding programs. But should the mark of a good competitor be how much they win, and how quickly they check off accolades? Or is it better measured by how they carry themselves and how they treat their peers well after the show is over?
Social media has brought new advantages to the sport, from instant results - many times in the form of “pet pictures” - to livestreams that let those unable to attend still feel like a part of the shows. The moment a judge points, wins are posted, photos are shared, and things go viral. But alongside the advantages and celebrations, it has brought us to see a more toxic side of sportsmanship. While most of us stay grounded, we all occasionally have a less-than-graceful reaction, but we usually catch ourselves before long.
The behavior we are experiencing goes further than that and it is alarming how it is becoming more and more socially accepted to make things unnecessarily hostile and, at times, downright childish. We’ve all seen the jealous and passive-aggressive posts, the public criticisms disguised as “honest opinions,” the selective shoutouts, sideway comments, and even memes.
There’s nothing more disheartening, or frankly, more unprofessional, than watching respected names, including judges, publicly trash each other’s dogs, breeding programs, or even personal lives on social media. None of it elevates the sport. In fact, it does the opposite. It doesn’t make anyone look credible or make the community feel welcoming. It creates a space that feels more hostile than inclusive. It makes the entire community look petty.
On social media, it’s tempting to react in the heat of the moment. But a comment made while angry or disappointed can destroy a reputation faster than a dog can blow a free stack when you drop the bait. What you say publicly becomes part of your brand - your breeding program, your name, your credibility. And to those watching from the outside, especially newcomers, it sends a message about the culture of our sport.
True sportsmanship is based in many things. But perhaps security is a major one of them. This means clapping for someone else’s dog, even when it stings that it wasn’t your day. It means recognizing that a judge’s decision is just that - an opinion, not a personal attack. It means knowing that someone else’s win doesn’t diminish your worth.
The reality is that when you’re in a good place with your life, your breeding program, your goals, your confidence, then there’s no need to tear anyone else down.
Do we want to be remembered for the grace and class we showed, or the bitterness we broadcasted?
The culture of our sport, not only welcomed me from the start, but it shaped me. It taught me how to be a better breeder, a better exhibitor, and most of all, a better person. I carry those lessons with me every time I walk into a ring or talk to someone about their new puppy.
Do we want to build a community that welcomes, mentors, and helps? Or one that allows toxic, insecure posts to become the social proof of good sportsmanship?
If we don’t do better, who will?
