RIPLEY OCHOA CDX AX AXJ NAP NJP FDCH CGC

Photo by Pat Reynolds.

Baby Ripley and Lynn O'Keefe's Skye.

In December of 1994, I adopted Oliver from the local shelter. Ollie was my first BC, and the VERY best of all dogs anywhere. I was quickly hooked on BC temperament, particularly as I met more and more of them in my travels. I'd been doing some fostering of hard-to-place dogs for my local humane society, and when my friend Billy Trent mentioned to me that sometimes BCs needed rescuing too, I happily agreed to help her as well.

In the spring of 1996, I got a call from Billy. A five-week-old BC pup had been found in a box in a local park (along with several other puppies of various breeds). This puppy was originally fostered by IBCR partner Lynn O'Keefe, but her family quickly became too attached to it, and she asked Billy to find another foster home ASAP, since the family was in no position to have a permanent pup at the time. Billy called me, and I (foolishly!) said, "oh, no problem, of course I'll take her in!"

Ripley at about a year old.

A couple of nights later, Billy showed up with a little black fluffball that could sit in the palm of my hand. We turned it loose on the floor, where it immediately ran over and grabbed Archie the Doberman's ear and started pulling. Archie got up from the floor and walked away with the furball swinging gently from his ear.

She was the CUTEST little thing! And sooooo smart it was scary. I started out with the idea that she should get some basic training while I had her, and by the end of a week or so she was sitting on command, downing on command, coming when she was called, retrieving a ball (which was almost bigger than she was), walking nicely on a lead, and hitting a flyball box. (This last was unintentional, I was showing the box to Archie while she was in the room hiding under the couch, and she picked it up before he did -- she came zooming out of nowhere and slammed the box, grabbed the ball and disappeared under the bookcase). A couple of weeks went by with no potential home in sight, and I started getting a little pickier -- at first, any good home would do, then it became "well, they'd better be prepared to do some things with her because she's got lots of potential," then it became "they'd better be prepared to do some things with her and let her sleep on the bed when she's old enough," etc.
Ripley with Ollie at her first flyball tournament.	Ripley playing flyball. Photo by Tom Schaefges. See Tom's website!	Ripley on the way to her first AXJ leg and first place at the BCSA National Specialty, October 2002. Photo by Pat Reynolds
Then I went to a flyball tournament with Ollie, and several people asked me about my little foster dog. Of course, I gave a glowing account of her puppy accomplishments, and all the things I expected her new home to do with her; in response, I got, "you have this puppy in your house that does all these things and you're LOOKING FOR A HOME FOR HER?! ARE YOU NUTS?!!!" So I gave it some thought, and decided the team was right -- I *was* nuts to be thinking about giving her up. I don't make it a practice to keep my fosters (she's only the second foster I'd ever kept in something like 20 years), but there was just something about her that I couldn't resist.

I named her Ripley after the Sigourney Weaver character in the Alien flicks -- those aliens would have run like hell from the little shark =) Time has not diminished her cuteness; she's still a little bitch (~17" tall) and people are surprised when they hear she's over eight years old. She still looks like a puppy. Her confidence level is unsurpassed -- she's convinced that she is THE reason the universe exists, an attitude that is reinforced by all the attention she gets when she's out in public =) She's got more personality in her left hind foot than most dogs have in their entire bodies -- a fact that hasn't helped her obedience and flyball careers all that much, but we love her for it. She's a definite sucker for a male face -- she loves me just fine, but let Suckerdaddy Pat (or any other man) show up anywhere in her vicinity and be prepared for lots of eyelash-batting and swishy-tail before she flops over on her back so her belly can be rubbed. Her favorite activity is sitting on the couch with her Suckerdaddy, explaining to him how she really NEEDS to help him finish off his ice cream, but I drag her off the couch and into the ring when I don't have anyone else ready to show. She's done very well indeed in this role, far surpassing any expectation I might ever have had of her. She likes flyball and agility and obedience just fine, but the activity she loves most in the world is tracking, and she's pretty good at it. Presumably, one of these days I'll get around to having her certified so she and Suckerdaddy Pat can put a TD after her name. I have several young dogs to play with these days, but I still like to drag her off the couch and make her do things, simply because when she's on, she can be a LOT of fun to show. (When she's NOT on, all bets are off!) With her AKC Excellent titles in hand, she is pretty much retired from agility, though we'll be out playing in Preferred from time to time, and I am focusing more on obedience with her. She finished her CDX in June 2004, and she is working in Utility. Suckerdaddy Pat is also showing willingness to take her to see sheep, so we will see where that leads us as well.

She's still the smartest dog in the house -- not the best behaved, not the most trainable of the bunch, but definitely the smartest. She comes up with all kinds of creative little games of her own (and occasionally she comes up with something I wish she hadn't thought of!), but let someone else besides me ask her to do something and they get, "YOU'RE not my mom, and I don't have to do what you say, so there!" Heck, every now and then *I* get this attitude =) And yes, she does indeed sleep on the bed every night.

Ripley being Daddy's Girl. Photo by Now and Then Video.

Eight years later, I can still remember why I decided to keep her -- and for all her little quirks and smirks, I can't imagine my house without her. We love the little twerp.