Not just a brag, not just a stepping stone to a higher title, not
just an adjunct to competitive scores, a title is a tribute to the dog that
bears it, a way to honor the dog, an ultimate memorial. It will remain
in record and in memory for as long as anything in this world can
remain. Few humans will do as well or better in that regard.
And though the dog itself doesn’t know or care that its achievements
have been noted, a title says many things in the world of humans,
where such things count.
A title says your dog was intelligent and adaptable, and good-natured.
It says that your dog loved you enough to do the things that please
you, however crazy they may have sometimes seemed.
And a title says that you loved your dog, that you loved to spend time
with it because it was a good dog, that you believed in it enough to
give it yet another chance when it failed, and that, in the end, your
faith was justified.
A title proves that your dog inspired you to that special relationship
enjoyed by so few; that in a world of disposable creatures, this dog
with a title was greatly loved, and loved greatly in return.
And when that dear short life is over, the title remains as a memorial
of the finest kind, the best you can give to a deserving friend,
volumes of pride in one small set of initials before or after the
A title earned is nothing less than love and respect, given and
received, and permanently recorded.