Dust and Nostalgia
Today I took my old box of show catalogs out to the recycling bin. This was not an easy decision, the walk outside seemed long and I felt a pang of guilt when I dumped them in the big blue container. Though the vast majority were over 10 years old, the symbolism they held was strong. The dusty little softbound treasures told the story of how my life in dog shows began. Show catalogs are how a novice like me gathered information about judges and started to understand how the whole game worked.
To honor all this, I had to say a proper goodbye. As I leafed through the pages I recalled the Danes of yesteryear: "Remember that fawn special, wasn’t he nice?" The people: "I wonder what ever happened to Barb, the born-again Christian who showed her own Dane at age 66 and encouraged you to get saved in the nicest possible way?" The funny stories: "Remember the Yakima Valley show in ‘93? That’s when Chevy jumped out of the ring on the go ’round, then jumped back in again." I smiled at all these recollections, pulled out a few special volumes, and put the lid back on the box.
The frugal side of me fought to hold onto the investment, "Alison, you paid between $4 and $6 a piece for these when you could hardly afford it. Now you’re getting rid of them?!" But the reality is the catalogs were only pleasant reminders and amounted to one more box of old stuff that no one else would really want.
I was sad to see them go, but I realized I don’t need the catalogs themselves to remember what I have learned and appreciate the lavish return on my investment.
