The words reverberate, the lone sound in the silence that surrounds them. Still echoing, till mocking me, they stubbornly refuse to fade and die. Did I really just say those words? “Yes you did,” the echo reminds me. The silence which follows the faux pas is deafening. Then the realization hits. Most of us have probably blurted out something before thinking. What happens next is up to you. Depending on the company and context, you can blunder on and hope the goof up was unnoticed. Or, if warranted, you can apologize. Or, if funny, you can laugh along with everyone else and accept the fact that you’re not perfect. Like others, I’ve had my share of misspoken words.
One instance that will live in my mind, as long as it’s still working, happened a few years back at a dog show. I had stopped to talk with someone about her dogs and inquire about a close friend of hers who was fighting a losing battle with cancer. “She’s here,“ the friend said, “Jen wanted to see one last dog show so I brought her. Why don’t you go over and say hello?” Jen sat in a wheelchair on the other side of the ring, a sad sight with her skin mustard-colored, a scarf tied around her head. Hesitating, I wondered what I could possibly say to her and then I remembered her friend telling me about a superb puppy they had just imported. It was an innocuous subject, something happy to discuss. So I approached, exchanged greetings and then cheerily said, “I hear you’ve got a puppy that’s to die for!” Open mouth, insert foot.
It’s bad enough to say the wrong thing to one person, but how about if you say it to a packed audience? The event was one in which, as MC, I introduced various dog breeds on stage and told a little about each one. The multi-talented Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and his breeder stood beside me on the stage as I described the way the dog worked and how it got its name by luring (known as ‘tolling’) swimming ducks to within range of the hunters’ guns by playing games along the shore to provoke their curiosity. “And then,” I continued, “when the ducks swim close enough, the hunter stands up in the blind and shoots the dog.” The words hung in the air for a moment and then the audience realize the slip and burst into laughter. It didn’t help when the breeder, with a mischievious grin, commented into the mike, “Hunting sure is tough on the breed, but we sell a lot of puppies that way.”
The scene for this next fiasco was a Beardie specialty in Canada many years ago. A group had gathered to chat and a man I knew asked, “Alice, have you ever met Ian Noseworthy?” as he indicted the smilng gentleman beside him. No, I hadn’t met Ian but I knew he had a handsome Beardie who had done some impressive winning so his name was familiar and you’ve got to admit, his last name was certainly memorable. (Personally, I thought it was a name better suited to a Bloodhound owner.) So I turned to Ian with a smile and said, “I know we’ve never met in person, but I’ve heard your nose so often.” As I blushed beet red, Ian said, “I bet you’ll never forget my name now.” And he was right.
— alice bixler, Bearded Collie Club of America.
(December 2021)
