Les montagnes serbes sarplaninac

LES MONTAGNES SERBES

OD SRPSKIH PLANINA

AGAIN WITHOUT A MALE

Zoé delivered her, and at the same time our, first litter on 8.02.1984, on the day of the opening of the Winter Olympic Games in Sarajevo. As we were novices in kinology (I did not even know which organization in Belgium administers kinology), I looked up in the telephone directory the address of the Kennel Club and registered our litter with them. I was not familiar with the rules regarding the names; I thus named the pups using "V" as the first letter, after Vucko, the mascot of the Olympic games. Only a couple of years latter did I realize that we joined the club of dissidents. For the same reason, I had some problems later on.
We decided to rear six out of ten pups Zoé delivered. Even that number proved to be too large and we had considerable difficulty finding homes for all pups, as this breed was totally unknown in Belgium at that time. Four of the pups found good homes, but for one, the most beautiful female, we could not locate the interested customer. Finally, I had to sell her at the market, when she was already pretty big. This proved to be a fatal mistake, as this beautiful, large, dark-haired female disappeared from the backyard of her owner as soon as she was one year old. They never explained what happened to the dog. Whether they left her ill, and probably without vaccination, somewhere on the street or they gave her to someone, will forever remain a mystery for us. The most ransom male, Vucko, stayed with us, since we could not find a customer for him either.

When he was 18 months old , he begun to tease Dadash in an attempt to assert his dominance. They engaged in a vicious confrontation, resulting in terrible injuries for both males. Following that incident, Vucko acted submissively towards Dadash, who no longer paid any attention to him? We had to separate them.

In August of 1985 we managed to sell Vucko to an older couple who took care of him with lots of love until the end of his life. As we drove him to his new owners, I could not see the road from tears and sorrow.

In the fall of 1985 Dadash begun to limp on his back left leg.

We took him to my colleague veterinarian, in an affluent part of Liege, with the aim to obtain an x-ray of his hips. This veterinarian talked about a variety of things, for the most part about a new x-ray machine he hoped to acquire with my help, knowing that I was a medical doctor at the University clinic. He anesthetized the dog and, before he had a chance to take the x-ray, I noticed in shock that the dog was no longer breathing. It turned out that the veterinarian neither had resuscitation devices or oxygen, nor did he know how to administer the intracardiac adrenaline. It appeared as if he was not sure where the heart was located ! He did not even weigh the dog, and I am positive that he gave him a too large dose of the anesthetic. We left the clinic devastated, an inexperienced veterinarian killed a 4 and-a-half year old dog. At that time, he needed only one CAC to become the champion of Belgium. This happened in December, right before our Slava and other major holidays. We lost the will to do anything. I did not mention that right before Zoé and Dilbash, we acquired another young male, Acim, our first male, whom we lost when he was two years old.

He was killed by a truck on the main road, as he failed to listen to my command to come back after I let him loose to run a little around. These heart-breaking events were too overwhelming even for a person of a much harder heart than ours. In June of 1986, we began an expedition to acquire a new, adult male. We lined up addresses of potential interest through my mother, who took it upon herself to attend dog shows and inquire about the dogs. The road took us first to Slavonska Pozega, to Ljubomir Kekanovic. On our way from Belgium, we were running a little late and we therefore missed him, as he took off for a show in Hungary. His wife showed us the dogs. None impressed us. We were under the impression that they were all absolutely alike. Our dogs also look similar, but nevertheless each one has his own characteristics. The offspring was undoubtedly homogeneous, the goal of many breathers has been fulfilled here 100%, but exactly that turned us off.


Our journey continued toward Dubrovnik. There we visited the breeders Nade Glavinovic and Misa Juretic. They had only one male and that one of poor quality. He had a sagging back and other defects.

Their best bitch was Dezi of Mirba, champion of Yugoslavia, but at that time she had a litter and was in poor condition. The only beautiful animal was her sister Dona of Mirba.

I even took her down the streets of Dubrovnik where we will most likely, given the circumstances, never return again. We will never again walk down the smooth stones of Stradun, Tvrdjava,

Knez Palace, churches; all of these are now only beautiful, remote memories.

Somewhat later, through our mediation, Dona arrived in Belgium to the breeder Daniel Vasanne and stated a wonderful show career.

The road took us further across Cakor into Sandzak, and on into Prokuplje. There, the breeder Stanisic had a 2 and-a-half year old male, Egor. He was interested in selling him, albeit for a considerable price. Egor was very ransom, tall, of very dark color, with beautiful coat, of a somewhat lighter built, but we did not like his gate; he stepped like a "little lady" and had a very short-gated trot. He was a pretty sharp dog. Since there was to be a dog show in Nis in the near future, we arranged with Stanisic to attend the show and witness the victory of Egor.
However, Egor got the second place after Sem of Ljubomir and, for that matter, precisely because of the way he walked. Sem was an exceptionally beautiful dog, very different from the dogs we observed at the breeder's home, perhaps also because he was older and of a darker coat, but at that time he was not for sale.
In Nis, we got to know a whole group of breeders of Sarplaninac and learned that "Uca" owned a nice two-year-old dog. He did not intend to sell him, however after he understood that we came from abroad, he begun to reconsider. We thus arranged to visit his village near Topola to see the dog.

On our way to Belgrade, we had one more address that my mother acquired from Voja Anastasijevic, a long-standing breeder and judge for this dog breed. As we found out, this was again a two-year-old dog, Laki, in Dosljak in Kaludjerica.

Laki was exceptionally attractive. He was a large, gay, and ransom dog, who walked very well. However, we had difficulty examining his teeth, and finally we did not succeed in seeing them. He had somewhat lighter eyes. As another person familiar with the race joined us, he started to praise the dog so much, that his insistence turned us off and we left. We learned later on that this has been Obrad Skipic.As we discussed this with uncle Voja, one year later, he told us that Laki was more beautiful than Arap. When I asked why did then Arap do better at the show than Laki, we were told that this was because the judge was not able to check Laki's teeth. After a while we learned that Laki has a teeth abnormality and that the "well-wishing dog lovers" used to extinguish their cigarette buts on his gums to train him not to open his mouth.

During the following days we visited the village Krcevac near Topola. Above Topola lies Oplenac harboring a historic landmark, the church of St. John (Sv. Djordje), a foundation of the King Petar I. The church has six steeples, is lined outside with white marble, while its interior is decorated in mosaic. Except for the King Petar II, the church harbors the tombs of all members of the Karadjordjevic dynasty.

There waited on us Uca with his wife. It was apparent that he decided to sell the dog. Arap fascinated us at the first glance. He was not particularly strong, but had exceptionally harmonious proportions; he had long fur and walked beautifully, with pride. He was a dark-haired and happy dog. According to members of the household and villagers who knew him, Arap was a very sharp dog. When I decided to enter the enclosure where Arap was held, to take him on the leash, all of the onlookers begun to disperse claiming that he would tear me apart. I answered that this was the only solution if we desired to take him with us, and I marched courageously toward him. He accepted me quietly and he left with us in our van, as if he could hardly wait to take a ride. The trip to Belgium was uneventful. He spent the night in the van while we slept in the hotel. In our house he felt instantly at home. Of course, he first had a thorough brawl with the courageous Zoé, since he would neither give in.


Arap greeted our first guests with a sharp bark, but once they entered the living room he accepted them normally. He even allowed them to pet him. He was a good watchdog, and gentle with our guests in our presence. However, he remained a "flit" toward other dogs his whole life. This characteristic of his interfered considerably at all our shows. One had to have eyes on all sides of one's head to be able to react in time to prevent him from violently attacking every unknown dog. On the other hand, she showed very nicely in the ring, not necessitating the control of his posture, and this proved to be his big plus. Since he was almost always the winner, we also had a lot of enjoyment with him.

Arap, whom we acquired past the age of two, would never lend himself fully to the upbringing we would have liked to give him. After him, we had a series of dogs that did not like the ring and did not like to show, despite performing beautiful runs in our backyard. With Arap, we finally had a dog that would live a normal dog's life of 12 and-a-half years. Our black series was over.