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The Borzoi National Specialty, 2021, Wilmington OH

Although the Borzoi National Specialty Show ended three weeks ago,  I am just now coming out of my daze and trance from all of the love and beauty I experienced there.  So much so, that I have already booked my hotel room for next year, where it will be held in Mesquite, TX.  The joy of looking forward to it will be a beacon for me when I go through  hard times of sadness, which I know will happen, if the past is any indicator.

My mentor’s dog, a male, is the number one borzoi in the country and he was expected to win.  The number two borzoi was a bitch bred by another highly respected breeder and exhibitor, almost at the same level as my mentor.  There was a bit of a surprise when the judge selected the bitch to be the winner, and the dog as BOS.

Fortunately, there was a class coming up for “Stud Dog”, and my mentor’s borzoi won that prestigious honor, so my mentor had much to be proud of, since it is not only about winning in the ring, but what you can produce in the whelping box.  The dog is down from our co-bred borzoi, Majenkir Magnus o’ Blyss (Magnus/Max).  That win retroactively reflects back on all of the dogs of that line to Magnus, and his parents, my “Makhailya” and “Regal” of Majenkir.  They are gone now, but at home, I am comforted by their photographs and portrait pictures that are so beautiful, my home is a shrine to them and their exquisite beauty.  What is not hanging on walls is contained in numerous photo albums.  Who would ever have believed I would own such a special borzoi as “Mikhailya” and be so fortunate to do a breeding with “Regal”, my mentor’s most famous stud dog.  The stars aligned for the creation of my litter.

All of this was clearly in the forefront of my mind during the show, even if I did not always feel well, troubled by migraine headaches  and chills.   But I was well entertained by the two beautiful borzoi boys of my room-mate who added an extra dimension of joy to my trip, and I got a ride back home with a friend from NJ with a van with several borzoi in the back.

Hitting the wall but still standing

I find myself abandoned and alone, still having or needing medically necessary surgeries and pharmaceuticals, and am still unable to connect in any meaningful way to someone who truly cares about me.  The most strange and bizarre men look me up or find me, only to fail to be able to return the most basic  requirements of intimacy; being everything from spewing forth psychobabble to icy silence.  I don’t know which is worse.  I know only time will tell, but at this advanced age, there is not much more time left.  I am someone marked to fail at intimacy in a most tragic way, because I cannot imagine anyone who has tried as hard as I have at it and failed so many times.  It is baffling.

Fortunately, I find my joy elsewhere, in my beloved breed, the borzoi, and the people who breed, love and nurture them.  I am so over the cripples who try to tear me down with their inadequacies only to make me feel I did it to them.  I no longer will believe the love word when it is whispered and the despair expressed at having found me too late in life, I am just going to go on being me, happy among my borzoi and their breeders.   I actually think the gentlemen know I love the breed so much and it distresses them, like they are competing with a dog, and they cannot handle that.  Well, yes, they are competing with a dog, but I have a great capacity to love, and I can love both humans and dogs.  Whatever it is at the root of this failure, I will rise above it, especially next week.

Next week, the Borzoi National Specialty Show will be held in Wilmington, OH and I shall be there.   I will be flying there, and I have a room mate at the host hotel.  That is such a blessing and an accomplishment that I am not going to allow myself to be affected by this gentleman or that, one who cannot speak at all, another who wants to talk to me about “romance” but that’s all.  None of the men I meet really ever wants to meet, being on a dating sight is just something they do because for some reason, each specific to the individual, they are out there failed and alone like me, and that is the best they can do.  It is very sad.

But, I am looking up and forward to Ohio and being among people whom I respect and have learned so much from, people who have welcomed me into their lives and their homes, people with generosity of spirit, who have given me the supreme complement I could ever have, the placement of their borzoi and Silken Windhounds at Blyss.

Two week-ends ago  was the May spring borzoi specialty shows and the Central NJ Hound Association show.  The borzoi were stunning, and  many bred in Europe were entered.  I only went to the Hound Club show, because on Saturday, I celebrated Mother’s Day with my son and his family so I had a conflict.  But it was a lot of fun being there with everyone on May 9.  The show was very well attended, and the quality of the dogs being shown was high.  On Saturday, a great win, BISS and BOS, went to our first borzoi mentor and seller, Joseph Lara and his partner, Scott Modica.  It was well deserved.  On Sunday, Jennifer Zucker and Linda Barad’s Swiss import won Best of Breed and went on to a Group Four.  A lovely bitch she was showing from Ksar kennels in Atlanta GA went Winner’s Bitch and Best of Winners.  She was acquired as a stud fee acquisition and fits in beautifully with their current line of borzoi.  So, even though a lot has changed and it was different, at the end of the day, many of the same skilled, committed people were there, 20 years after we first got our first borzoi, Casanova, from Joseph, and he kindly introduced us to everybody and sponsored our memberships into many clubs.

Maybe my idea that I am not happy is a delusion.  I have my male admirers on the fringe of my life who keep me in their loop, but that’s the best place they can handle being in with me.  I have been told I can be hard to know or be with, and tough  minded.  Well, yes…   I have had to fight hard to stay standing in my life.  And I am still standing.

I leave next week to go to the National in Ohio, and I could not be happier about  anything else than that.

Status of dog shows in 2021

After a year of canceled dog shows due to COVID-19 in 2020, it does not look much better for them in 2021.  There are some dog shows, but the conditions under which they must occur precludes any enjoyment by spectators, in fact, spectators are not permitted at all.  In addition, no vendors or selling of catalogs will be allowed.  Considering it will be expensive for me to attend some of these dog shows, I recently canceled my hotel reservations rather than deal with these disappointments at shows for days on end. As of today, I still do not know the status of the Somerset Hills KC show, in September which is where the Borzoi Club of Central NJ holds its annual specialty show, but I am not optimistic.  Westminster KC dog show is supposed to take place in June at Lyndhurst, in Tarrytown, but I do not see how it can be a “benched” show as it usually is.  Since the show is usually a hub of vendors for many kinds of merchandise, without food vendors, and attended by the most devoted in the dog show world, it does not look very pleasing.

Troubles visiting Blyss stealing my bliss

This has become another rather difficult time, and a cold, snowy winter at that, a time of having had to make a change that I had no input into making, it was imposed upon me by someone else who really over reached his boundaries in how his decision impacted me.  No, I did not get to choose but it happened anyway as it has many times before.  The one unifying trait of these former friends, mostly men but the phenomenon occurs with girlfriends, too, is the sudden, unforeseen, cold, silent treatment I receive.  I am not worth a syllable.  Two men in my past were so determined to get away from me, they died. The others looked at me and saw damaged goods, and they fled.

The only truly happy love I have had in my life was when my husband and I had our borzoi, and bred our one litter.  However, when life was at its best, he was taken out with an illness that was terrible and swift.   Much has been written about my joy living with my borzoi, and yes, it was a profound and perfect joy, free from the treachery of human love, so often based on self serving motives.  They are gone now, and not to be returning.   Today I have a new dog, a beautiful Silken Windhound bitch from the Wind ‘n Satin kennel.  Her name is Kensey (CH GCH Wind ‘n Satin It’s My Party) and she is lovely.  She comforts me with her love.  But I am as lonely as ever, doomed in romances that repeat my failures of childhood.  As with my parents before, I evoke terrible rage and disappointment in men, and I cannot imagine what all the fuss is about.  If they wanted to break up, all they had to do was say so and be a gentleman about it.  Instead, they blame and slaughter me for alleged unforgivable wrong doings towards them. And it just goes on and on and on.

I will look ahead to the May dog shows that will be held first in Bethlehem, PA, where I will be among friends for a few days.  I will have had my second COVID-19 vaccine so I should be safe to participate.  Later, during the third week, I will be in Wilmington, Ohio for the Borzoi Club of America National Specialty Show.  I will put the winter with its painful cold behind me.  I will be all smiles and hold my head high.  I am not like the other ladies who have to be married to survive, no, I can be quite the survivor on my own, as I have these long, past ten years.    Yet, I believe somewhere, out there, there is somebody worthy of my love, I just have to find him, or he to find me.  I am working on it, a work in progress, for as long as I draw breath.  If not, I know I am enough of a self reliant person to go on, to do the right thing, and be happy alone.

Facebook wisdom again, for Blyss

I keep coming across this beautiful poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye, so I decided to make a copy of it for my Blog.  I believe I will feel this way when I die.  And, I want to think that the people I love will be in this state, as well.  I just wish I could feel this comfortable about the death of my borzoi, but of course, we all know that is too terrible a thing for me.   I cannot accept that.  I am nothing; they are everything I ever had worth anything good.  If I was ever good, it was because of them.

“Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there.  I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at  night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there.  I did not die.”


COVID-19 in the USA

In response to the current debate over whose idea is right about how to flatten the curve in countries or US states with increasing cases of COVID-19, in March, activities and places were closed or shut down, and people were advised to social distance, self quarentine & wear masks to stop the spread of COVID-19 in the population and flatten the curve. It was very effective in accomplishing that when citizens heeded the advice.

What is there not to understand here?  Medicine is a hard science  based on theories proven with experimental results that are  statistically significant.  Politics is a social science, which is a soft science, lts data makes it more difficult to prove theories that reach statistical significance because the variables in designing social science experiments are more difficult to control.  If I were going to follow the advise of either President Trump or Dr. Fauci, I would choose Dr. Fauci, our country’s leading Infectious Disease specialist.  Medicine is a hard science and its facts, when studied, always yield the same results.

To repeat the advice of Dr. Fauci:

Do social distancing,

Avoid large gatherings.

Wear masks and

Self quarentine.

We disregard this advice at our peril.

They are ALL the right thing to do.

Kind regards,


Health Challenges for me at Blyss

Having difficulties balancing the feelings of my several very fine and appreciated friends who are in my life, some woman, some men, who hover around me and occasionally become overly concerned, jealous of another, angry at one another and/or me.  We are all stressed to the breaking point, and just want to throw in the proverbial towel.  Maybe it is easier not to have friends now.  A friend can give you COVID-19 at worse, or put you into a horrible depression.  Trying to lower the dosages of my meds in 2019 proved to be a disaster.  I lost over 10 pounds then, and another 5 pounds so far in 2020, too low a weight to have resistance to an infection if I am exposed to one.

I just learned I need to have a serious operation on my lung, but the surgeon will not operate on me until I gain a significant amount of weight.  My internist informed me that my body mass is so low that if I were in Europe, I would not be allowed to model, either on a runway or a photo shoot.  Personally, I like being very thin, but it figures it is another of a long line of mistakes I have made that I think that even if it is nobody’s business but my own, clinically speaking, it is a mistake.  I hate it when people bully me, even medical data,  but these are the orders of a world class thoracic surgeon and I do not argue with doctors.  Send good thoughts my way.  I have a young Silken in my life, “Kensie”, at home now who loves me, and I cannot get sick or die because she needs me.  I am also loved by a wonderful gentleman who I want to be with always, so that, too, inspires to me to get healthy.

Riots in America

May 30 at 7:53 PM

I guess when you have lived a long time, as I have now, you have the perspective of watching the worst of history repeat itself before your eyes and are unable to do a thing to stop it.
I remember the original riots our country witnessed for four days in July 1967. In the NJ city of Newark, near where I live, a beautiful city founded by the Dutch in the 17th century, with beautiful architecture and many buildings on the Register of Historic Places, with a city park designed by Frederick Law Olmstead, the same landscape architect of Central Park in NY City, and adorned it with more cherry trees than Washington DC; a city that was second in excellence only to neighboring NY City in school achievement and health care delivery accomplishments, and site of the State on New Jersey’s first state medical college, where I got my first job after college in the medical school library, launching my career as a research librarian in 1972, where I worked for several years, the foundation of a forty year career.
Newark and other NJ and US cities around the country endured four days of intense rioting in 1967. I was 17 that year, and I assure you the rage that provoked it may have been legitimate but the destruction the riots created almost 50 years later has never been recovered.
Ghettos are the legacy of riots, with the exception of the revived downtown areas, with big office buildings, sports arenas and performing arts centers. For some reasons, urban planners believe building office building complexes, sports areas and performing arts centers in an urban downtowns are a good thing but I don’t get it. It creates an illusion of prosperity that does not exist once you drive down a side street. Instead, I think riots further polarized and divided the races. They deepened despair that lead to drug abuse, eliminated jobs that never returned, created welfare states in the cities, and broke down family structure in the absence of the jobs that left never to return. I believe the riots had the unintended consequences of further marginalizing the races as it widened the income levels between Black’s and whites.
Fast forward to today. There have been many incidences of injustices against our Black human family members and they have never really stopped. Now, they have erupted into a country wide mass action of rioting once again 50 years later. 50 years……
Until we recognize we all belong to one human family where all of our lives are intertwined with and interdependent on one another, where one person’s sorrow or joy becomes our own, and every human life has equal dignity and worth and is blessed, rage, racism and riots will not stop.

Stephen Metzger, Yvonne McGehee and 27 others




View 6 more comments

Charlotte Wyda
I remember the riot at Rahway NJ State Prison,in the 60s, my Dad was on duty and Mom and I feared for his life. Protests were here in Charleston SC, last night destroying many buildings. What purpose does it solve ? None !

Paul Schryba
Well said, Lorene.

Arlene Boulos
I remember the riots. I lived in Newark at that time but on the other side of Penn station. The only part of Newark that was safe and still is

Daniel Foran
Lorene very well written.Stay safe in these sad times

“I’m just me”. More Facebook fun at Blyss Kennels.

I’m just me.

I’m not perfect. I’m me.   I’ve made bad decisions and wrong choices, but I’m me.  I’ve said the wrong things, I’ve said the right things, because I’m me.

I don’t like everything  I’ve done but I did it because I’m me. I’ve loved the wrong people and trusted the wrong people and I’m sill me.  If I had the chance to start over again, I wouldn’t change a thing,  Why?  Because I’m me.

There are a lot of good things about me, you just have to look past the imperfections to see what’s right.  If you can’t do that, then it’s your loss.  I’m the best I can be.   I’m me!



Jelly – Ten Years Old

It has occurred to me, one day late, that yesterday would have been the tenth birthday of my beautiful borzoi bitch, Jelly, CH Kasharra Bibikov, that I received about five years ago from Frances Wright of Cross River, NY. She has been gone one year, and my grief from losing her has been terrible. I almost did not survive it. My weight loss has been extreme. I was not planning on replacing her, but my physician and I agreed that a Silken Windhound might be in order to help me feel not so alone and be of comfort to me at this time. So, I purchased “Kinsey”, or Gr CH Wind ‘nSatin It’s My Party, from Mary Childs and the rest is history! She is an angel and a dream, and I am feeling much better.  It is difficult for me to move on from loss, or from the death of one of my dogs, as we know.  It does not get better.  It stirs something primal, deep in my heart to lose a dog, something I cannot feel for a human.  I have lost parents, two husbands, and many close friends to death, without feeling a twinge of anything amiss, and I can accept it as natural.  However, if any of my dogs die, my heart is torn to shreds with an agony that requires a high dose of a serious anti-depressant.  Recently, I was graduated to several hundred milligrams of Seroquel as maintence.  Not for the faint of heart.  Still:

“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.

Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way.

We cherish memory as the only certain immortality,
never fully understanding the necessary plan.” —-Irving Townsend.

So I hold Jelly’s memory close and still.  The longer we were together, the more she reminded me of Opal.  I felt perhaps Opal had returned.  I began to sense Opal’s presence with me.  A great deal of my pain went away.  However, it quickly returned again and grew stronger every day after Jelly died.  Dear God!  Let me be with my adored and beloved Opal again, and all the other Blyss borzoi, when You call me home!