I was conditioning Super Gnat's Gr.Ch. Ace for his 4th match when I received a call from S.T.P. He explained that his Gr.Ch. Buck was contracted into Ricky Jones and Gr.Ch. Sandman, at 48 lbs. Both dogs were exceptionally seasoned match dogs with similar styles and S.T.P. predicted that the match would be a long one. S.T.P. wanted me to provide the veterinary care after the match. I was honored that S.T.P. would trust my veterinary skills and I told him how to get to my house on his trip south to meet Rebel Kennels Gr.Ch. Sandman.

As a pup Buck was sold to a physician. He proved to be an unsatisfactory pet and was sold to the late Alan Waldman who matched and won with Buck in the low 50's. Fortunately for Buck, S.T.P. purchased the dog and campaigned him at his correct weight, 46 lbs. In S.T.P.'s hands, Buck demolished all of his competition, which included some highly regarded match dogs. Buck did not dazzle fanciers with ten-minute wins, but he had virtually no weakness as a match dog and always dominated his opponent, no matter what style.
Rebel Kennels Gr.Ch. Sandman was bred and raised by Ricky Jones from a Rascal/Jeep and Boomerang cross. Word had it that Ricky was able to take some of the unwanted dogs from some very good dogmen, and by sheer determination and good sense Ricky had bred bulldogs that could compete and win over the best in the country. Some of the best match dogs, at any weight, were either owned by Rebel Kennels, or were matched into Rebel Kennels.

My friend Peter from Holland wanted to learn more about conditioning so he stayed at Rebel Kennels conditioning match dogs. Peter owned St. B.'s Dylan and was already a noted conditioner prior to his trip to Ricky's place.

Two of the most dominant kennels using two of the foremost bloodlines were matched into each other. While Boomerang/Jeep/Rascal blood was dominating southern matches, blood through Boyles' Dirty Mary was just starting to establish itself in the south.

S.T.P.'s mini van pulled up in my driveway. He had been on the road for over seven hours and intended to make the remaining three-hour drive without resting. Buck was standing up in his sky kennel and had been doing that for the entire trip. Buck was let out of his kennel to empty out and rake up a bunch of leaves and dirt. He looked good with good muscle tone. As always, I asked about Buck's conditioning program. S.T.P. told me that Buck was worked on two different treadmills. One day he would work the free turning mill and the next day he would run a hard turning mill. By the peak day, (One week prior to the match), Buck had run for two hours at a good pace, on the easy turning treadmill. S.T.P. went over the plan we would follow when we arrived at the match site. Buck would have emptied out prior to arriving at the site and would stay in his sky kennel until the last possible moment, because he would go wild once he saw the pit.

We drove down and got a motel room where we could return after the match. Everyone was a little nervous about the match because Buck was going into a great dog owned by a good dogman.

We drove to the site and found out that Ricky and Sandman had been staying in the area for the past five days. Most of the dogmen favored Sandman and made no secret of their preference. Buck weighed in right on the weight and we were told that Sandman was also right on weight, but when Sandman was put on the scale he was 1 1/4 lbs. over the weight. S.T.P. played this situation perfectly, saying that he would take the forfeit and go home. Ricky started talking trash, saying that S.T.P. was scared and so on. Finally, Ricky said that he would give them odds in the betting. S.T.P. never intended to take the forfeit but he convinced Ricky that he was going to take the forfeit and go. After taking considerable verbal abuse, S.T.P. came back to the van grinning like a Cheshire cat. He had gotten everything he had wanted in the betting. The betting on both sides was brisk, fanciers from all over the world were betting on their favorite. Ricky was ready to cover huge side bets, which by far exceeded the original bet.

There were about 25 fanciers waiting for the match to start. My friend Peter from Holland was betting on Sandman, while I was betting on Buck. This was the first time we were not on the same side of the betting. The dogs were released and Sandman shot over like a rocket and got a good hold. When Sandman got to the stifle, Buck slowly and deliberately got him out. Ricky got all excited and said that Bucks stifle was broken. For the first 20 minutes Sandman was all over Buck, but then Buck started to dominate the action. Buck was a little stronger and had a little heavier. He was taking the match to Sandman, but neither could get much of a lead over the other.
Ricky's wife was holding their baby and was quite verbal as she yelled for Sandman to whip Buck. It was a credit to the spectators that none of them asked Ricky's wife to quit her monotonous and repetitive yelling for Sandman. The yelling went on for hours as the two Grand Champions battled on into the night.

Both dogs could hardly be held in their corner as they rocketed across on their scratches. About an hour and a half into the match Sandman got a good hold on Buck's neck. As Buck tried to twist out of this hold, Sandman held on and a stalemate ensued. Sandman would not release his hold and Buck could not get free, so the two Grand Champions were locked motionless and time dragged on. It seemed that both dogs were asleep. Buck started to vocalize his frustration at being unable to move. Ricky became even more excited, interpreting the noise as a sign of Buck wanting to quit. Nothing could be further from the truth as Buck finally extricated from the hold and resumed his dominance over Sandman. Ricky not only began to denigrate Buck but also S.T.P. At one point he said that he was going to kick Buck's ribs in because he was such a cur. I encouraged him to go ahead and do it since the foul would leave Buck the winner. I think that Ricky began to realize that Buck was going to beat his Sandman dog and this was his way of dealing with that possibility. No matter how many times and how many ways Ricky verbally abused Buck and S.T.P. he never let it bother him. S.T.P. stayed with his dog and ignored all the outside shenanigans. S.T.P. gave fanciers a good demonstration of coolness and decisiveness in a tough situation.
At the end Sandman began to falter and it was clear that Buck was going to win. At three hours and 17 minutes, Sandman didn't scratch. Buck's courtesy scratch was a running one and he slammed into Sandman. We hustled Buck into a nearby shed and I started an intravenous line. Buck received 10 cc's of Azium in about 800 mls of Ringers before he ripped the line out of his leg. In an adjacent shed, Ricky worked in an effort to save Sandman. I was told that he gave Sandman an injection of Epinephrine, which is often used by human rescue personnel. The shot of "Epi" as it is known to the members of the rescue squad, killed Sandman immediately. Buck would not be still so I stopped the IV, which had leaked into the surrounding tissue.

The level of euphoria was high as we drove back to the motel. We were all singing a 50's song playing on the radio. Even S.T.P., who is normally a reserved person, sang loudly as we drove through the night.
We stayed at the motel that night, but I couldn't get a catheter sealed in Buck's veins. It wasn't until the next day that I did get a catheter in Buck's front leg and he continued to receive IV fluids. Buck also got a shot of Lasix to help him urinate all the fluid we were giving him.

Buck stayed at my house for two weeks after the match, recovering from his ordeal. At 5:00 AM every morning, Buck would start his scream/howl, which echoed throughout the house. When I walked him outside, Buck would try to lunge at the other dogs in my yard, even though he could hardly stand up. It was obvious that his spirit had not been broken in spite of the lengthy battle with Sandman.

I returned Buck to S.T.P. and the old warrior lived the good life, breeding bitches and eating good food until he died.

Barney Fife