Confessions of a dog show groupie...

Dogs are such wonderful people. My brother and his partner breed wire-haired dachshunds, not the itty-bitty squeaky ones, the standards, stalwart 16 pounders. Wire-hairs are the mellowist of the clan. Around the house, they sprawl all over the place, often on their backs with all four feet waving in the air, like they have on their bathrobes. Their hair sticks out in odd places. Then they get into the show ring and you would think they were on the red carpet. They jaunt along with a see-me attitude. Man, it is a joy to behold. And so, I know when I watch these glitzy dog shows on TV that these are really just somebodys' pets prancing around the ring, all dolled up and putting on the Ritz. The English are a little more pedantic; their animals actually look like everyday dogs. Ours, here in the United States, are groomed to the max. I know that poodle breeders actually use shoe polish or chalk to cover up pink spots after those ludicrous trims they give those poor dogs. And the competition is among the humans, only. The dogs could care less. I watched the Eukanuba National Dog Show the other night, and even though I had to get up early to study for my final the next day, I could not turn it off without seeing the Best in Show winner. And what a hoot, it was Jeffrey, the Pekingese, this waddling clump of tawny fur. The judge said it was because he had the perfect head for the breed. Hard to tell that creature even had a head. And this is about as far away from the original animal, the wolf, as dogs go. I know from personal experience, too, that this is an affectionate breed, and a wonderful companion animal. My friend Joe, master of dear collie-mix, Shadow, said today how very rich he feels. Amen.