First of all, the 13″ beagle from Monday night was robbed. He didn’t even place, which is a damned shame. He was so spunky! A bunch of us watched DOG SHOW! together because that’s who we are, and we all thought he was the hands-down winner of the hound group.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I was PSYCHED that the long-haired dachshund won the hound group. Li’l Frankfurter was proud that his peoples were represented.
But Best in Show went to the fox terrier. He beat the doxie and the Havanese and even the Sussex Spaniel who was the grandson of Stump, one of my favorite Best in Show winners EVER.
It was the 15th time a fox terrier won Best in Show at Westminster. A pal noted that he was sure the dog was a nice pup, but it was sort of like Tom Brady and the Patriots – can’t someone else have a chance?
Can you imagine if it were the dachshund? Those short little legs on those fat little ankles, frolicking in the Atlantic City surf during the traditional day-after-crowning photo op on the beach? That no-nonsense doxie way of firmly communicating the importance of his “World Peace Through Modeling” platform? The utter fit that dog would inevitably throw next year when he takes his last walk down the runway before crowning the next Best in Show? What that little dog could do with a lifetime supply of Catalina swimwear?
So many missed opportunities.
And yes, maybe my love of dog shows and my love of pageants have become … intertwined. But dog or woman, I know a winner when I see one.