How could I not be grinning after seeing a face like this one? It was puppy-love at first sight.
The American Kennel Club, like many clubs are wont to do, has rules, regulations, bylaws, codes of conduct, policies, standards, statutes, guidelines, procedures, requirements, parameters, and the like. Every aspect of being dog-crazy, er, I mean dog showing, has a rule to go along with it. With all that writing and reading o’rules, one wonders when they have time to breed, train, handle, and show dogs.
There are also many unwritten rules that dog show participants must adhere to.
I set before you what you need to know if you want to enter the heady world of dog showing without making rookie mistakes and getting laughed out of the show ring.
Your dog must be insanely adorable.
Or slightly bizarre.
You must tote around copious amounts of dog paraphernalia. Consider hiring a Sherpa.
Frequently use a drool rag to wipe off slobber. Dog drool and concrete floors are a deadly combination.
Or feel free to humiliate your dog by making him wear a silly bib.
Dog tattoos are a plus. Judges dig ’em.
Mom jeans and sensible shoes are a must.
Bring your checkbook so you can:
Shop at the dog leash emporium.
Hire an animal communicator. I kid you not.
Attend beauty school so you know how to properly style your dog’s hair . . . um, fur.
And finally, this is what the dogs must do:
Wait around . . .
And wait . . .
And wait some more . . .
My husband is a lucky man. I can hear you saying, “Why, yes he is! He is married to you, isn’t he?” That isn’t the only reason he is lucky. I came close to coming home with about two dozen dogs.
But this guy, my Sir William Wallace, would be jealous if I did that.