Sunday, April 8, on the TV at BK they were showing the Beverly Hills Dog Show.
(This was a feature of NBC Sports?! The webpage is beyond belief.)
Took me a while to figure out: this is a beauty contest for dogs.
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy watching pretty women as much as anyone else. But they rate and judge these animals by stringent criteria I’d never accept being applied to a human being.
The feet must be well-formed. For some reason, they have to lift up every one’s tail. They cannot run at an angle; that is, when they run, the spine must exactly align with the direction of motion.
It’s not my dog’s job to look nice to be an object. My dog’s job is to be a companion and playmate. Of all the dogs in the world, my dog is the only one who is this dog. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone treat it as an object.
No one needs to be “best in show.” Each one has his or her own way to shine.
(I don’t currently have a dog. When I become un-homeless, I hope to have a cat instead. But in my childhood, we had dogs in the home.)
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