America is going to the dogs. I promise this isn’t a political rant. I’m sure there is enough of that going around without adding my voice to the fray. I am talking about our longstanding relationship with “Man’s Best Friend.”
The numbers are amazing. According to the American Pets Products Association, there are 78 million dogs that are kept as pets. 55 Billion dollars are spent on pets every year. That’s a lot of Kennel-Ration.
Our household is down to one dog. Big Sophie. She’s old. Very old. She’s got one good eye. The other one looks like a shooter marble. Sophie’s gait is stiff. Her hips are crooked. Her formerly ebony muzzle is scarred from ancient fights and white with the frost of age. And strangely, she smells like a vacuum cleaner bag. She sleeps most of the day but still manages to be a good guard for our home.
For at least 30,000 years, humankind has partnered with dogs to guard our homes and give us companionship. In every continent of our planet, humans engage in this relationship. But there are some of us that are more dedicated than others. We met some of these dedicated individuals last Friday at the Georgia Classic Dog Show.
It started with a random phone call. “Hi. I’m Betty, calling from the Douglasville Kennel Club. I heard you sing at the Lowell Opry House. Can you come sing the National Anthem at our Dog Show?” Ah, my glamorous life.
I jumped at the chance. I’ve always enjoyed watching dog shows on TV. Seeing smartly dressed people in sensible shoes bolting around a ring, trying to keep up with their trotting canines is always big fun. I’m even a fan of the dog show movie, “Best of Show.” So, the prospect of seeing it live and in person was irresistible.
I had to sing at 8:30, so we got there early in the morning. It was a surreal environment- dogs everywhere. 1,700 dogs of every size, shape and color. It was a Baskin Robbins of canine genetics. Everything from Affenpins & Afghans to Whippets & Yorkshire Terriers. They were gorgeous, having been preened and groomed within an inch of their lives. And despite them being paraded and pranced around, most of them were surprisingly calm- they were just there to do a job. It was hard not to gawk at them. They were perfect specimens, in the peak of health.
The owners were just as much fun to watch. Some folks were dressed in suits that matched the color of their dog. Some were dressed in eye-catching, glittery Vegas togs. And although everyone we spoke to was friendly and accommodating, they were all concentrating on the task at hand- showing their dog to the maximum effect. Outside the show ring, the owners checked and double-checked their dogs, making last minute inspections of their already perfect appearances. Inside the ring, the owners trotted along side their animals, completely unconscious of how they themselves might look. They were focused solely on the performance of their dog.
The judges were dignified –dressed in fine suits, ready for serious business. There was no congenial chatting with owners, or chucking puppies under the chin. They stared, measured, and considered carefully. They looked at leg length, hair texture, beauty of gait – every aspect of every dog was judged. Only the most perfect dogs would win the day.
We prowled around back stage where people were prepping their animals for the shows. There were rows and rows of portable grooming stations set up where the most handsome dogs you can imagine were being fluffed and brushed into shining perfection. The dogs bore it patiently, just as patiently as the owners bore our incessant questions. There was an older gentleman who was showing a Cairn Terrier (like Toto on the “Wizard of Oz”). He said showing dogs gave him something to take pride in. A Rottweiler owner told us “Dog shows are more addictive and expensive than crack cocaine, but I just love it so.”
Finally it was time to sing the National Anthem. I expected maybe a stage populated by Dog Show dignitaries, but I was ushered behind the security desk to a paging phone, where I sang “the Dawn’s Early Light” into the phone receiver. I couldn’t really see anybody, but Johnny reported that each person in that vast crowd stood at attention with their hand over their heart, their leashed dog standing smartly at their side as all paid respect to our nation’s anthem.
We saw some beautiful dogs that day- blue ribbon winning dogs that were worth thousands of dollars. But I have to say, when we returned home and saw our old one-eyed Sophie, I still thought she was the most beautiful dog I’d seen all day. After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
This column was originally printed in the Times-Georgian. Mimi Gentry’s stories can be read every Thursday in the Times-Georgian.