Dog and Pony Show

Below is a brief conversation overheard at a weekend dog and pony show east of Dunster Castle which refutes the argument that only American kids are spoiled.

British girl sitting (atop her pony): Daddy, why were you looking at Digget? You were supposed to be looking at me! You were supposed to be looking at meee!

Father: Stony silence.

Digget: Silence.
Good thing we didn't attend the dog and pony show to see poor Digget. We would've felt terrible for the nightmare that is his life. Instead, we were there for the dogs.

Tending to prefer the agility competitions over the AKC-style conformation shows, we were a little worried when there was no obstacle in course in sight. Much to our surprise, the afternoon's schedule involved several really imaginative canine contests, including (1) dog with nicest eyes (2) dog with waggiest tail (3) fittest dog (4) best rescued dog (5) best family dog; and (6) dog the judges most want to take home. It was a truncated, chunky, brown chocolate lab that stole our hearts. It was hot, and he was furiously panting but smiling all the same. Not surprisingly, he placed in the best family dog round and waddled away with his young master dreaming of a vanilla super whippy.

Naturally, the dog and pony show brought up memories of Kiwi the Wonder Dog, currently sweating it out in summer camp back in sultry Florida with my Dad. She would've wowed the judges with her "up against the wall, it's a frisk" trick that continues to amaze and delight. Though she's never been much for the old dog and pony show, preferring kibble to competition.