The Westminster

As I was waiting for Medium to come on, I was watching the terrier group judging at the Westminster Dog Show. The commentary at dog shows annoys me and I won't lampoon it too much, because I certainly can't do any better a job than the folks in Best in Breed did, but I will say that, when the Parson Russell terriers was being judged and the "foolish" commentator (it's like "good cop, bad cop," one commentator pretends to be an idiot and the other pretends to be delightfully willing to answer his questions) was going on about how he'd once seen a Parson Russell try to climb a tree in Central Park, I actually said out loud to my TV (which has never given me any indication that it can hear me), "Ha, you think that's something, I once was holding a leash attached to an AmStaff who was standing a good 8 feet off the ground in the crotch of a tree she'd just leapt into. That's a sight." The best part of the Westminster this year is that you can watch the breed judging on your computer. This morning, I've snuck in early to work to watch the AmStaff judging. I've never seen so many AmStaffs in one place! It just tickles me. I hate the ear cropping, though. Mrs. Wigglebottom's ears are so expressive. I can't think of anything that so easily catches me off-guard and delights me as much as seeing her run to the door when I get home from work, looking out to see if she needs to bark, and then perking up her ears and tilting her head and wagging her tail when she sees that it's me. I tuned in too late last night to see the AmStaff that made it to the Terrier Group, but I did see the Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Yuck, Mrs. Wigglebottom has some ugly cousins. I think it's the forehead I don't like, it juts out a little too much, but isn't quite as ridiculous as the Bull Terrier's, which I find endearing. In fact, I'll admit, as I was walking Mrs. Wigglebottom this morning, I was thinking how cool it'd be to get a Miniature Bull Terrier after she's gone. I would name him Tiny. (incidentally, I wonder how many of you daydream in the morning about who you will marry after your spouse is dead. Is it just a fantasy limited to pet owners or is everyone hoping to do better next time with the folks who share their furniture?)