Doc tried to distract me from watching TV for the last few days and it didn’t take me long to find out why. She didn’t want me to see that all of the “purebreds” that were competing for the top dog award at Westminster. This has been a long running pain in my gluteus maximus for years now and I find the rules to be the height of dog snobbery. The bottom line, I can’t compete nor can my friends because we are mutts. Now what do you think about that?
“Here we go again.” I heard Doc say quietly under here breath. ” I heard that!” I said back to her with indignation. ” Grover, we go over this and over this every year and you won’t let it go. Ever since you filled out the paper work and received a rejection letter from Westminster, you are insufferable when this comes on TV. It’s just not healthy to do this to yourself every year. Even if you were a purebred I don’t have the hundreds of thousands of dollars it would take to get you ready to win Best in Show. Besides, you’re neutered, they don’t allow neutered dogs. End of story.”
Maybe Doc is right. It’s kind of like a beauty pageant for dogs and the rules are set. According to your breed you must have ideal structure, color, perfect ear and tail placement and good temperament.
Seeing my disappointment, Doc sat down, looked at me and said, “You know Grover, there are rules for everything. You are certified as a therapy dog and you had to pass those standards. You should be proud of that. Let’s put it this way, many of the dogs that go to Westminster would never be able to pass the therapy dog test. Besides, do you really want a bath and blow out everyday? They also use hair spray on your dog coat to make you look poofy.” ” Oh no!” I said back to her in horror. “You know Doc you’re right. I can just work at being Best in Show as a therapy dog. Every dog and human is good at something. It’s best to focus on your own talents than try to be something you’re not.” ” Now you understand,” Doc said as she gave me a big hug.