It’s a dog’s life, the life of a celebrity journalist wanna-be. Editors toss you bones, publishers pressure to put a leash on you, advertisers want to cut your balls off. That’s just been my experience. Might be different for you. From September 20, 1989. – JDW
I was near spent. I’d expended so much energy maintaining a bright and sunny attitude throughout the SUMMER FROM HELL that, when the skies eventually cleared and the temperatures finally rose, my mood was generally overcast and cooler than normal. I’m already anticipating winter. The light at the end of my tunnel is gray. Just say woe.
Eavesdropping at Delilah’s was no help. The couple at the next table was discussing the Valdez oil spill catastrophe.
“How many Exxon executives does it take to change a light bulb?,” he asked.
“This is a joke, right,” she responded. Somewhat unnecessarily, it seemed to me.
“Yes. How many?”
“I don’t know. How many?”
“Ten.” There was a pause. “One to screw it in and nine to handle the public relations.”
No one laughed.
He wouldn’t let it go. Like a lot of us, she didn’t want to talk about it. Too depressing to think of. Better just to forget. No sense crying over spillt oil.
Not this guy. He was like a kitten with a ball of string.
“Listen to this,” he put down his coffee and started reading from The New York Times. “Some Coast Guard admiral, the highest ranking federal official in Valdez, points to the nation’s incredible appetite for oil and says, ‘Everybody can share a little bit of the blame for this spill.’ That’s crazy!”
She looked across the table at her companion and spoke quietly. “Honey, I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”
So, I headed for Waterfront Park, to stand on the banks of our clean river and take in the 378th – in dog years – Annual All-American Mutt Show. It’s a hard man who can be blue in the company of puppies and small children.
Dog biscuits in the grass. Bob, legendary feline meteorologist, in a two-story cage, obviously being held in protective custody. Attired in the black and white stripes of traditional prison attire, he looked so bored by the proceedings. No place for a cat of his stature.
It was a dog-day morning. The Pet Parade was mercifully brief, as a variety of cute kids led a variety of canine orphans on stage. The latter were all available for adoption. Half expected Sally Struthers to make an appeal. Can almost hear her now. “Adopt a pup or I’ll eat another child.”
It’s one thing not to be a purebred. I can empathize. But it’s quite something else to be a mongrel with no person to take care of, to play with, to fetch sticks for. No life for a dog. Then… well, there may soon be no life at all. Often, only the cute survive.
Damn. There’s that dark mood again. Sorry.
Sponsored by the Oregon Humane Society, the Mutt Show was a celebration of love of man’s best friend. Surely also the best friend of a lot of boys and girls. And why not?
When was the last time you petted your television set?
Some terrier, whose name I didn’t catch, stole the Silly Trick competition by “grass surfing.” The little rascal would actually get a running start, lock all four of his legs and skid across the lawn. He’ll probably be skateboarding by next year’s event.
The best part of the Longest Tail contest was watching an elegantly attired Sigrid Clark, the Mayor’s wife, down on her knees with the measuring tape she carries in her purse. One of the celebrity judges, she was taking her job very seriously and being a great sport at the same time.
The winner, by a hair, was Kodi, a one-hundred-and-thirty-five pound Husky/wolf mix, with a seventeen -inch wagger. MR. Kodi to strangers.
Then there was another big fella, one whose owner apparently made him meals he couldn’t refuse.
“He’ll eat anything in the house,” she said about Fido Don Corleone. The dog flopped on his back, hopeful for a scratch and a tickle.
“Judging by the size of his belly,” the emcee quipped, “he downed an easy chair just before coming here.”
The highlight of the event had to be the Owner-Mutt Look Alike category. It was almost scary. Spooky even.
There was Elizabeth, who couldn’t hear, with Bethlehem, who could. Wearing identical navy tops emblazoned with the logo of Northwest Christian Camp For The Deaf. Both real cuties.
A couple more were Francesca and her close companion Daisy, each clad in the cap and gown of graduating seniors.
Then there was Whiskey, who bites, and Dan, who doesn’t. This was their fourth appearance at the show and Dan, an actual grown-up adult, clearly enjoyed the competition. Whiskey, not so much. He likes to run around bare naked. Today, Whiskey and Dan were similarly attired in denim bib overalls, red thermal T-shirts and lavender scarves at the neck.
The winners of this event were never in doubt. The two looked more like members of the same litter than a little girl and her dog. Izzie is a spaniel mix, black and white, with a long , feathery coat.
Wearing more makeup than Tammy Bakker and a hairdo not unlike Tina Turner’s, Espere was the one with the warm, dry nose. Made me laugh just to look at the two of them.
I came away so enthused by the positive energy displayed by the seventy-two entrants, I took a trip out to the Humane Society (1067 N. E. Columbia, 285-0641). It’s quite a place.
Not sad at all. They’ve got a barnyard full of farm animals. They’ve got cats and kittens, big dogs and little dogs, all looking for a good home. Best of all, they have puppies for adoption.
Think about it. You could get a puppy that looks just like you.
The two of you have less than a year to learn a silly trick.
Epilogue. I came across a snapshot – which as is my style I cannot find when I need it – of the Dog Look-Alike Contest winners.
The dog is long gone by now but couple years ago I managed to reach out to the little girl. She reached back.
I’m going to pass your message along to my parents as well, they will definitely get a kick out of this!
Where to begin… I’ve turned out well. Happy and healthy and still an avid dog lover (although less of a look-alike kind of relationship these days).
I’m 37 years old and live in NYC.
I’m an RN at Columbia University Medical Center and do post-open heart surgery care. I am newly married and due with our first child in November.
My parents (those who helped me get my Izzie costume just right) are up in Yakima as of the end of last year. They too are well.
Thank you so much for reaching out to me.
– Espere
