The 134th annual Westminster Dog Show at Madison Square Garden Monday and Tuesday brings to mind a man I dated for almost a year. The man, let’s call him Joe, was involved in the pedigreed dog world. He published articles about them, and was on boards involved with them.
Joe took me to the Westminster show. He knew the announcer, and the judges. We hung out where the contenders get brushed and groomed. The scene reminded me of the movie, Best in Show, a world of over-the-top divas, some of them canine. Lot’s of baby talk. Lots of nervous energy. Lots of fur.
Joe had a dog of his own, a calm, golden lab named Duke, who was trained to be a service dog, but failed the course for some reason I never understood. I had no problem with Duke. He was sweet. I just resented that dates were cut short so Joe could go to his home to walk Duke. That is, if he (Duke, not Joe) wasn’t in the back seat of the SUV, drooling on my hair. (A couple of times Duke sat in the front and I sat in the back.)
Now Joe had lots of redeeming features as a boyfriend, and he was clean. But why didn’t he get a dog walker? Was he cheap? Obsessed? Not into me enough? Too much into Duke? All of those? Perhaps he would have liked me more if I wore a collar, and barked. Actually I tried the collar, but let’s not go there.
We once overnighted in Pennsylvania to see a show and had to stay at a seedy motel that accepted large dogs like Duke. The room smelled like a kennel. I slept in a motel room with Duke and his master outside Beacon New York when we visited the Dia museum there (Duke sat that one out in the car). I was up much of the night because Duke needed several night walks.
That’s when I decided to stop getting in the way of Duke and Joe, and we called it off.
A few months later Joe and I reunited for dinner. I was staying at a hotel in New York called The Warwick. It was a charming reunion, and Duke was not mentioned. Joe and I flirted with each other over rigatoni and canoodled over cannoli. Things were going great. And then we lingered by the elevator and he came up to my buttercup-colored room, and we undressed each other and canoodled some more, on the bed.
And we spent about 15 minutes, which even for him wasn’t enough. And then he stopped, and repeated a familiar refrain, “I gotta go walk Duke!”
I wanted to scream, “You’ll never change, you dog-obsessed dog. I was a fool. Get outta here, and take your flea-bitten coat with you!”
Actually I just yelled, “That’s it. We’re really over.”
I never spoke to Joe again. But every year when the Westminster show returns I briefly think of him, and of Duke.
I wonder what happened to Joe. My guess is that he’s married to a bitch.
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Comments
I love the movie, "Best In Show". Christopher Guest is brilliant. Now when I watch the Westminster scenes from the movie run in the back of my mind like a Greek chorus.
Great writing.
And another happy ending! ;>) Good reflection, Lea. The moral? be careful who you pet. {{{R}}}
"Best In Show", btw, was a great movie - the best Chris Guest movie since "Spinal Tap".
Come to think on it, funny and pathetic sounds a lot like Joe.
Actually, if Joe wound up with anyone, it would be a woman who shares his doggie obsessions. They could be very happy together, in a Best in Show kind of way.
As long as Duke (and then Duke Jr.?) are alive, no woman in his life will be first in his life. He will leave her in a poodle of tears.
and they say that loyalty to a pet is a sign of good partner material....
A few comments: Yes, Duke had bladder problems, but probably needed to get Joe to pay attention. But Joe just used him for an excuse --he was a commitment phobe.
Brown-eyed girl, we are in synchronicity.
sixtycandles, canoodling interruptus is a phrase that will ring in my ears for many days to come.
Mrs. Michaels, I'm a cat person and a dog person too, but not a Joe person.
The rest of you: happy you've stopped by and glad you all liked the movie.
Choosing Duke over you certainly showed Joe had poor eyesight, lousy judgment and no ability to tell a hound from a thoroughbred. Glad you escaped without getting fleas.
Good, clever, post.
Monteeeee
"That’s when I decided to stop getting in the way of Duke and Joe, and we called it off."
Ha!
And Monte, that pix wasn't Joe. That was the bitch.
Did I really just say that to the hottest lady on OS?
Makes on wonder what Joe relationship with his mom was like.
People are wont to say dog's give them unconditional love, but if they habitually verbally and physically abused a dog like some people do people -- who as a consequence don't return that treatment with unconditional love -- I suspect they'd find a dog's love isn't all that unconditional either.
As evidence of that assertion, I offer my former neighbor, Dave the Village Idiot, who used to relentlessly aggravate his Dalmatian, the dumbest breed I've ever seen -- thank you Disney, you rotten bastards for making them so popular -- Dave used to irritate that dog relentlessly, I say, until one day, the dog leaped up and bit Dave's nose -- hard. Not long thereafter, the dog came up missing -- so much for unconditional love from dogs or humans.
As for cats, some wag once quipped -- after being asked what was the last animal to be domesticated -- that the common housecat may be one day. Cats are admired for their independence -- so it's alleged, but stop feeding the little bastard for a week and see if your cat remains stand-offish.
I'm reminded of Barbara, another neighbor, who was embarrassed to be known as the Catwoman because of the nine or ten felines that ran her home. She vowed her constant love for the insolent creatures, but when a rich retired banker who was not a pet person showed up to court her, the cats were soon all gone.
Dogs, cats or persons -- the falsest of promises is unconditional love. So now, let the brickbats fly -- I've become quite adept at ducking and tossing them back!!
PS I sure do miss old McDonnell O'Day, the world's greatest Sheltie -- check that, the world's greatest dog!
Great post, Lea. And its sandwiching by two pictures symbolizing the sublime and the ridiculous is just perfect.
Joe probably was on a 2-3 year waiting list to get Duke. Service and guiding eyes dogs who flunk out are in very high demand by people who want a trained dog without having to train them themselves.
Date a dog owner with a fenced in back yard.
I have to wonder if the dog had a bladder problem, but I suspect Joe loved his dog so much he really hated being away from him for very long. So it sounds like Joe had issues that were more complex than simple dog ownership responsibilities.
I'm not a cat person but your cat is awfully pretty.
No animals in the master's bed (I am the master or mistress, whatever the case may be)...But one! The lover of the house and of my bidding. Only room for two and no sniveling animals taking all the attention away from me! I love animals very, very much but do not share my bed with them ever! Anymore. Intimacy busters at best! Goodbye Joe!
I am starting to figure out why your Voice charms so, as writing. You engage with life, with enthusiasm and and curiosity -- but you are shrewd enough as a writer to not go full throat about it. You let us in on the sly, tell-all, just between us conversation reserved for real friends. It is insanely effective, and rarely more so than here.
That last line. Just...damn girl, so funny and fine.
And Greg, you give such great writing analyses. Thank you.