When I joined Open Salon, I swore -- I swore -- I would never do an animal post. That promise ended last night when I watched the dazzling inaugural episode of So You Think You Can Dance: Animal Edition. 

The new dance show on FOX comes on the heels of the highly successful fifth season of So You Think You Can Dance: Human Edition, which has electrified millions of viewers worldwide and at least two people at OS. With few exceptions, Animal Edition has lived up to the hype. 

Here's my review of last night's remarkable competition. 

Edmund the Wondersquirrel was the perfect host. Despite rumors that he plagiarized two OS humorists, Edmund roiled the audience with jokes about funeral etiquette and the anxieties of fatherhood. 

The competition began with a riveting performance by Leopold and Esmerelda. If a finer example of poise and finesse has appeared on stage, it escapes the memory of this seasoned reviewer. "Harmony" was the operative word for this canine couple, confident in its ability to set an insurmountable standard of erstwhile glamor.   

The charms of Penelope and Egbert were irresistible to anyone with dreams of an old-fashioned romance. Eschewing contemporary athleticism for a genteel, other-worldy grace, the "rat pack" reminded us that nostalgia for a sweeter time, evinced in dance, can soften the brittlest mood.   

For Jasper and Marigold, the finest feline performers of the evening, audacity and pinache were the order of the evening. Although Marigold could not match her partner's explosive energy, the two came off as seasoned profes-sionals, leaving the audience agog and delighted.

If the evening had a magical moment, it came with Harry and Elaine. Never was music-making so heartfelt. Dancing as if their souls were entwined, the rodents elicited tears with their serene, almost hypnotic, rendering of three bel canto arias.  

Another highlight was the jaw-dropping performance by Siberian couple, Polaris and Tatiana. Their gallant display of power and agility pierced the heart of every Russophile in the room. Although subtlety was sacrificed at the altar of strength, their canvas, ever grand, never lapsed into brutishness.    

Perhaps the most adorable dancers were Stuffy and Fluffy, who delighted judges and audience alike with their wit, creativity, and matching sweaters. Each flick of the wrist brought enchantment; each kick of the foot, magic. What they lacked in deportment was made up in style and charisma.

For those seeking a contemporary flavor, the penguin duo, "Ice This, Motha-fuckas," brought rhyme and rhythm to the stage. Armed with enough syn-copation to drown a drunk, Jay P and Queen Ella brought excitement to the hip-hop crowd (and consternation to parents).

The evening took a downturn with Whitey and Brownie. Though their passion was unmistakable, awkwardness characterized every step from their first embrace. The couple was mismatched.  Neither had the requisite skill or experience for this level of competition. 

The worst performance came from a fish named Walter. Walter was utterly grotesque. After a few seconds of his buffoonery, I was searching for my fillet knife. Two moves do not a dance make. By the time the audience began chanting "chowder," the writing was on the wall.  

The penguin duo, Lewis and Clara, albeit cute and colorful, did not live up to expectations. Clara's performance was uncharacteristically bland, leading many to suspect she had suffered a minor stroke. Her disheveled appearance revived discussions of mandatory drug testing. 

Equally drab was Hoot the owl. No doubt, showing "a little leg" is good if you're a French woman doing the can-can, but if you're an owl, the effect is disappointing. Fortunately, the judges ended the one-legged salsa before any guns were loaded.

While Tony and Jade were not the worst feline performers of the evening, they left many questioning the qualifications of the screening jury. Clearly unprepared for television, Jade was frightened by her own shadow, while Tony did nothing to allay her insecurities. 

The final canine performance seemed promising at first, but the magic ended quickly. While Rover's Elvis-like gyrations pleased the Baby Boomers, quality ebbed thereafter. Rover was talented, but he lacked creativity, which was no surprise to anyone who knew his name was Rover. Advancement is unlikely.

The final dance pitted judges against audience. While the judges were repulsed by Hank and Gracie's lurid attempts at sumersaults and pirouettes, the predominantly obese human audience was inspired by the duo's insouciance toward its own unsightliness. Though certain not to advance, the pair will begin a fifteen-stop tour of the southern U.S. next fall.   

Special recognition goes to the O.J.s for their fine musicianship. Expect them to return next year.