On Sept. 14, my dog Al turned 3 years old. Al is a terrier mutt
““ a medium-sized dog with brown and white short hair.
Al reminds me of actress Nicole Kidman and Portland Trailblazers
power forward Rasheed Wallace.
He is aloof, strikingly beautiful and crazy.
Al is so cute and spunky, I got to thinking, “Why not
enter him in some international dog shows where he can show the
world how much pep he’s got?”
First, some background. My family got Al during my senior year
of high school ““ my parents’ attempt to finally make
things right. Before Al, we had never had a dog because my parents
said my youngest sister, Madeline, was scared of them.
“Yeah. That is a lie,” 13-year-old Madeline
said.
Anyway, after years without a dog, I explained to my parents
that the psychological implications of growing up without a dog in
the household were mind-boggling for me. So, they caved in, and we
got Al.
Because having a dog was a new experience for my family, we
obviously needed to hire a personal dog trainer to teach Al how to
behave. However, the trainer’s classes were also education
for our family, and we failed miserably, leaving Al completely
undisciplined. Still, the untrained mutt ““ who can’t
even sit on command and eats trash and my mother’s Manolo
Blahniks ““ gets his fair share of love.
“Al is my favorite child,” my mom said. “He
has added so much joy to my life (that) it is
unbelievable.”
With all of this adoration, I figured it was time for the world
to experience Al. Naturally, I tried to enter him in some dog shows
for purebreds. So what if he may be part terrier, part pit bull,
part cat? He’s cute. So, I drafted the following e-mail and
sent it out to a bunch of kennel clubs.
“I have a very cute dog named Al, who is a terrier mix.
Probably the cutest. Are there any dogs shows coming up soon? I am
willing to travel around the world to take him to victory. … Can
you help me? Thanks.”
While I waited for various organizations to call me back, I had
an enlightening phone conversation with Natalie, a representative
of the International All-Breed Canine Association of America. The
following is a transcript of our conversation.
DM: Hello. I am new at this, but my dog is very cute. His name
is Al, and I want to put him in your show where he will win.
N: OK. Well, the first thing you need to do is get him
registered with us. What is his breed?
D: That’s the thing. … He is a mutt.
N: I am sorry, but we have to have a pedigree.
D: But he is really cute.
N: We wouldn’t take that. It has to be a purebred.
D: Is there any way?
N: We couldn’t, but let me double check. (While on hold, I
hum that popular Kylie Minogue song.)
N: No, Al can’t be in our show.
D: Well, have you seen the hit television show
“Frasier?” Al looks like Frasier’s dog, Eddie,
but he’s a little bigger.
N: Oh. That is cute!
D: See?
N: We don’t go by cute. We go by how well the dog meets
standards, and besides, we couldn’t register it, anyway. It
has to be at least a three-generation pedigree.
Well, maybe Natalie doesn’t go by cute, but I do. After
Natalie, the responses to my e-mail were even more sobering.
This comes from Lisa Rooney of the Northwest Molosser Group:
“Unfortunately, we do not accept mixed-breed dogs at our
shows. Good luck with everything, I’m sure your terrier will
do extremely well. My first dog was a terrier cross, too, and what
a cutie.”
Hey Lisa Rooney, who cares about your dog?
No one.
Your dog being a “cutie” doesn’t get Al into
your dog show.
I’m tired of this. It’s ridiculous.
Miller loves words with accent marks, like blasé and
détente.
E-mail him at dmiller@media.ucla.edu to discuss
tildes.