Rachel Dugan Crufts taught me to let sleeping dogs lie
THE arrival of the puppy has precipitated a change in our TV viewing. Animalfocused programming is now front and centre. ‘Supervet’, which features Laois vet Noel Fitzpatrick, is the favourite, with ‘Secret Life of the Zoo’ a close second.
So in our house, last week’s coverage of Crufts had binge-fest written all over it.
But I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the world’s biggest dog show is not just about bouffant poodles and strutting shih tzus. Slotted in between the parading pooches was flyball, a fast and furious canine sport. Teams of dogs – with catchy names like the Warrington Wizards – sprint relay-style over a series of fences to retrieve a ball. Think competitive fetch meets the 100m hurdles.
Less thrilling and definitely more of an acquired taste is Heelwork to Music. Handlers wearing dodgy costumes that look like their mum made them prance around the darkened arena with their sometimes similarly attired dogs. The spotlight follows the pair’s interpretivedance-meets-doggieagility ‘performance’. Either this is your thing (and for those who enjoy sequins and awkward amateur dramatics, it just might be) or it’s a cringe-fest of such magnitude you’ll be left suffering from a jazz-handsinduced form of PTSD.
But back to the main event. After four days of competition, we settled in on Sunday evening (I say settled but his royal highness was spread-eagled across the middle of the couch, leaving myself and my other-half perched precariously on the edge) to watch the grand finale, Best in Show.
After all the blow-dried fringes and floorsweeping topcoats, in the end it was a sleek, minimalist whippet who took the top-dog crown. But there was yet more drama to come in the form of a stage invasion by a couple of animal rights protesters. Amid the chaos, the winning handler scooped her pooch off the podium. Minutes later, a disembodied hand came into shot and whipped the gleaming winner’s trophy off to safety. I instinctively reached out and put a protective hand on the puppy’s flank, only to find he was asleep. I considered waking him so he could see the protesters being dragged away by some burly security men but thought better of it. Sleeping dogs and all that...
Popcorn and pooches
STICKING with the dog theme, I have written before about the trials and tribulations of welcoming a puppy into your life, and the parallels I suspect can be drawn with becoming parent. All that brown goop with the consistency of soft-serve ice-cream, the rousing yourself in the middle of the night to tend to another, the heart-string-yanking crying and, of course, the limitless outpouring of love for the new arrival. Both situations also necessitate a certain curbing of social outings – though one, admittedly, more than the other.
Still, with people forking out for doggy daycare in their droves these days, nobody leaves their four-legged friend in the evening lightly.
So my ears metaphorically pricked up when I read about an innovative Dublin cinema holding a dog-friendly screening of the new Wes Anderson film ‘Isle of Dogs’.
Sadly, however, I was not alone and the event sold out within hours.
Some on social media thought it madness to bring a dog to a cinema but parent and baby screenings are very much an established part of Irish cinema schedules – why not parent and pooch?
I, for one, am hoping that the ferocious interest in this one-off screening will prompt cinemas to consider making them a regular thing.
Popcorn and pooches, anyone?
Rover calling...
BUT if pet-friendly cinema doesn’t catch on, I could always invest in a petmonitoring system which, using two-way webcam and audio, as well as a treat dispenser, lets you communicate with your pet while you’re out and about.
This digital doggie daycare means you can ‘coo’ and ‘good boy’, dispense pellets with the abandon of a crack dealer and even have your ‘scent’ spritzed in your pet’s direction via the wall-mounted unit. And all while you’re at the office or out shopping.
The one flaw is that in some versions, by simply pressing a pad on the floor, your pet can actually call you.
I’m pretty sure that by the time I got to open my first email in work, I’d have 16 missed calls from my dog.
And let’s be honest, while I don’t mind ignoring calls from bothersome relatives or persistent PRs, no one wants to have to start screening man’s best friend.