National Dog Show still winning hearts
Learn how the tradition started
OAKS, Pa. — It’s the most wonderful time of the year … for dog lovers. We speak, of course, of a sacred Thanksgiving tradition for millions of Americans: Before the turkey and football, they curl up on the couch to watch the National Dog Show.
The contest airs on NBC after the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, allowing Mom, Dad, kids, Grandma — and, yes, even the family pet — to see the fourlegged competitors, root for their favorite breeds and guess who will win Best in Show.
The 20 million fans glued to the television this year already know the answer: GCHP Pinnacle Tennessee Whiskey, a fawn-colored whippet from Sugar Valley, Ga. Whiskey, with his elegant lines and big brown eyes, beat the crowd favorites — a Doberman pinscher and a King Charles Cavalier spaniel — and the front-runner, a wire fox terrier that had tons of buzz and a glittering string of Best-in-Show victories from around the globe.
Aside from being wildly popular, the two-hour broadcast has a secret, rare in this day of breaking news and social media: The show was actually held last weekend, but the results remained closely guarded for six days.
“I have a great friend from the Irish bar we used to hang out at who’s a bigtime sports gambler,” says David Frei, who has been a co-host of the NBC’s National Dog Show since it first aired in 2002. “He would always ask who won. I said, ‘You’re not trying to turn this into some sort of a bet, are you?’ He’s said, ‘No, no. I’m going to dinner with my family and I just want them to think I’m pretty smart about dogs.’”
And that, my friends, is the simple genius behind this show. People love dogs. They love to own them: There are 90 million pet dogs in the United States. They love to shop for them: Owners will spend $59 billion this year on food, vet care, toys, outfits and more, including dog birthdays.
And they love to watch them on Thanksgiving: The National Dog Show is the highest-rated canine contest in the country, trouncing both Puppy Bowl on Super Bowl Sunday and the Westminster Dog Show in February.
Frei’s co-host, actor John O’Hurley, calls it the “happiest day of the year. I’ve always said I’m a better person with a dog in my lap. They just have an infectious influence on our lives. You see it in this room: Everyone was happy today.”
The show is the brainchild of Jon Miller, president of programming for NBC Sports. In 2002, the Bethesda, Md., native saw Christopher Guest’s movie “Best in Show,” a comedy about a fictitious dog show. The lifelong dog lover thought a real dog show could work on television if the time slot was right — say, a family holiday. He convinced Purina to sponsor it and contacted the oldest dog show in the country: The Kennel Club of Philadelphia, which first exhibited dogs at the 1876 Centennial Exposition.
Then Miller went to his bosses, who were dubious that a dog show could be called sports, or even good television. But reruns of “It’s a Wonderful Life” after Macy’s parade had lousy ratings, so Miller got the green light to have those two hours — but only for that year.
“You know what?” Jeff Zucker, who was then his top boss, told him. “It can’t do worse. Let’s give it a shot.”
The renamed “National Dog Show” first aired in November of that year. Miller prayed it would match the ratings of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” about 1 million viewers. He was at the movies the next morning when Zucker called: “Did you see the numbers for your dog show?” More than 18 million people had watched — bigger ratings than most prime-time hits. “That doesn’t happen a lot in our business,” says Miller. An overnight classic (and a big moneymaker for NBC ) was born.
From the beginning, the show has had two co-hosts: Frei, an internationally recognized expert on purebred dogs and father of the therapy dog movement, and dog lover O’Hurley, best known for playing J. Peterman on “Seinfeld.”
“I’m the brains behind the operation,” jokes Frei.
“And I take that genius and make it palatable for America,” counters O’Hurley.
The two are close friends and rock stars at dog shows, constantly being stopped for selfies in person or, failing that, with their cardboard cutouts. But both insist the dogs deserve the attention.
“We want to get as many camera close-ups of the dogs so that everybody has a chance to feel what we feel about them,” O’Hurley says.
About 10 years ago, Hall of Fame sportscaster Mary Carillo added the show to her duties (pro tennis, Olympics) because she adores dogs. She’s worked both Westminster and this show — Westminster is a bit more reserved, she says, while the National Dog Show is more fun.