2,271 dogs. Me and Rose went to a dog show. It wasn’t as far as the lake we go to, but it was farther than the dog park. I think it was called West World? The show was Fiesta Cluster, sounds like a candy bar. I”m not allowed to have candy bars.
We didn’t get to be in the show, we watched with our two legged companions. I don’t understand why I couldn’t run around with the dogs in the ring. I’m a pretty girl — everybody says so. Anyways we watched. We watched little itty bitty dogs. I think they were called “Have a Sneeze” dogs and great big dogs called “Great Danish.”
I talked to lots of dogs. I sang with an Irish setter. And he sang back. Rose doesn’t sing with me. She dances with me, but she doesn’t sing. Some two legged creatures thinks that’s howling but it’s not. It’s singing. It’s singing because I do it when I’m happy and sometimes when I’m sad. I was a happy girl today, so I sang a lot.
Oh, I met Tim. He’s a boy golden receiver, like in football, I think, like Donald Driver is a receiver for the Green Bay Packers. He was wearing this cover with ruffled lace on it, no not Donald Driver, the golden receiver, Tim. People could put money in the pockets. That was cool because he said he was part of a group called Power Paws Assistance Dogs. So like if you can’t hear or see very well, then a puppy girl or boy will come to help you.
I can’t tell you everything that happened at the dog show in one blog, so hang on for tomorrow. Oh one more thing. I met the Mom’s of two Westminister Show Championships. No, really I did. I will tell your tomorrow. And Rose gets to blog tomorrow. She hogs the computer ya know. Once she gets those big red paws on that keyboard, I can’t even squeeze in.
Kate, the cute one