By Squiggle. Dateline: Manhattan
You know by now that it has been a sterling week for dachshunds thanks to Cinders the wire-haired dachshund taking out the hound section of the Westminster Kennel Club’s Dog Show in New York, New York. That’s right – wire-haired. Take that smoothies.
It’s only the third time in 136 runnings of the competition that a dachshund of any variety has taken out Best Hound. (I should know, I’ve been to most of these shindigs and won one of them). Anyhow, congratulations Cinders – you’re one talented bitch.
As part of my annual pilgrimage, I join other dogs of note at Sardi’s in the theatre district for lunch. Each year the Best in Show winner – this year a Pekingese called Malachy – joins us for meat from a silver platter. Great PR photo opp. The press hounds eat it up, just like Malachy and the free lunch. Everybody wins – belly rubs all round. It’s been that way since the late sixties.
Ah; the sixties. Heady days. We were all longhairs back then, whatever our breed. Widespread spading had ushered in the sexual revolution. I was driving to San Francisco when I picked up a beatnik hitchhiker named Robert Zimmerman… but I digress.
Well this year, the health department has stepped in to the picture. Haven’t they got cats to trap? Oh – if you think lunch for dogs at famous Broadway restaurants is a photo opportunity too far you ain’t seen nothin yet. Hello Wall Street.
Right I’m off to see The Book of Mormon. Ciao.