Stump the Sussex Spaniel

I'm in love with Leopold, the Great Dane. More correctly known as Ch Sasdania's The Prophecy, he stole my heart away and, incidently, won Best of Breed. He didn't make it to Best in Show competition so I am sure he and his handler/owners appreciate his titular position here at elle est belle la seine la seine elle est belle.

With my abject apologies, I just don't get Stump, the Sussex Spaniel that took Best in Show. Sired by Ch Three D Genghis Khan, the dam to Ch Clussexx Three D Grinchy Glee was the ever effervescent Ch Clussexx Sprinkled With Dew. So who has been dropping acid -- putting this dog in the "sporting" group? He looked... tired. Exhausted. Almost asleep. But clearly, I know nothing -- the crowd went wild everytime the poopy-faced 10 year-old Sussex Spaniel took center stage. (He had to take rest breaks every 10 paces.)


The Scottish Deer Hound was pretty impressive -- but did they have to name him Tiger Woods? In the end, despite obvious beauty and stellar breeding -- a little too tweedy. Far too casual, far too something that some bonny nanna might knit and purl.


The Brussels Griffon made everyone's list, I think -- incredibly perky, with an air of agreeable insubordination about him that is endearing. He clearly thinks himself quite The Big Bad Boy, that little griffon! Prancing around on tiptoes, cutting his eyes -- he'd make a great Best in Show, but no-o-o-o! We want that tired old Stump.


Making it all great fun for me, and everyone, was Mary Carillo. I have enjoyed her since her tennis days -- and am ready to crack up whenever she is doing commentary. She has really branched out -- the Westminster Dog Show, Chinese cultural doodad reporting during the Olympics, as well as maintaining her bread-and-butter sport of tennis. She and John McEnroe are old mixed-doubles partners, and together they are a regular riot.

It hardly needs saying that I know absolutely nothing about dogs in the context of good breeding traits -- my context is one of friendship, man's best friend, that sort of sloppy thing. My last dog was Emma, a sorta golden retriever from a local shelter. She was the embodiment of joy.

photos courtesy of Westminsterkennelclub.org