Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Chapter 15: Wiener Dog Race!

Ah…a day off to hang with my Dad while here in Morro Bay for a family get-together. Everybody is off doing something else, so hey, we need to do some male bonding, something manly, masculine, macho. You know, celebrate the essence of being male. So I saw this:



A Wiener Dog Race! The essence of a manly activity, small dogs dressed in outfits racing for the big prize! In spite of the typos, my dad and I decide to go. Even though, generally speaking, I refuse to attend events that have typos in their signage. If you own a Wiener Dog, you should know how to spell “wiener.” It is German, folks. The second vowel gets pronounced. All of their signage and newspaper articles perpetuated this misspelling of the lovely lowly “caninus hot doggus,” also known by me as “cornish game puppies.” (To quote Fred Willard from the movie, “Best In Show,” “And to think, in some countries, these dogs would be eaten…”) Well luckily, for the dogs, I’m a vegan…and I’m thinking, shouldn’t PETA [to which I belong] be protesting the incarceration and forced performance, racing, and absolutely silly, therefore humiliating to the dogs, costuming!? Wiener dogs have feelings, too. Maybe PETA should send a horde of very small protesters, set a size limit, no one over 5 feet tall allowed to protest, that way the little wieners would feel an affinity, a kinship, a bond, nay, a connection with the protesters of an equally diminutive size…one problem, the dogs were loving it! But maybe the little fellas should be set loose in some wiener dog sanctuary, to become free-range wiener dogs…fed only organic grains for food…but, hey, I digress…

So, this event was sponsored by http://www.tcsn.net/parks4pups/ to help raise some cash for the puppy park at Heilman (NOT Hielman…) Park in Atascadero, CA on 10-29-05. So, Dad and I pull up in his giant motorhome and park a ways a way and head for the event. Coming over the hill, my blood gets rushing as I hear the dramatic (and well loved by wiener dogs) song, Chariots of Fire…followed by the Rocky Theme…oh boy, I can just hear their little hearts starting to pound with excitement. All those months preparing for this day, The Race! But first…!

Like so many major, even life-changing, events in this country, a Wiener Dog Race is a patriotic event. I mean, what better symbol for the American way, than a Wiener Dog. Wiener Dogs know from patriotism. In fact, they have my vote to replace the eagle as our national bird. (?) So, the local scouts marched out the flag, and led us, and more than 200 wiener dogs in the Pledge of Allegiance. What an adorable vision, have you ever seen 200 plus wiener dogs try to put their right front paw over their heart all at the same time? And then, as is fitting for such an event, the announcer had all of us and the dogs be quiet while he played a CD, as a moment of respect for our country, of Lee Greenwood singing, “Proud to be an American.” What wiener dog doesn’t get teary-eyed hearing Lee Greenwod sing? I know I did. Looking at all those proud wiener dogs being moved by the music, I should say, proud AMERICAN wiener dogs. It was heart warming.

Time for the parade first! I positioned myself off to the side of the parade and was snapping photos, when I realized the gravity, the depth, even the historical importance of such an event. I should be willing to take a risk, so, without thought for my own safety, I laid down right in the middle of the oncoming onslaught (controlled stampede) of wiener dogs being led by a reindeer. A reindeer? Marcel Duchamp and other Dadaists and Surrealists would be pleased with the odd random elements of this event. Did the reindeer stand for something? Some unconscious psychological urge of the promoters? Was it just happenstance that there was a reindeer nearby and she/he agreed to lead the parade? I just don’t know. So, again, with no thought of self-preservation, I laid down and did my journalistic duty and snapped pictures of ankles and wiener dogs…here are a few of them:

[Comments follow some of the pics]








My father with scoring a T-Shirt...












Peanut and Etta Mae


Breanna and Dutch Boy


Ginger, a wire haired dachsund with some sort of parasitic growth on its back


Kelsie...a wiener's wiener...




Linda and Nate's Mr. Johnson




Dutchboy seems to be a quick change artist...




whoa...seem to have got into another nest of them...


























Puppy Park? More like brothel for Bowser...


















Betting, anybody? I've got a fiver on Mr. Johnson...I wonder if he would use his winnings at the brothel...I mean park?

1 comment:

Mamasan said...

Great job of covering this new (soon-to-be-Olympics) sport! I understand from others (well, one other —your father) that you truly captured the "flavor" of the event. I only wish that I was there to "savour" it with you. Please feel free to volunteer to write my column (the Chatterbox at cgsentinel.com) anytime.