No Bathing the Dogs

On HUMAN bathroom Doors at the Dog Show

Disclaimer: I have dogs. I love dogs. I have never shown dogs. I have horses, I love horses. I show horses. I HAVE DONE and STILL DO all the ridiculous things one does, for a horse show, to the horses, all the things. I am not exempt from my own observations.

Onto the show.

How did I get to a dog show to be the designated medical-person-on-staff as required by the rules, anyway? (No, I am not an EMT, or an RN. This I have clarified, so far, to about 252 people, including the lovely lady with neuropathy who just fell on the floor. She is fine.)

Other people on this earth have basic medical skills. They do.

‘How I got Here’ is that late last year, in 2025 I accepted a new job at a different hospital. One of my direct reports had already shared that if I left, he was leaving too and he did, to Portland, OR. He had been the designated medical person at this particular show for the last few years, because his mother, and his grandmother are involved in the operation of this show. Nepotism. It does happen outside of the U.S. Government.

Anyway, he didn’t want to make that drive from PDX and asked if I wanted to take the spot (it pays well). So, I did. That’s how I got here. I have horses; I need to buy hay; lots of it.

I am tucked into a corner behind the Operations Booth,  which is staffed by volunteers selling show catalogs, and is located beside the ‘Superintendent' s’ desk, which is staffed by a very small, very stern, crew-cut shorn, quite rude (you WILL be in my WAY), headset wearing man who, I swear to you, is a reincarnated Jack Russel terrier who needs TPLO surgery. I’m not making this up. OK, I am.

As an aside, my favorite horse show manager does not snap at people, ever. This is one reason I love her.

So. The dog show. I am in the exhibition hall where the breed shows are held. It’s like if all the horse breeds came to the same place, competed separately by breed, then the separate winners faced off at the end, when 90% of the people are GONE, and one of the horses from one of the breeds is declared the BEST in SHOW. I’d really love to see a mini hose win that contest. That would be fun.

All the breeds are here, from Afghans to  Zuchons; stacked, racked, shellacked and bearing registered names like ‘ PH Straight Shot to the Stars’, and so and so’s Affair to Remember (that’s gotta have a backstory).

• The Afghans are amorphous

• The Beagles are Beguiling

• The Bulldogs are Bulky

• The Corsos are Corpulent

• The Corgis are CUTE!!!!

• The Dachshunds are Darling (especially the long haired ones)

• The Havanese are Hairy

• The Poodles are Primped (like, SERIOUSLY)

• The Setters are Stately

• The Terriors are…..well,  Terriors

• The Vizslas are Vivacious

But I am so sorry, the Golden Retrievers are just Delightfully Delicious, and I can’t even look at those Mini Chihuahua things sized to fit into a pillbox, without wondering how they are even called a dog. I mean, seriously, the handlers have to walk backwards to trot them forward.

Break for Tylenol and band-aid delivery.

Now can we get to the good stuff? Let’s talk about the people.

These breed shows attract a whole lot of people, lots and lots of people and they come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, persuasions and hair colors. They also arrive with various states of disability and disability durable medical equipment. That’s pretty cool, and the venue is disability friendly for spectators and participants alike. I just watched a pampered, primped snow-white standard poodle run through the ring accompanied by and alongside a motorized 3-wheel wheelchair that the owner steered with bicycle handlebars.

The dogs must be perfect physical specimens, but the people do not.

Regardless, there are rules of engagement (whether they’re official or not I dunno, and I’m not looking it up).

The proper handler’s attire is a suit. It can apparently be a dress, with a jacket over the top, or occasionally a dress only. This appears so set in stone that there’s a vendor here selling just suit jackets. They’re used. The entire rack smells faintly of dogs. The jackets are cropped, blazer, sequined, zipped, fringed, plain, collared or not. If you’re thrifting and find a Tahar, Coldwater Creek, St. Johns, Woolworth or other jacket for $5.00, know they’re worth about $65.00 and up to the right dog show handler. The skirt length seems to matter, at just above the knee; the skirt shape tends toward pencil. Blink, blink. Might be room for a vendor consulting on flattering fit. Not all human buttocks present well in a stretchy pencil skirt (mine included).  Shoes are flat and built for trotting with a dog. Some have glitter.

My favorite outfit was the  Scottish Terrier accompanied a presenter dressed in a plaid skirt. It worked.

The men are also in suits. Sadly, only the ties are repped by a vendor. The shoes for the men are, to a man, those tennis-shoe soled, business-casual leather ones. Brown. Two-tone brown and brown. They’re brown.

Handlers use a ‘conformation lead’ to show the dogs. They are tiny choke-collar leads that sit behind the dog’s ears. They match the dog’s coat if you’re paying attention. I just looked it up and the reasons are: unobtrusive, communicative, don’t hide the dog’s conformation.  I would think that dogs are smart enough to understand that that lead means show time, meaning show behavior. That stance (stack) and gaits required are then understood. I think. Can’t tell in some cases (ahem..Shelties).

Handlers quite often have a towel hanging off a belt or out of their pocket. Ditto a round brush stuck somewhere upsetting a jacket flap or inserted into a belt in the most unseemly way, which sort of ruins the whole ‘good suit’ thing. IMHO.

Then there’s the comb storage. The comb used for some dog’s coats is about a 10 inch, small toothed, metal comb about 1.5 inches in height. Favorite storage point? In the handler’s hair, right above the pony tail. I thought it was a fashion trend till I looked closely. Through the ring with it they go. I dunno. That’s just weird. I don’t want my own head of hair to be laced with dog undercoat from a dog comb. Ew.

The Comb

Last but not least (in fact the most important tool)..is the ‘bait’. Can we talk about the ‘bait’? The bait is a treat (in my lingo) but is used to keep the focus of the dog straight ahead, or something. An entire style section and YouTube instruction video could be produced about the use and style of ‘bait’ in a conformation class. It’s got class, it’s got style, it’s got finesse…a little pass behind the back, a certain waggle of the fingers and bend of wrist. The tease, the motion; the elegant panache ooo lalala , however, the MOST fascinating and slightly disturbing part is the STORAGE and RETRIEVAL of said bait. One must be able to instantly store and retrieve it.  Guess where that is?

• Pocket in the jacket. Seems normal.

• Under the rubber band holding the contestant number onto the LEFT upper arm of the handler..also seems reasonable.

• Inside the bra…yes, yes, yes quite common. Here judge, lemme reach in and grab some bait..then it goes back in there. Dog infused bras.

• Direct from handler’s mouth to dog’s mouth and BACK. Is this what separates the true dog lovers from the dog enthusiasts? Some of these handlers go direct to the next ring with the next dog, and REPEAT this, all day. What? That’s gross people, gross.

  
  

One of these vendors needs to invent a strap-on bait holder. Seriously.

As to the frequently heard observation that people shape attracts dog breed, or vice verse…there are some precisely matched people shape to dog shape, inclusive of hair and hair color, yes, and all this makes sense until you see the entire Great Pyrenees group run by itsy bitsy woman whilst the Yorkshire group are run by quite the opposite. There’s a physiological correlation lurking in there someplace, for those breeds.

In the end, what’s important, is neither the specific dog, specific person in a specific suit, wearing specific shoes with a specific bait. What’s important is relationships. Dog to owner, owner to handler, handler to handler, judge to judge, volunteer to volunteer. A common structure in a common language, understood and embraced by each participant.  

It’s community, with dogs. Lots of dogs, and a few band aids.

And that community is loved.