Fetching a High Price

The 2017 International Dog Show?

An alluring Flamenco guitar performs the introduction piece for a dog show hosted in Madagascar. The paralyzing chord progression of Am, C, F, and E reverberates a palpable sense of wanting to enact revenge as the innocuous spectators listen silently:

I can’t say things or else they’d come after you too

And you ask why I think they’re keen to know my point of view

I’m not sure Doc but your questions makes it seem like you have a clue

And I hear the dogs barking so without further ado

Here’s the 2017 International Dog Show for me and for you

The HOUNDS - Shura

When the hound group appears from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement, the crowd cheers like it were the answer to their problems. The baying dogs with blissfully naïve facial expressions follow each other in a frenzied fashion while the five handlers wear masks and try not to trip. A young Afghan hound named Voodoo, third in line and overly-spirited, catches my attention by acting a certain way and imparting a certain idea. This idea of convincing the two judges that she’s their first choice on the menu, the first pick of the hive, the best in show. Juxtaposed by a golden leash, Voodoo’s human companion looks like the type of individual that says ‘ow’ when their pencil lead breaks or gets nervous talking to females. We all have multiple layers of identity but the canine’s behavior seems more accurate for this occasion. External tension increases when the judges squint their chins, scratch their eyes, and scribble down names in a font that doctors tend to possess. I’m hesitant to make any connections but they award a blue ribbon to the only dog I mention by name. Voodoo’s joyful astonishment is genuine as if she’s unsure this is happening outside her imagination. The other hounds disappear behind the sponsored dog food advertisement rather than being sacrificed like losing members of a Native American ball game. The champion flashes her white triangles at cameras that smile back hoping to modify behavior.

The WORKINGS - Bora

A darker gentleman sitting in the row behind me says there’s nothing like being at a dog show, followed by asking if he’s right. He looks like the type of individual that was born into an affluent life according to his braided hairstyle and luxurious diamond watch engraved with the words, ‘hereditary aristocrat.’ My skull nods twice expecting to wrap up the unintended conversation but the human’s cognitive juke box wants to play more songs. His raspy voice emulates that of a mentally deranged jaguar while explaining that he is the illustrious prince of Madagascar, Ha-Ha Hamosh. He adds that a handshake is off the table because he just ate canned peaches and his fingers are still sticky. The working group appears from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement like a paragraph with multiple topics. A St. Bernard, Rottweiler, Great Dane, Siberian Husky, and a Newfoundland imitate humans dancing the conga at a wedding. The prince points to the spotted Great Dane named Novella and says that there were only Good Danes until he became financially involved with the breed. Anyone with anticipatory anxiety would’ve fared well because the judges award Novella the blue ribbon within sentences.

The SPORTINGS - Sirocco

“Addictions, addictions, fresh bags of addictions here,” chimes a food vendor who looks like the friend of a friend that invested an unhealthy amount of time on a Where’s Waldo puzzle. That same friend of a friend that spent half of his waking day playing Yu-Gi-Oh by himself in ninth grade. That same friend of a friend that also went to In-N-Out twelve times in eight days over the summer of 2016. Ha-Ha Hamosh bites his fist and squirms in his seat as if the thought of addiction were getting under his skin. He asks me if I want to know how to fight an addiction, but I’m sure his ears want to hear it too. The sporting group appears from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement unaware that the natural order of society is inching towards chaos. The prince explains it’s the habits and beliefs we develop that change us more than any chemical experience can. That our personal, behavioral, and environmental determinants intermingle like the branches of an effective yet imaginary U.S. government. The thing about addictions is that when we take them away, our minds want to fill in the void with something else like attending dog shows or eating canned peaches. A Golden Retriever named Pareto leads the linear pack of canine cult members on a short pilgrimage towards the nonreligious locus where judges reward the best in show with blue ribbons. Call it fate or coincidence but those in power deem Pareto to be the chosen one.

The HERDINGS - Blizzard

The herding group appears from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement aiming to appeal to the crowd’s emotions by howling the song, I Gotta Feeling, by the Black Eyed Peas. I can’t speak for the rest of the humans in the arena but they sure biased my perspective of them because it’s my favorite song. A Border Collie, German Shepard, Bouvier des Flandres, and an Old English Sheepdog understand that this experiment won’t last forever as their docile paw prints halt in front of the two judges. Ha-Ha Hamosh’s hands retreat into another can of peaches and he says to be careful when they appeal to emotions. A rumbling whirlwind shakes the building like a dog after an unwanted bath and spooks the power supply into short-circuiting. The prince mumbles what could be confused for midnight incantations and the dogs on display howl the paralyzing chord progression of Am, C, F, and E. My stomach falls into a well when the lights flicker back to homeostasis and all the humans in the crowd have transformed into lifeless peach slices except for Ha-Ha Hamosh and myself. A hand-stitched cardboard box containing Novella’s spots and Voodoo’s golden leash rests in the seat to my right with an unassuming expression of freedom and revenge. The German Shepard named West wins best in show but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore. The judges ascend to our seats like indignant detectives who exhibit no signs of compassion when they squish the peach slices of a used-to-be human family of four.

The TERRIERS - Vayu

The terrier group appears from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement and look like literal lost puppies longing to be observed. The judges both wear vermillion jackets which ineffectively contour to their female body structures and the burning smell of teeth being drilled hovers around their matching 80’s hairstyles. The scariest part of a government is the army but the scariest part of these dog show judges are their insipid eyes which make me realize that I can do everything right and still not have it work out. The taller one named Emily Wolfe tells the older one she’s never judged an event where someone kidnaps the winners and replaces the crowd with peach slices. The older one named Lyla Lobos stares me down and says neither has she. Prince Ha-Ha Hamosh acts like he can’t believe it’s not butter when the contents of the hand-stitched cardboard box are shown on the jumbotron. Somebody managing the camera crew is advised to not film forensic evidence and replaces it with the flummoxed terrier group which still have no idea of what’s going on. With a cynical smile, Wolfe reveals a fresh bag of addictions from a pocket inside her jacket like a paragraph dealing with the same basic script but improvised differently. Lobos says that I either want to be helped or I don’t and that she judges dogs not character. The terrier group drools puddles of attention hoping their old way of thinking will modify behavior but they look anxious not enticing. The prince yawns and whispers that individuals who are anxious about a threatening situation tend to seek out others facing the same threat.

The TOYS - Gale

The toy group doesn’t appear from behind a sponsored dog food advertisement. A pug named Neuron convinces the four Chihuahuas that he can create a better environment for them since the sliced public is getting it wrong here. Wolfe awards a blue ribbon to the fresh bag of addictions and wonders why I’m behaving this way. The three of them cough out a line of H’s and A’s when I suggest the prince might be the culprit. Ha-Ha Hamosh gazes at Novella’s spots and says that there were only Good Danes until he became financially involved with the breed. The jumbotron captures the awkwardness of the situation and somebody managing the camera crew thinks it would be humorous to play the song, I Gotta Feeling. The peach slices flicker back to their human forms long enough to cheer like it were the answer to their problems and then return to homeostasis. Wolfe says it’s okay to be prone to corruption since most of us are but not acknowledging it can create intellectual twisters like a false sense of self. A voice in my head says I’m not in the wrong maybe just around it. The food vendor who looks like the friend of a friend disappears behind the sponsored dog food advertisement.

THE PARAGRAPH GROUP

“What I enjoy most about the paragraph group,” begins the vermillion-eyed commentator, “is how they share details yet still maintain exuberant personalities. And when they’re all together, waiting to be judged, it feels like a dream sometimes. There’s a - oh wait, I believe the judges have made their decision. They pass Shura, Bora, and - how exciting, folks! Sirocco has been awarded the blue ribbon! Golly, there’s nothing like being at a dog show, am I right?”