It's a dog's life

Finally. Someone in my family manages to score a first place win. You may recall that my family (and by "my family" I mean "me") has been plagued by second-place (i.e., first loser) finishes lately.

Saturday ended the trend.

Because my dog, my sweet little Gravy, won his division in the neighborhood dog show.



We won't discuss how the judges are friends of mine. Nor will we discuss how they suggested I enter him in the "medium" category instead of "small" because there was no competition in that category. Because those things might be facts. That we're not talking about.

We will, however, discuss that, while he won his category (medium) (did I mention that he weighs about 16 pounds and is 9 inches tall?) (or that he's a pomeranian/papillion mix) (which probably means he's small, not medium) (oh, and he's deaf and half his face is paralyzed, too), he did not win "best in show".

Because a chicken won that. Literally.

And we live in Downtown Memphis.

'Nuff said.