Seeing as I missed the summer festivities, I was very excited to take the boys to the smaller winter version.
I imagine the smaller version gets half the amount of people. That's 150 000 people and at least that many dogs (but then there are people like me who have two). It's no wonder that the moment you walk inside the festival area, your nostrils are hit with a very strong mix of poop/pee/cleaner.
I hadn't thought of that.
Obviously that is what makes the outdoor one better. At least the combined stench of 300 000 dogs enters the atmostphere and doesn't reach a ceiling keeping it contained.
My dogs are no better than the other pooping pooches. Even though both had JUST gone to the bathroom outside, Brooklyn immediately made his 'mark' on the carpet. That's right folks. Carpet. So the festival took place in the convention centre and as opposed to leaving the ground it's normal cement self, the people of Woofstock covered the ground with carpet.
Ugh.
I feel bad for the people whose job it was (and indeed there were people) to run after crapping canines with a bottle of disinfectant and paper towels.
We made sure to keep clear of the 'spots' that dotted the carpet. Newly cleaned but I did end up with poop on my shoe more than once.
You know how society makes fun of cat people? Well, dog people are no better. My friend and I were amazed at all the odd folks this sort of festival attracts.
There were two poodles (I think, some sort of mix anyways) that were dyed pink and green. DYED! Who dyes dogs? Okay, I know someone who puts a little green highlight on her maltese's head - and it's cute. But the whole animal?
The oddest thing was, and I am sure I will get in trouble for saying this, was that the owners of pink poodles were a lesbian couple. And not the lipstick variety. I guess I was surprised because if you told me that there was a woman who dyed her poodle pink, I would imagine one of those women who is shockingly thin, is married to an old rich guy, and hires a dog walker as opposed to walking the dogs herself. Not a Rosie O'Donnell clone.
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| These are not the actual dogs, I just wanted to show you how crazy it is when you dye dogs |
There were a plethora of yorkies. Compared to other Yorkie owners, I am the most unprissy one. Which is saying a lot. Almost every Yorkie we saw was (A) teacup variety (B) wearing clothes and (C) in a bag. And then there was my Yorkie: pooping on carpets and licking other dogs' genetalia.
Then there was one dog who looked like a cross between a hyena and a monster. I usually think all dogs are cute, but this poor fellow might have been the ugliest creature I have ever seen. My friend wanted to know what his breed was, and the steroid eating owner quiped 'Chinese Ching Chong'. We aren't sure if he was trying to be funny or racist - but we can't find that breed anywhere. Here is what comes up when you google images for Ching Chong Chinese Dog:
I entered Mr. Mop in a contest to be on the cover of a dog magazine. I have been waiting for the pictures from that session to appear online, but it seems Mr. Mop didn't even make the cut. Or they haven't uploaded Winter Fest yet. Not that he would make cover boy. I think he is possibly the cutest dog ever, but he hadn't been brushed or bathed in weeks. Poor guy didn't stand a chance. Not to mention I had cut matts from around his muzzle so he was very uneven and he had a spaghetti sauce stain between his eyes.
Mr. Mop has had some unusual grooming in his little life. From the time I asked the groomer to keep most of his length but cut out his mats - he came home looking resembling swiss cheese. Then the time I asked them to cut the mats from his head but (again) leave the length. He had a flat top and reminded me of a Muppet character. Just yesterday he went in for a bath and brush. I asked the groomer to make him not look ponsy. She eyed me strangely. I just told her he doesn't need to look like a Bichon or a Poodle. So now he looks like a lamb.
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| Typical Bichon pouffy look |
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| Mr. Mop's flat top |
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| Baa |
Anyhoo, back to our Woofstock. Basically, it was a whole bunch of booths selling dog stuff. We got a blanket and toys for subscribing to the Star, and free dog tags from Frou Frou. We were all about the free.
Despite the foul smelling hall, poop on my shoe, and various other doggie grievances (Mr. Mop chomping on other dogs' heads, Brooklyn getting gang-humped) it was all in all enjoyable to see I am not the craziest dog owner out there.
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