Doggy Dandies Do Their Darndest

Nearly 3,000 dogs descended on Long Beach on Wednesday for the American Kennel Club national championships, competing in contests of style and speed as well as strolling the streets and lounging in hotel rooms booked with dog fanciers from around the world.

Observed parking attendant Leonel Garcia: “There are definitely way more dogs than people.”

Two, three and four dogs to a hotel guest, estimated the valet at the Hyatt Regency. So many four-legged hotel guests have taken up residence there that special door hangers were made in English and Spanish -- Perro en este cuarto -- to warn maids that a dog was in the room.

By tonight, the three-day event will have poured $4.6 million into the city, said the president of the Greater Long Beach Visitors and Convention Bureau, Steve Goodling.

Part pageant, part barking carnival, it transformed the Long Beach Convention Center area into a huge dog park. More than 8,000 tickets had already been sold to spectators while dogs -- big dogs, small dogs, dogs in sweaters -- could be seen playing in any patch of grass, bounding out of cars, even riding hotel escalators.

At one point, the convention center public address system boomed with a request: “All schnauzers, please meet at the bathroom sign for a group photo.”

Throughout the day, attendees could watch dogs vault bars. Climb bridges. Even skitter up and down a teeter-totter. This high-energy athletic endeavor comes during the agility competition, the newest addition to the venerable tradition of dog sporting events.

More familiar are the twin contests -- conformation and obedience -- where style matters. A monster beauty parlor tent hummed all day beside the exhibit hall, blow-dryers aimed at a sea of fur, all preparing for canine close-ups.

“You spend more time combing their hair than combing your own,” giggled Maritza Pitaluga, who owns a Havanese, a fluffy, longhaired toy breed.

The grand prize was to be awarded late Wednesday night, climaxing the “best in show” competition that was spoofed in a comedy of the same name. It is this Christopher Guest movie, AKC organizers recognize, that informs most outsiders about the world of expensive show dogs.

Mindful of this, national championship directors take the spoof with good humor -- while calling it more parody than truth. Not everyone agrees.

“I think it’s a little close to home,” chuckled Gerry Brown, 45, of Austin, Texas, whose border collie Sterling finished first Wednesday with a time of a little more than 31 seconds in the agility contest for her size.

Dressed in bicycle shorts and a “Don’t Mess With Texas” T-shirt, Brown hardly looked the part of elitist or neurotic dog owner portrayed in the movie.

Still, he recognizes that his family considers him and his wife “dog dorks.” They spend $25,000 a year traveling to dog shows around the country.

They sleep with four of their dogs. And Brown abandoned his career as a company vice president and accountant to -- ahem -- start a dog training school.

One of his dogs has made the world team for agility, which is the only bigger deal than the nationals within the AKC. Brown has not lost his levity, though. Sure, some of his dogs have official names that sound like long-winded royal titles. But his non-show dog back home is named Fuzzbutt.

It is this attitude that finds a more comfortable home in the collegial agility arena, entrants said Wednesday. Whereas the conformity contests evaluate breeding stock, overall appearance and structure with a certain necessary subjectivity, the agility competition is devoid of a gray area. Dogs make a jump or not, and their time is there on a red scoreboard for the whole arena to see.

Besides, said one woman, if this were just a snooty crowd of weirdos obsessing about ear tassels and canine teeth whiteners, would Bo the great Dane be so welcomed into an event that’s best suited for the sprite-sized breed?

Over a booming microphone in the cavernous convention center, an announcer set an amusing tone early Wednesday. None other than Nancy Gyes, regarded among the top dog trainers in the world with the Power Paws school in San Jose, did the daytime honors.

Dogs were often introduced in tones reminiscent of Miss America contestants -- “Kelly Sissy Noneck hails from”.... “In his spare time, he watches a lot of TV.” One dog was even described as enjoying jet skiing.

As Zee Marie Moss of Las Vegas said with a big grin, one has to maintain a sense of the absurd amid the barking and wailing and big-money prizes -- the biggest being $50,000 and a sport utility vehicle.

Mr. Bojangles was one of only two great Danes entered in the agility course. Bo -- as he is called -- made a heroic showing, racing through the obstacle course in 42.26 seconds -- nearly 13 seconds less than the standard course time. It is not fast for a border collie but it is smokin’ for a dog that stands 6 feet when he decides to rear up on his hind legs for a hug.

Scores of fellow owners entered in the agility contests congratulated Moss, who comes from a city that understands putting on a show. She has no overriding drive to win ribbons -- it would be nice, though -- because Bo is her first dog.

Terrified of dogs all her life, Moss decided to get one to “heal my fear.” One might ask why she picked a dog that falls into the “giant” category.

But Moss, who runs a printing and Web site design business with her husband, Max, researched the breed and fell for its great attitude, ability to blend into families and sleek, low-maintenance coat.

Only after she paid $2,000 for her pedigreed puppy and attended an obedience class so that Bo would be well-behaved -- thus less daunting to strangers -- did she hear of shows. She went to one and fell in love with the spectacle.

“He already liked to climb under tables and beds,” she said, “so I just went with that, and it makes him good at the obstacle course now.”

Acknowledging the frequent comments about how good Bo might look with a saddle, she dressed her black 150-pounder in a pony costume with real horsehair. He also toted two signs: “applause” and “throw money.”

Moss has never thought about being among the country’s dog owners who spend $30 billion annually on their pets. They have high discretionary income -- able to afford the $520 solid gold Chihuahua pendant and 24-karat wiener dog brooches on sale from one of many vendors squeezed into center. The AKC show is consequently coveted by cities. Tampa has wooed the AKC next year, but Long Beach is still pitching for its 2005 return.

“They are one of our biggest shows, comparable only to the Mary Kaye” cosmetics convention, said Long Beach’s Convention President Goodling. “The AKC brings, not just their own delegates and conventioneers, but the general public” to a downtown that’s grown in the last several months by 3,000 housing units but still dreams of becoming a bigger visitor destination.

Bo, for his part, enjoyed the city and licked perhaps 4,000 hands over the course of the event. Wednesday, he bounded through his final agility event, placing 27th overall out of 199 dogs.

“That is wicked good,” said Moss. “I’m just freaking out.”