Like every good American on Thanksgiving morning, Richard and I watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. We lost interest in the marching bands after awhile turning off the television until about five minutes before noon. It's not Christmas unless I see Santa Claus arrive in Herald Square.
A fairly new tradition follows the parade. The National Dog Show. Since I'm a dog lover, I watch to watch all the cute, furry animals. Richard watches to pick out his next dog. Mr. Peterman, of Seinfeld fame, announces that the AKC has recognized six new breeds this year. As the sporting group pranced out on the floor, the Boykin Spaniel is the first of the new kids on the block to take to the show ring.
"There's Ginger!" I exclaimed.
"Only Ginger would never be a show dog. Her teeth are crooked." Richard replied.
The show dog looked exactly like my Ginger. She was a deep chocolate brown with a curly coat, sparkling eyes and an infectious smile. The Boykin toddled across the floor just like Ginger walks down the street and hopped up on her handler like I've seen Ginger do a million times. The dog on TV didn't have the crooked teeth or a curled up lip but other than it was identical to my precious, Ginger.
"She's not used to the lights and the cheering crowd," says Mr. Peterman as the dog hopped and jumped for the judge instead of trotting across the ring like a well behaved animal.
Immediately I knew her actions had nothing to do with being nervous in front of the audience. The girl was a Boykin through and through.
My little girl who bounces around the house, stealing glasses from the table, and nibbles off my dinner plate is not unusually hyper or overly energetic. All her brothers, sisters and cousins have the same demeanor. Cute, cuddly, fiery and precious. And now Boykin Spaniels are on display for all the world to see. I couldn't care less about the other five new breeds. Ginger is a my Boykin Spaniel, pure bred, AKC, love of my life.
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