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Archive for the ‘Animal Books, Movies, Games’ Category


A typical winter dawn at stunning Running Mountain Ranch, site of the Open Barn affair on New Years Eve day. Photo by Tish Pollock

Now, this is the way to spend New Year’s Eve: On horseback with animal-loving womenfolk!

Good friends Tish and Stacy began musing about having a ring-in-the-new-year party shortly before Christmas. An open house affair was discussed. That quickly morphed  into the idea of an Open Barn  to be held  at Tish’s on New Year’s Eve day. Party central would be the covered arena at the hub of her sprawling working ranch. Running Mountain Ranch is a rural sanctuary in the coastal hills of Western Oregon.

Looking down on the Running Mountain Ranch barns and arena from a trail in the hills above the Open Barn party site. Photo by Tish Pollock

Tish’s barn stretches on forever and is full of her Arabians and the strapping  warm-blood show horses of boarders. What a treat to watch these big-boned steeds being ridden by Tish’s resident dressage trainer, Lynne Salewski. She makes these guys move with grace and glory.

Dressage trainer Lynne is silhouetted as she mounts Cobus, the Friesian that starred in the 2009 movie, "The Dark Horse." Poor guy, he's big and brave, except for the poinsettia you see in the background. It must have looked like a weird predator to him: It scared the easy-going horse to trembling. Photo by James Sherman

One of them, a  giant black Friesian named Cobus, is even a movie star. He and Lynne were in the 2009 movie, “The Dark Horse,” acclaimed at several international film festivals. And yes, Cobus was  the leading man.

Quite fittingly, Stacy affectionately refers to Cobus as the  Antonio Banderas  horse — after the famous dark-eyed movie star.

I think we all felt a little starlet-like riding our horses around such a grand facility.  Something was happening in every corner. Some riders were giving cutting horses a  “play-date” experience completely devoid of competition and cows. Others were having easy rides on tried-and-true trail horses. Some rode English, others Western.

My Gal Gallop pals astride on New Years Eve day.From left to right, Katherine, whose horse is named Boone; Stacy on Sparky; Kelsey on Tucker; Diane on Bobby; and me on Callie. Photo by Jim Sherman

Stacy was astride her prancing senior-citizen black Morgan, Sparky. He seemed to have the most spark of any horse that day; hence his name, we presume. There was a long-legged paint, Tucker, ridden by Stacy’s daughter, Kelsey; another paint called Velvet; and of course, my Callie, who was quite excited to be out of her usual environs.

Tish also raises bearded collies and is active in herding dog circles; hence, several dog handler friends  and their fast and focused dogs were on-hand, busily urging sheep and ducks here and there. It’s always a treat to watch these savvy dogs at work.

Tish raises bearded collies at Running Mountain Ranch. This photo was taken the day the herding switch flipped for young Rock. It was like he awoke from a nap and suddenly knew what he'd been born to do. Then off he went, sweeping and dodging behind the wooly trio as Tish (upper left) helped direct the ewes for him.

I think it’s safe to say my hands, gloved and all, were colder than they’d ever been after some of us struck out to make a few loops around the wooded hillsides and slopes.

When we got our chilly selves back to the barn, I dismounted, pulled off my gloves, held my hands under Callie’s muzzle, and let her warm breath defrost them.

Once the horses were groomed and blanketed, we headed for the party room – the office in the barn.  Fudge, cookies, ham, biscuits and other delicious traditional holiday snacks and good cheer were waiting. The riding now done (Drinking and riding are not a good combo when it comes to staying safe in your saddle and atop your horse.), Tish had  chilled champagne waiting as well as mulled cider.

Tish is known for attention to detail, and her touch was quickly evident at the Open Barn. She had red, white and pink poinsettias placed along the edge of the arena with the sky as background. And she’d made the cutest little cheese-ball snowman complete with scarf and a carrot nose –a mini horse treat perhaps?

Actually, it became a dog treat later that day when Tish was transporting the  too-cute-to-eat snowman from barn to home post-party. She left a car door open when she went to get something else to return to her  kitchen. A visitor hurriedly jumped into the car. It was  Maverick, one of her bearded collies. “Mav” had his way with the cheese ball until Tish returned moments later . Then he abruptly exited the car with a leap, telltale pieces of nuts and cheese flying off his silky, hairy lower lip.

IT WAS  THE PERFECT TIME TO SHOW OFF MY NEW SLEIGH BELLS

These World War I - era sleigh bells were a Christmas gift from a friend who has known my animal-loving ways since childhood. Sleigh bells were commonly referred to as horse bells in Europe and rural America. Photo by Adam Sherman

The 30-bell strand was a  Christmas present from my oldest and dearest friend, Karen. I’ve been animal crazy since birth, I think. Karen, not so much. But she ALWAYS honors that about me. She and I do share a love of antiques and the history they carry forward. When she came across these World War I-era sleigh bells, she said she knew they were destined for me.

The bells were found in an old barn in Vermont. They’re extra-special and pretty hard-to-find, because they are circa World War I. Before the war, bells were created from brass. During the war, all brass was sucked into the making of shell casings, creating a brass shortage. Other available metals, especially tin and nickel, were used  as a brass substitute.

That’s how Karen knew these hushed-sounding  jingle bells were authentic — and antique: They have a gentler, more muffled sound than brass bells. Much lovelier to the ear in my book. I wonder what the horses would say about the bells’ differing sounds?

It was fun hearing the “oohs” and “awes” when I  showed them off during the ride after-party.

Tish, consider this as a tip of riding helmets and snow caps from us to you. Thanks for a blue-ribbon day. You throw a swell out-with-the-old and in-with-the-new party:  Dogs and horses concur.

The patina of the table contrasted with the deep, dark brown of the leather, reminds me of sunlight drifting into a barn through a hayloft window. Sun rays set the same mood in barns today. Oh the stories theses bells could tell about farming America in wartime. Photo by Adam Sherman


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Kobe thinking hard about jumping off the stairs to ambush Brooke. He ambushed me with licks and love when I, new to town and knowing no one, brought him home. Driving to meet him, I thought about how my life felt so upside down. The moment I met Kobe, it all started turning around. THANK YOU Kobe for finding me a place to start in our strange new town. Photo by Adam Sherman

Each day I take a few minutes to offer up thanks for much in my life, sometimes even for the challenges that tag along behind the blessings.  My dogs, cats, chickens, horse and those of friends are always in the top five. Today, Thanksgiving, my husband and I will spend time with friends, friends who have become our away-from-home family; folks who also put animals high on their gratitude list: How thankful we are to have them all in our life.

Brooke, our second Lab, came along about a year after Kobe moved in. Brooke is never still. Even in her sleep her paws are racing, her tail thumping, her body wiggling; and sometimes she sleep barks, too. She and Kobe are like best buds hanging out.

When we moved here the summer of 2007, I was painfully lonely. After I  found my first new friend, Kobe, “lonely” began packing up and moving out. Life soon became full and fun again. I took an obedience class with young Kobe, where he seemed to be sniffing out new friends for me. The class instructor, Sandy, became a close friend. Kobe and Sandy’s Rottweiler, Blitzen, became BFFs, too.

Sandy  introduced me to her neighbor, Stacy, who had nice-looking horses in her roadside pasture. The two of them rekindled my interest in riding, which led to my meeting a horse trainer and several cutting enthusiasts. And to finding my dream horse, Callie. Through Stacy, who raises pigs, I met Katherine, her rescued donkeys and goats, and her red horse, Boone.  Callie now seems smitten with Boone. A little name dropping here as I give thanks for other Oregon friends, including: Russell (He goes with Stacy.), Mark and Diane, Carolyn and Jim, Wanda and Carl, Teresa and Duane, Tish, Carmen and Norm, Sharon, Melda and Charlie, Carol, Annette, Leona, Dede and Tim, Cecily, Susan.

All  because of a dog. A dog I am grateful for everyday. He changed life for me, the way a guardian angel might. Kobe will be the first in our animal clan to be given a large piece of dark meat tonight.

Thank you Kobe, for letting me be yours.

I’d love to hear about the pleasant paths and happy endings animals have brought to your life.

Happy Thanksgiving all.

 

FOOTBALL  GOES TO THE DOGS

Televised football games and parades are as much a Thanksgiving Day tradition as the meal. If those aren’t your thing – or you want a respite — here’s a TV option you may want toview instead, the 10th National Dog Show on NBC. It follows the Macy’s Parade, and airs noon to 2 p.m. in all time zones.

If watching canine perfection in motion is more your thing than observing quarter-back passes and lineman tackles, set your kitchen timer to remind you when it’s time to cheer on the dogs. More than 20 million viewers do each year. This is one of the five remaining benched shows where dogs must be on display for the public all day.

Camino's Frida Kahlo is an Xoloitzcuintli, pronounced Show-low-its-queen-tli. The breed is also referred to as Xolo, Mexican Hairless and Tepeizeuintli. Newly recognized by the American Kennel Club (AKC), the Xolo will be introduced during the National Dog Show that airs noon-2 p.m. in all time zones, on NBC Thanksgiving Day. The Xolo is one of the world’s oldest breeds. Artifacts depicting the Xolo have been found in the ancient tombs of Colima, Mayan and Aztec Indians. The Xolo of today remains virtually unchanged from those of 3,000 years ago. The Aztecs enjoyed the hairless dogs as pets, but also as faux hot-water bottles. The warmth from their hairless bodies is said to have relieved stomach pains and rheumatic joints. Today, the breed is popular for obedience, agility and therapy dog work. To learn more about Xolos, visit http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/xoloitzcuintle.htm. Photo Courtesy of Camino Xoloitzcuintle via http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/xoloitzcuintle.htm

I always try to be near a screen for the portion of the show when the breeds newly recognized by the  American Kennel Club are introduced. Debuting this year are the: American English Coonhound;  Entlebucher Mountain DogCesky Terrier; Finnish Lapphund; Norwegian Lundehund (they have six toes); and Xoloitzcuintli. In all, 170 breeds will vie for the Best in Show title.

Don’t despair if the turkey needs to be carved or the gravy stirred just when you hoped to watch your favorite group of breeds: Herding, Hounds, Non-sporting, Sporting, Terrier, Toy and Working. When the dishes are done and leftovers stashed, go to www.NationalDogShow.com. There you can see judging of all the breed winners plus features and vignettes about the show.

Or, watch it in the kitchen on your smart phone. You might know, there’s an ap for that. The free download is available from the Android Market and iTunes App Store; http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/the-national-dog-show/id478027869?mt=8

To learn a little about how to watch a dog show, visit  http://video.nbcsports.msnbc.com/nbc-sports/21887293/

SOURCE: The National Dog Show

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African American Ghost Dogs

When my son was young, I was on a mission to find children’s books that would help him learn about other countries, their cultures and customs. This was in the early 1990s, and that genre was still pretty sparse. Once the publishing industry acknowledged the vacuum, they were on it:  Pretty quickly, more and more culturally sensitive and culturally accurate books for youngsters and young adults began to appear in bookstores and catalogs; at least that’s how I remember it.

Ghost dog Lucy comforts young Daniel in this sweet story written by Jo Ellen Bogart. "Daniel's Dog" was published by Scholastic, Inc. in 1990. Image from: http://www.scholastic.com/

I felt as though I’d found a buried treasure the day I stumbled on, “Daniel’s Dog,” at a book fair at my son’s school. Published by Scholastic, Inc. in 1990, it’s an illustrated children’s book by Jo Ellen Bogart about an African American boy and his dog, Lucy. I’m glad “Daniel’s Dog” found its way home with us, because it became a favorite with my son the first time we read it. For weeks, story time included flipping through the pages again and again to see if we could spot where the translucent spaniel-like Lucy was hiding in the enchanting illustrations.

Lucy was the kind of dog you could see right through; because she was a ghost dog. My son and I learned that ghost dogs frequent black American folklore. Children’s books have been some of my best teachers.

I wish I’d had a ghost dog instead of my imaginary friend, Betty. I think I was about five when Betty showed up. It hadn’t been a very good day, so I called on Betty for some help. I told my mom and dad it was my friend Betty who’d thrown chewing gum into the fireplace. I also told them it was Betty who’d spilled the milk and not cleaned it up. An imaginary dog would have made the scolding easier – and maybe lapped up the milk.

Lucy was more than a playmate for Daniel. She was his solution to feeling left out and lonely when his baby sister arrived and captured nearly all of his mom’s attention. Lucy was a ghost, but she wasn’t a secret. Daniel describes the faithful Lucy in detail to his mom and his best friend. Soon enough, Lucy becomes a prop for Daniel to tell his mom how ignored he’s been feeling.

“ ‘Who is Lucy?’ his mother asked?

‘Lucy is my dog,’ Daniel explained. ‘My  ghost dog. She always has time for me, no matter what.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Daniel’s mother said. ‘Is she here now?’

‘Right here next to my feet. She’s nice and warm, and she likes it when I read stories to her.’ “

Daniel tells his pal, Norman, that Lucy was sent from Heaven by his late grandfather for comfort and company. When Grandfather was a boy, Daniel explains, Lucy had been his ghost dog.

Ghost dogs happen along in adult literature, too. Critically acclaimed novelist Randall Kenan, an African American, remembered the ghost dogs of his childhood in an article in “US Policy” magazine in 2009.  He met them in stories told in the North Carolina town where he grew up.

Like Superman, the ghost dogs Kenan knew always showed up just in time to rescue someone from death or destruction. His great-great aunt told of a white dog that had led her to safety when she’d become lost in the woods. Kenan’s great-great grandmother recounted the tale of a woman who was about to be attacked by wild dogs when a ghost dog leapt to her rescue and guided her home. Eventually, ghost dogs became Kenan’s muse and led him to write his first novel, “A Visitation of Spirits,” published in 1989.

The South and Its Ghost Dogs

Many a ghost dog tale is recounted by Randy Russell and Janet Barrett in their book, "Ghost Dogs of the South," published by John F. Blair in 2001. Image from http://www.blairpub.com.

Ghost dogs, it seems, followed folks all over the American South. Award-winning folklorists Randy Russell and Janet Barrett recount many ghost dog tales in their book, “Ghost Dogs of the South,” published by John F. Blair in 2001. Complete with photos of dogs and/or their owners, this book captures the stories of several dogs that passed-over yet remained in their owner’s earthly life in invisible yet significant ways. Dog lovers won’t be surprised by claims of bonds this strong between persons and pups.

Russell and Barrett differentiate between dog ghosts — dogs that have become ghosts; and ghost dogs –humans who return as ghosts in the shape of dogs. Then, they say, there are dogs that see ghosts as well as dogs that are afraid of ghosts.

Each type shows up in “Ghost Dogs of the South.” The 20 tales recounted by Russell and Barnett introduce: a stray dog that warns coal miners of impending disaster; a Tennessee dog that returns home every year to go trick-or-treating; and a butterfly dog that eases a young girl’s pain.

Britain’s Phantom Dogs

Local superstition and ethereal dogs seem leashed together in British lore. They are most commonly described as being calf-size and black with saucer eyes. British tradition and tale have it that black phantom dog sightings occur most often along old tracks and roads: And a street called Black Dog Lane is surely haunted by one.

Another renowned scholar and Britain-Ireland folklorist, Katharine Briggs (1898-1980), also described two kinds of phantom dogs: those that are the ghosts of human beings returned as dogs and the ghosts of dogs in their own right. They are, generally, benevolent. In Scotland, phantom black dogs are said to guard buried treasure; while other tales applaud phantom black dogs for scaring away would-be robbers.

Author Daniel Parkinson lists these among the names for ghost dogs in Britain:
Bogey Beast, Bargheust, Black Shuck, Capelthwaite, Cu Sith, Gallytrot, Gurt Dog, Hairy Jack, Mauthe Dog, Old Shock, Padfoot, Pooka, and Skriker.

The infamous phantom dog in Andrew Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes classic crime story, "Hound of the Baskervilles," is likely the best-known ghost dog. Or is it a dog ghost? Image from http://www.flickr.com.

We must not forget the infamous phantom hound in ‘Hound of the Baskervilles’ by Arthur Conan Doyle. This Sherlock Holmes crime mystery begins with lecherous Hugo Baskerville imprisoning a young lass at his country estate. The night she manages to escape, Hugo chases her across the moors. Before he reaches the young woman, Hugo is set upon and killed by a “marauding hound of hell.”

This brings a curse on the Baskerville family; a curse that includes being plagued by a mysterious and supernatural black hound. Consider reading, or re-reading, this classic as you burrow in for winter.

If you know any ghost dogs or stories about them, I’d love to hear from you.

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“In the October issue of ‘America’s Horse,’ read along as Janet Herring-Sherman writes about her journey – 50 years in the making – toward owning an American Quarter Horse.”

A picture worth a thousand words; and in this case worth a fifty-year wait. The photo captures the essence of a story I have published in the October issue of "America's Horse" magazine. My article, "Horse of a Lifetime," is a short chronicle of wanting and waiting for a particular breed of horse for most of my life. I have that dream now and love her so. "America's Horse" is a publication for members of the American Quarter Horse Association (AQHA): I will post the article on my blog down the road when the contractual time restrictions have passed. Meanwhile, if you know someone who is a member of AQHA, snag their copy of the October issue and read a lot about my horse, Callie, and a little about how she 's changed my life. Photo by Adam Sherman.

THIS WEEK’S ANIMAL LESSON (in 12-step terms):

Don’t quit before the miracle happens. Be patient, God’s not done yet.

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This picture seems to be all that remains of the young black-tailed buck that traveled our woods -- and helped himself to my rose buds -- for two years. I forgave his harvesting my roses when he turned and looked right into my eyes as this photo was snapped. It was taken earlier this year when his new antlers were still fresh in velvet. I imagined that rack being a yard across in years ahead. My guess is he seldom left our place. It is rather a perfect bachelor pad as bucks go: meadows for browsing; ponds and creeks for drinking; woods for hiding; and does for courting. It was his turf until poachers ended his young life the first day of the Fall 2011 hunting season. Photo by James Sherman.

I try not to use the word “hate.” I did my best to raise my son in the art of not using this four-letter word or others  like it. But I’m using that word now: I “hate” deer and elk hunting seasons. More specifically, I hate the people who cheat at it: poachers.

Where’s the sport in raising your rifle as you sit in your truck on a public road at sundown and shoot a deer on private property where faded, but readable, “No Hunting or Trespassing” signs are posted?

Yes, we live in a hillside clearing surrounded by private forests and BLM land; so we expect hunters’ rifle shots to boom through our silence. The first weekend of the fall deer season they seem especially loud. I remind myself it’s a seasonal sport and tell my husband how glad I am it’s not his thing anymore.

I admit hypocrisy here: I don’t often voice my view in our rural social circles. Intellectually, I get the pros of ethical hunting as necessary for wildlife and wildland management. It’s my heart that isn’t convinced.

I’m the mom who read “Bambi” to her son and every time skipped the part about Bambi’s mother dying. My son’s 20 now. But whenever he starts a sentence, “Remember when you…,” I know he’s about to remind me how my revisionist bedtime reading got him blindsided on the playground when friends happened on the “Bambi” storyline. Adam insisted it didn’t go the way his pals said.

That afternoon, Bambi was with us in the car on the ride home from school. As soon as Adam had clicked his seat-belt around his six-year-old waist, it was game-on. “Mom, there’s only one ‘Bambi’ story right? So how come other kids say his mother got killed? And what exactly are hunters? ”

Adam’s words were like a shot to my mom heart. I’d tried to protect him from what I considered a harsh reality. And I’d put him at a disadvantage. It wasn’t the first time I apologized to my son for something I’d said or done. It was the first, and last, time I lied to Adam by omitting pieces of the truth.

I guess you could say deer hunting is a loaded issue for me. And can I just say that I got my Bambi comeuppance this summer. My chocolate Lab, Kobe, loves to find stinky things to carry home from walks in the meadow. This time, he was lagging way behind and pulling something heavy up the hill. He was dragging a skeleton: a head, spine, and partial rib cage. It could only have been a long-dead deer or young elk, taken by coyotes, injury or illness. “OMG” was about all I could say to my quite proud-of-himself dog.

Kobe knew better than to even attempt to bring his find into the house. Reluctantly, he dropped it on our front porch. Where it stayed until Adam got home and moved it out of sight for his mother.  Yes, the whole “Bambi”-on-the-playground incident came up yet again.

As it did recently when we got disturbing news from our other-side-of-the-woods neighbor: He reported seeing hunters taking aim from the road and dropping a forked horn in our woods at dusk. I literally felt as though I’d been smacked by a rifle shot’s recoil.

The young buck was apparently standing alongside the pump house on our private property when they killed it. Did I mention they were shooting toward our house?  The poachers, trespassing, dragged the buck to the county road and heaved it into the bed of their pickup. They sped off before the neighbor could make out the mud-spattered license plate number. I’m no game warden, but I count at least three rules* of the hunting game broken. Not to mention the spirit of the laws. Wonder what great heroic story the cheap-shot hunters told their peers about their illegally taken prize?

Chances are the buck poached was the one you see in the photo. He posed in our front yard earlier this year, perhaps to show off his brand new antlers. Needless to say, he felt pretty safe hereabouts. He probably didn’t stray from our place his entire life. Born here, lived here, died here. RIP.

 *      General Hunting Rules, excerpted from 2011 Oregon Big Game Regulations

Shooting Hours:                                                                                                                                                                                             ■■Game mammals may only be hunted from 1/2 hour before sunrise to 1/2 hour after sunset.

No Person Shall:                                                                                                                                                                                             ■■ Shoot from or across a public road, road right-of-way or railroad right-of-way….

■■ Hunt any wildlife from a motor-propelled vehicle. Exceptions: 1) A qualified disabled hunter may obtain an “Oregon Disabilities Hunting and Fishing Permit” to hunt from a motor-propelled vehicle except while the vehicle is in motion or on any public road or highway.

To Report Wildlife Violators in Oreogn,  Call 1-800-452-7888 or Email tip@state.or.us


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scenicreflections.com

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Valentine’s Day and love is on our minds. This seems the ideal time  to launch a blog, devoted to everything about the animals we love.

For starters, there is the unconditional love they are capable of demonstrating for us. We have a thing or two to learn from the animals about that. I’m convinced animals remain devoted to us, because they can forgive us for our human foibles.

But how readily do we forgive one another for a cross word, a broken promise? I’m betting most of us, when hurt or disappointed, seldom stop to ask ourselves, “How important is it in the big picture anyway?”  I know, for the most part, my life got easier when I started applying a  philosophy heard from someone in a 12-step recovery program, “Would you rather be right, or be  happy?”

The first reaction to that question was to say being right was more important. But the next time I had an argument with a loved one, I stopped and asked myself, “Am I going to insist my way’s the right way and inevitably set a bad mood for the day? Or would I rather just let the disagreement go and enjoy my day?” I dropped it, had a lovely day and even managed to resolve the issue peacefully later.

KOBE LOOKING AT LIFE                         Photo by Adam Sherman

My black and chocolate Labrador retrievers are like that when they engage in a tug-of-war for an old sock. They square off for awhile, holding their ground, necks stretched taunt in an “I’m NOT letting go” stance. In awhile, one will tire of the drill and decide a nap would be just as satisfying as leveraging the old sock away. Neither really wins or loses.

They teach me a lot, those dogs, if I sit still log enough to really watch them. Realizing what I can learn from animals has been one of the most important life lessons for me.

This blog is about loving and learning from the animals around us. We hope you’ll join us in our journey. To learn more about the blog, it’s people and pets, please check the “About us” option in the menu to the right. We hope you’ll scroll to the bottom of that menu, and subscribe to AnimalsOurEVERYTHING!

ANIMALS: They make us grin aloud. They make us sigh. They make us proud. They make us cry.

HERE’S ANOTHER GREAT REASON TO INTRODUCE THE BLOG, AnimalsOurEVERYTHING! today.

The 135th Westminister Dog Show starts today and runs through tomorrow.

USA Network and CNBC will be home to The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show presented by Pedigree®, for the 28th consecutive year in 2011. USA Network and CNBC air exclusive live coverage from Madison Square Garden on Monday, February 14, and USA Network airs exclusive live coverage on Tuesday, February 15.

Schedule

NIGHT 1:
Monday, February 14
Hound, Toy, Non-Sporting and Herding Groups
8-9 p.m. (ET) live on USA Network
9-11 p.m. (ET) live on CNBC

NIGHT 2:
Tuesday, February 15
Sporting, Working and Terrier Groups, Best In Show
8-11 p.m. (ET) live on USA Network

Breed judging highlight videos are available throughout the day on Monday and Tuesday on the Westminster Web site. These highlights will be available after the show, as well.

To our West Coast viewers: Please note that the West Coast telecast is delayed for your time zone. Since results are posted to our Web site as they occur live, if you want to enjoy the drama of the moment, please avoid the Westminster Web site after 5 p.m. Pacific Time on each evening.

http://www.westminsterkennelclub.org/

Watch it on Facebook, the web or TV.

http://www.facebook.com/WKCDogShow

http://www.westminsterkennelclub.org/videos/fullep/index.html?id=1001381

(Post created while listening to “What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong)

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Do You Look Like Your Dog?

In this outrageous game, players match dogs to owners and owners to dogs, then vote on who has made the best match! In the end, everyone’s bark is worse than their bite and there is a howling good time for all!
$15,99
See us on YouTube by copying and pasting the link below:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlsTtv565d0
Age 7 +
Players 3 – 4
Skills No Reading Required
SKU# BP53101
UPC 761707531012
Price $15.99

Awards:
Product Picture : Do You Look Like Your Dog?

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