the spirit of the dog olympics

Yesterday we braved the freakishly cold weather to witness Dogtoberfest--a sort of amateur dog olympics sponsored by the local animal shelter. J got some good audio of the events, but since he hasn't posted any of it yet, I'll try to recreate the exciting competitive atmosphere for you here:

Timer: You have sixty seconds to throw the frisbee as many times as you can, but your dog must bring the frisbee back before your next throw. Ready?

Dog owner: Yup.

Timer: Okay. Go!

Dog owner: Go, Artie! Get the frisbee, Artie! Good catch, Artie! Bring it here!... Bring it here, Artie! HERE, ARTIE! OVER HERE, ARTIE! ARTIEARTIEARTIEARTIEARTIE!!!

The yelling is all in vain. At this point, Artie is obsessed with shaking the frisbee to death, and nothing will distract him. The timer keeps a straight face, even when the dog owner runs into the enclosure to chase down his uncooperative pet and wrestle the limp frisbee out of Artie's mouth. The owner finally manages to wrest the toy away and complete another throw, but the result is the same: "Bring it here, Artie! HERE! ARTIEARTIEARTIEARTIIIIIIIIIE!!!"

The other dog events are just as amusing. Everywhere dogs are running and jumping and chasing after thrown objects and sniffing each other happily. Owners smile at each other and cheer for their pets and laugh over their failed coaching attempts. I suppose everyone wants their dog to be a great athlete, but like most amateur athletes, these participants are never going to make a successful career of it. It was still fun as hell, though, because unlike the obsessed parents at a pee wee football or varsity baseball games, no one at Dogtoberfest really expected much out of their participant. They're were just happy if Fido didn't shit in the back seat on the way to the park, or bite another child like last year. And really, that's what Dogtoberfest is all about.