Steepleton is not known for being Number One in Canada at anything except social backwardness. A little known exception to this rule is that my town hosts the biggest dog show in Canada each October. Sonja and I are frequent visitors to the event.
It costs more to buy a beer (I was going to say a shitty beer but a shitty beer is better than no beer at all) at the Great Rink in Dope City than it cost to get in the door of the dog show. Parking is three bucks out here in the Backwardlands.
Sonja and I are a couple crazy dog loving motherfuckers. We watched a pile of different breeds being judged and correctly predicted the three best dogs of the breed we are most familiar with. They were three splendid dogs, possibly better bred dogs than the three we have owned: Strangler, Ranger and my shit eating Hammer.
After the shows we picked up some dog stuff as we browsed through the dog mall and visited the stables full of dogs that occcupied half of the exhibition. Overheard this from a handler talking to another handler. "Just because I have won two of the three fucking breeds I have shown now everybody thinks I'm fucking Satan."
There were hundreds of puddles of dog piss.
We both have our favourite small dog, the kind of dog that is popular these days, but not with us. I like Boston Terriers. They are cool little fuckers. I have seen bigger rats in the sawmill. Sonja likes Cairn Terriers. Their fur is like long eye brows. You can pluck it out. And they have speed.
After the dog show we raced to the racetrack. I really liked a horse named Ten Carrot Girl in the first. Hope all you red heads bet her as heavily as I did because she was 9-1.
Later on the card I bet a horse named Military Deputy that shipped up from Washington to compete in a 14 furlong race. He won it with ease at odds of 18-1. When things are going right for you at the racetrack you can do no wrong.
November 2 is Dope City Downs' last day of live racing this year. Think I may have a few beer down by the mud splattered finish line.