Clawing my way to the top.

Gentle Readers,

I feel we have reached a point in our relationship wherein I am comfortable with sharing something of a rather personal nature. I, Mordred T. Dog, in my puppy days of yore, longed to be a show dog. Yes, there were head pats and adulation to be considered, as well as the companionship of some rather admirable specimens of dog-dom, but more than any of these, I relished the notion of a very public forum in which I could be the Goodest Boy Possible for my Daddy.

Sadly, before I even got a chance to set paw into the show ring, my Pup Star aspirations were lopped short by the untimely meeting of a front toe and a heavy steel door. Thus, lo, these many years, I have been one claw short of my dreams…until now.

Thanks to our forward-thinking, and utterly delectable-smelling friends at Dog Show USA and Purina, even those of us who are a claw off, a pound or two over, or a hair stray of a rigorous breed standard can be publicly acknowledged as the Very Good Dogs we are – and our beloved Daddies and Mommies do not even have to put us in the car, make us take baths, or have long, hard-to-remember names like Champion His Royal King Mighty Emperor FuzzBottom Esq., when we are perfectly contented answering to, say, "Mr. Droolyhead" at home.

And, in an equally refreshing stray from the norm, pups of mixed and/or dubious parentage are most welcome entrants as well. While I, Mordred T. Dog am pleased to be a pureblooded ambassador of the splendid Irish Wolfhound tradition, and the lovely Morgane is an impeccable instance of Whippetry, my dear friend Jo-Jo Poo-Poo Pants of Hoboken in the New Jersey (pictured above) would be a most worthy contender for the mantle of "Cutest Dog," which is open to canine contestants of all shapes, sizes, and toe-counts. My fellow four-leggers – are you ready for your close-ups?

M.T.D.