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I don’t understand the world’s fascination with royalty — be it The Queen of England, Princess Di, Kate, The Dairy Queen or Cinderella (after the shoe thing). Who cares? They still all put their pantyhose and Spanx on the same way we do.

But there is, every year, one particular coronation that we in this House of Critters pay attention to…and pay homage. It is the winner of the Westminster Dog Show. And this year, wouldn’t you know it, the winner was Miss.P., a delightful, photogenic beagle. It has done wonders for the mood around here — a mood which, with the bitter cold, has this family alternating between bouts of cabin fever and thoughts of committing hari kari on one another. When The Pig (our beagle) heard the news, she lifted her head up off the pillows on the good white sofa, sniffed the change in the air, jumped down and strutted her stuff around the kitchen table, waiting for her loyal subjects (us) to throw her some scraps of filet mignon. You see, Miss P is, in effect, the rising tide that lifts all boats — especially The Pig’s. Miss P is a star and hence, by extension, The Pig is THE STAR.

As Gill opined, “Oh, Ma, you’ll never get The Pig back to normal now! She already thinks she deserves the royal treatment — and, may I say in mild rebuke, gets it!”

Miss P of Westminster fame was treated to a meal at Sardi’s, the snooty New York restaurant and a trip to the Statue  of Liberty. She was on television and fussed over before she got on a plane (presumably a first class seat, not cargo) to return to her B.C. home and become a mother. Wow! What a demotion!! She wins the big prize, then gets to be knocked up so she can produce another champion. I empathize…I mean, don’t all mothers feel that? Basically, in the end, it all comes down to what good comes from our uterus..

And Gill was correct in her assumption about The Pig. It was amazing the effect all this had on our beagle. She insisted on being dressed in her lovely orange and pink plaid coat to be trotted around the neighborhood for all to admire. (Actually it was the first day all week that the temperature was anywhere close to freezing at minus 10 and  she needed exercise and a vigorous session of ‘Hunt The Bunny’). She tore down the street, ears flapping in the wind chill, little legs going as fast as they could, leg flaps on her coat flying free (she wouldn’t let me strap them on, not wanting to have her spirits crimped, I guess). She may as well have been yelling, “I’m a beagle. We’re awesome! Did you hear, we WON?”

At least The Pig’s happiness was genuine, innocent even. I curled up with her later on with a glass of wine (mine, not hers) to watch bad television. And ‘Say Yes toThe Dress’ is about as bad as it comes — in my humble opinion. And yet, I am oddly addicted to it. It’s like watching a train crash.  Despite being a feminist, I find the phenomenon of brides wanting to be ‘princesses for one day’ oddly fascinating. I find it especially weird since none of the brides have the money to make that fantasy come true. And I’m pretty sure none of the grooms (as the necessary appendage for the spectacle) would willingly fork over the funds for such insanity. They’d probably rather buy a boat — or a house in which to live. The Pig shared my disdain for the brides. I could tell she cringed every time one of the women asked for ‘more bling’, a tiara, or a dress that looks like Princess Grace’s. And when they squeezed themselves into a gown that left their boobs hanging  over the bodice like a cliff, she put her paws over her face. The Pig is at least dignified and is discreet when it comes to her tiny titties.

I longed to tell Gill how The Pig displayed her own feminist proclivities in that way, but I figured Gill had had enough of beagles. L’il Sis deluged FB with pictures of beagles (especially The Pig) and put up a link to the Beagle Rescue site so everyone she knows can rush out and rescue a beagle in need.

Besides, it’s time for me to go and make The Pig’s two bowls of chicken soup for lunch. I hope she appreciates the fact that she was treated like the Top Dog long before Westminster made it official!