EDITOR'S NOTE: Some may think that an article about a dog parade doesn't belong on the Arts page, and perhaps it doesn't, but here's our rationale for putting it here. The annual Walking the dog WALK is a fundraiser for Walking the dog Theater.That's performing art. Further, observers of this event have described it as "a Diane Arbus photo in motion" and "very Fellini." That's visual art.
And that's enough reason for us. —CO
05-19-09 - 9:30 a.m. - The second annual Walking the dog WALK stepped off on a cool Saturday under cloudy skies, to the relief of anyone who remembered melting during last year’s July parade. In fact, those who survived the heat and humidity of that first parade were probably not much in evidence, as attendance looked to be down by about half. In the case of Lulu, my dog, and me, I attended and she did not, having discovered last year that a wonderful family event consisting mostly of dogs and children was not her thing.
This gave me the opportunity to enjoy the afternoon without worrying if Lulu was having a good time. So . . .
The best part of the afternoon is the dogs themselves. Lots of big dogs and tiny dogs this year, not a lot in between: a minimum number of spaniels or Basenjis, dogs sized for people who cannot decide on size; instead, lots of cheerful pit bulls, happy to have been rescued. Dogs with names like Sebastian, Foxie, Ike, Yo-yo, Lucy, Zoe, and Sparky.
We had Claude, a French mastiff who’s a therapy dog; Cheyenne, a Dalmatian in sunglasses and a gimme hat; two Labradoodles, Coco and Harley; Lilly, a lovely brindle pit bull. But my favorite of the day was Georgie, a six-month old bulldog who is just the cutest thing. . . .
The next-best part of the afternoon is the parade itself, which takes the small-town parade and wags its tail, joyfully. We line up on Seventh Street. We’ve got Georgie the bulldog in the back seat of a metallic sky-blue vintage Cadillac convertible. We’ve had sprinkles of rain, but, you bet, the top is down. We turn onto Warren Street and a couple of blocks later, we’re met by Mayor Rick Scalera, holding a pair of cardboard scissors the size of a four-year-old child. He cuts the wide red ribbon, welcoming the parade, and we continue all the way down Warren Street and wind up at Basilica Industria, where there are chairs and food for sale and free water for the dogs.
Next, each dog signed up for the Bestminster Dog Show earns a ribbon in reward for a special feature of his or her doggy self, as chosen by a panel of young judges from the Hudson Department of Youth and the Hawthorne Valley School. The judging culminates with the choice of the Spokesdawg for next year’s parade. King, an Alaskan Malamute already well known around Hudson, got the nod, with the Chihuahua Maximillian, “the smallest dog with the longest name,” as runner-up.
The duo Pontis Simo brought a country fair ambience to the parade with delightful fiddle and accordion music. At the Basilica, musical interludes were provided by Abbie Lappan, who sang “Walkin’ the Dog,” of course, and by Furry Murray, accompanied by his miniature wire-haired dachshund and the Bow-Wow Band. As if that weren’t enough—and it was—we had Morris Dancers, too!
The parade and the Bestminster Dog Show and Fair at the Basilica are presented by Walking the dog Theater for the enjoyment of the community and as a benefit to the theater. Dozens of volunteers work for months to produce the event. Last year, only one of the core group of volunteers actually had a dog, and it showed, in the length and complexity of the program. This year was much better, but the producers still don’t seem to quite understand that having a dog at the end of a lead is like having a three-year-old child by the hand: there’s a limit to that creature’s patience and endurance, as witnessed by the falloff in attendance by 4 p.m. The parade is marvelous, witty, unique among local events. The parade may be enough.
