Putting on the dog for judges and fans

A Wire Fox Terrier named GCH CH Steele Your Heart took home the top dog title at the 2011 National Dog Show, which aired on Thursday.

If Elton and Bruschi - pronounced "brewski" - were people, Elton would be the friendly oaf of a guy who likes to drink beer in the backyard and who could maybe do stand-up on Comedy Central, and Bruschi would read GQ (well maybe he wouldn't read) and dream of making People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive list.

As it is, they are dogs - Elton, official name Rocket Man, is a bullmastiff; Bruschi, official name Greengate the Boss at Beaubriar, is an Irish setter - that found themselves on display with close to 2,000 other dogs Saturday at the National Dog Show at the Greater Philadelphia Expo Center at Oaks.

Elton, an adolescent with a massive, wrinkled face that was endearingly ugly among the overly fluffed and froufrou canines that graced many of the benches at the expo center, is at the beginning of his career. He's full of great promise, his owner says, but not yet as broad and deeply muscled as a dog at the height of his powers. Bruschi is that kind of dog, an experienced competitor who sat with regal confidence, his silky hair gleaming like newly polished copper as he awaited his turn to compete.

The expo center was a place where every pup had a story, where the diversity of human imagination and ingenuity was displayed in the strong, tiny, tall, squat, fragile, beautiful, and sometimes just weird flesh and fur of a species that people have loved and manipulated for centuries. There were dogs you probably know, like huskies, golden retrievers, and Samoyeds, along with the more exotic thin-face Bedlington terrier and the giant komondors, whose dreadlocked fur makes them look like big dust mops. You could almost step on a French bulldog one minute and be stepped on by a coarse-haired Chesapeake Bay retriever the next.

Over two days of shows, as many as 15,000 people will roam the rows of dogs that fill the cavernous, warehouselike center. It's a chance to see 184 breeds up close as they return to designated benches when they're not in the limelight and to see how much hair spray and blow-drying it takes to primp for the show. There's not much money in it, but it's a chance for breeders to show off dogs whose progeny cost $2,000 and up.

This was the 10th annual National Dog Show presented by Purina and hosted by the Kennel Club of Philadelphia. Though the morning's judging took place in gritty rings on the expo floor, the afternoon's event, which involved picking the best dogs in seven groups of breeds, culminating in the selection of the best-of-show dog, took place in a glitzy blue-carpeted ring before bleachers packed with fans. That part of the competition was taped to be telecast by NBC on Thursday to nearly 20 million viewers immediately after the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Organizers are withholding the identity of the winning dogs until the telecast.

On Sunday, the show continues with competition and judging by the Kennel Club of Philadelphia.

Though there are thousands of dog shows each year, Philadelphia's is one of the largest and oldest. "We're one of the most prestigious shows in the country, so a win in Philadelphia is considered a very big event in dogdom," said Wayne Ferguson, president of the Kennel Club of Philadelphia.

Elton, who is 18 months old and weighs 140 pounds, came to the show with his owner, Brian Witmier of Pottsville, and Cindy Dengler, a business analyst who lives outside Reading and likes to help out.

Witmier, who is built a little like a mastiff himself, likes how laid-back the breed is, although he said it requires a confident handler. Elton has the kind of big, triangular head that's valued in the breed. He's also fun to pal around with. They share a bagel at Dunkin' Donuts every morning.

As Witmier waited in line to take Elton into the ring with 10 other male mastiffs, Dengler watched nervously. "I'm the one who plays to win," she said. Witmier discreetly wiped away his dog's slobber with a handkerchief before the judging began.

Dengler wasn't hoping to win best of show. Elton is too young for that. But she likes that he moves with an effortless fluidity noticeable in such a big brute of a dog.

At the end, the judge pulled aside four dogs, the best four. Elton wasn't one of them. "That's OK," Dengler said. "It's his first time as a best of breed. . . . Next year'll be his year. Yep."

"He showed well," Witmier said afterward. Elton drooled calmly.

A few rows away, Bruschi sat serenely, his silky ears wrapped in yellow plastic to keep them out of his mouth. His auburn hair hung in perfect curtains from his midsection and his tail. He'd had a bath in the motor home that morning. His owner, Rick Fiacco of Bayville, N.J., who took to Irish setters after seeing the movie Big Red as a boy, said he doesn't show Bruschi much, but the dog has won two best of shows and 13 specialty shows. "His movement is perfect," Fiacco said. "He can run all day."

For the record, Fiacco is short and balding and looks nothing like an Irish setter, although that could not be said of all the Irish setter owners.

Just before Bruschi headed into the ring, the wraps came off his ears and Michelle DeChambeau, his handler and co-owner, sprayed water on the pads of his feet so he wouldn't slide on the rubber.

"All right, let's do this," she said. And they did. They ran. Bruschi stood like a statue. They ran again and stood again. Fiacco, a telecommunications engineer, and his wife, Nancy, clapped.

Asked what he gets out of this, Fiacco said: "Ulcers."

The dogs ran in pairs. The judge looked at them again. He picked Bruschi for best of breed. "Now you can hug me," Fiacco said as he hugged his wife and then DeChambeau.

Then DeChambeau revealed the backstory. "This was good for them because they have an old dog in the motor home. He's dying of cancer."

That explained why Nancy Fiacco was crying. She was thinking of Killian, the 12-year-old setter with bone cancer who might not last another week. "He had a horrible morning this morning," she said. "My husband was crying and I was crying."

She thought Bruschi - she calls him Boo - understood. "When Boo went in the ring, I gave him a kiss and said, 'Do this for Killian.' "