With Crufts completed and the winning dog crowned, I have a large number of complaints, chief among them the interminable wait until the next Crufts. I honestly don’t get it – it’s like having one football match a year. All that lost skill, all those fans, the empty stadiums, the vast reservoir of interest gathered and then left to stagnate. Where is an average person supposed to watch heelwork to music for the rest of the year? Do they expect us to teach our own dogs to do it?
I have nothing against whippets, but upon the coronation of Miuccia – gracious congratulations to Italy for its first best in show in 134 years of Crufts – I need to point out that these are not full‑fat dogs. I don’t mean they are too lean – I would never body shame an animal. I mean they are too self-possessed, too standoffish, too independent. They are cat-dogs. If you are going to crown one of those in a dog show, you need to split the top award into categories: best dog in show, best cat-dog in show … hell, throw in a best cat if you are bent on ruining everything.
Just as I would never make a personal remark about a dog or a cat-dog, so I would never criticise a six-year-old, least of all Freddie Osborne, the youngest person ever to win a prize at Crufts. Except to say: if you are from Staffordshire, lad, you don’t arrive with a fox terrier. You arrive with a staffy.
I regretfully point to evidence of bias – not among the judges, but from Clare Balding, the long-term presenter of the competition. She manifestly loves spaniels, to the extent that she let one on her presenter’s sofa and then rolled around with it. The only way to rectify this is for Balding to let all the dogs on her sofa next year and roll around with them.
Other than that, excellent work, everyone.
• Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist
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