Daisy — a well decorated champion miniature poodle — is said to simply ‘sparkle’ while soaking up the limelight. She’s ready to face the stiff competition next month in New York City. Read more.
Coco Chanel had her pearls. Michael Jackson, his white glove. Daisy, a 14-pound miniature poodle, has her pink satin pillow.
The tiny Lower Mainland-bred superstar will take the ring on Feb. 10. On show day, she will lounge on her pink satin pillow during Westminster’s “benching” hours, lapping up the admiration of spectators.
Bench time, when show dogs are available for public viewing, is a rare opportunity to get up close to a superstar.
For dogs on show, it’s a risky proposition. Some scrap with their neighbours, others are just not social enough to be ambassadors for their breed.
For Daisy, it’s a moment to bask in her own perfection.
“Daisy absolutely loves it,” said her owner, Allison Chicorli of Cloverdale. “She gets on her table and shows off.”
Once she gets in the ring, said Chicorli, “She sparkles.”
One person who is not surprised was Chicorli’s mother, Pam Dickinson, of Encinitas, Calif.
“The judge said, ‘I could not look away from her, she had such attitude and presence,’” said Dickinson.
Although Daisy was acquired as a puppy to be a family pet for the Chicorlis, Dickinson, who has shown poodles since she was a teenager, saw something special in Daisy and began to work with her.
Daisy was just different. She had the “it” factor.
“She is unusual in her greatness,” said Dickinson.
In her short career, Daisy has captured two poodle specialties, and one national specialty, three best in shows, American and Canadian Grand Championships, and one National Poodle Specialty best in variety.
Dogs don’t compete against each other, but against the breed standard.
Personality counts, too.
“They have to have a gay and outgoing personality. Their tail needs to be up, their head needs to be up. They need to be happy and poodley,” said Dickinson.
It isn’t just how well she wears her English Saddle Cut, with its intricate pom-poms and bracelets.
She loves the limelight. In the ring, she almost shows herself, prancing with confidence, casting a nod here and there at the judges, and then back at her handler, Ethan Coye.
On the bench, where dogs are “stacked” by their handlers — gently put in position by hand to show off their physical structure and traits — Daisy does it herself. She goes full Zoolander, plunks her legs in position and holds the pose.
When she doesn’t get to show, she’s just not herself.
“If her handler takes her to a show and she’s not entered, she sulks,” says Dickinson. “She will whine, or bark at other dogs that are going out.”
Daisy has been in California for months, preparing for the big show with Coye.
While Chicorli and her children miss Daisy, they are not at all sure whether Daisy misses them.
She has, by all accounts, a major crush on her handler, Coye. “She absolutely adores him,” says Chicorli.
Both Chicorli and Dickinson plan to be at Westminster to cheer Daisy on. They don’t get to go to every show — it’s an expensive hobby. A show weekend can run from $5,000 to $10,000, not including travel expenses for family members.
There is no prize money.
“We do it for the glory,” said Dickinson.
There is also a higher calling: To allow Daisy to be what she was born to be — a champion, a dog that shows what a dog can be.
“Daisy is a great example of the breed, and people should have the benefit of seeing her,” said Dickinson.
Daisy’s career will probably not be a long one.
The family plans to retire her while she is still young enough to enjoy her favourite pastime — ripping around the house in Cloverdale, chasing the family cat.
“We miss her,” said Chicorli.
Eventually, there will be at least one litter of pups.
Whether or not another pink-satin-pillow-worthy champion will be born is unknown, said Dickinson.
“She’s a once-in-a-lifetime dog.”