Here’s a thing you should know about wiener dog racing: The path from start to finish is not always a straight line.
Much like life in general, a “typical” race can take unexpected detours. People attending Port St. Lucie’s Oktoberfest celebration got a good sense of that Saturday, as 35 stubby-legged canine competitors set out to prove speediness sometimes comes in small packages.
Well, some of the dogs did. Let’s just say there were others who seemed less concerned about winning than getting to know their fellow competitors.
Or visiting with the many spectators who lined the course despite intermittent rain sprinkles and overcast skies. Or simply stopping to smell the artificial grass turf on the track outside the MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Event Center.
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“Welcome to the crazy world of wiener dog racing,” said Garry Nutt, a recreation specialist for the city, who organized the event. “We don’t know what to expect and neither do they.”
This was the second year Port St. Lucie held the races, featuring the breed of dogs properly known as dachshunds.
It’s important to note the competition was limited to dachshunds because Nutt said there was controversy last year when a large, un-dachshund-like dog ended up winning.
“I’m not a veterinarian,” Nutt explained. “We don’t do DNA testing.”
Thankfully, there were no issues of that sort this year. All of the entrants appeared to be of the ankle-biting variety dachshund aficionados have come to know and love.
Which isn’t to say they all looked the same. The racers came in many colors. Some were young. Some were old. Some were relatively svelte. Others were not.
“Newton (aka Newt) is entering this race to kick off his new diet,” read the entry on one contestant’s application form.
Other entries were equally colorful.
“No shoes or stuffed animals are safe around her,” read Heidi’s bio.
The tag line for Dexter, who shares the name of the serial killer from an HBO TV series, was downright ominous: “Dexter the Dapple Doxie is ready to slice and dice the competition.”
In the initial heat, Dexter lived up to that billing, bolting across the finish line, through the paddock gate and into the crowd, much like Forrest Gump headed straight up the tunnel into the locker room after scoring his first touchdown in the movie of the same name.
I asked Lacy Suarez, Dexter’s “coach,” what it took to get Dexter to run so fast.
“I don’t know,” Suarez admitted. “She wasn’t running to me.”
In the racing format, each wiener dog needed two coaches — one to release the dog at the starting line and another stationed at the finish. The coaches stationed at the finish line were allowed to use treats or toys as motivation to propel the racers forward.
(Thankfully for all involved, the rules didn’t allow the use of high-pitched dog whistles.)
That’s how it was supposed to work, anyway. Sometimes, just getting the racers lined up at the start required almost as much effort as herding cats.
And, as previously mentioned, not all of them were particularly quick out of the gate.
Rather than race, a couple in one heat seemed to forge a brief courtship on the track that quickly devolved into yapping and nipping. Which pretty much sums up how my dating life went before I got married.
A few dogs had to be escorted to the finish line, just so it could be said they completed the race. There were a couple of instances where dogs aspired neither to cross the finish line nor be recaptured by their coaches, leading to some of the most entertaining moments on the track.
After the preliminary heats, there were two semifinals and then the final race.
A dog named Jeb was crowned grand champion, with Porter and Rocketman finishing second and third, respectively.
Each of the three top finishers was awarded a trophy cup filled with doggie treats and chew toys.
Lest you think wiener dog racing is more for the owners than the animals, while I was interviewing his coach, Jeb reached into his trophy cup and began happily munching on a chewable stick.
Tracey Vonella, a Fort Lauderdale resident, said Jeb has been in “quite a few” races, with a winning track record. Vonella said COVID restrictions and an elbow injury have kept him out of competition for the last couple of years, but now he’s on the comeback trail.
Sadly, Jeb couldn’t hear the crowd cheering his win. Like many “double dapple” dachshunds, Jeb is deaf.
Rather than responding to Vonella’s calls, Jeb was motivated by handfuls of liver his coach had prepared for him.
“He loves food,” Vonella said. “He’s very food driven.”
In addition to the goodies provided by Port St. Lucie, Vonella said an additional reward awaited Jeb upon his return.
“When he gets home, he gets a Marrowbone (dog treat),” Vonella said. “Sometimes, they get vanilla ice cream.”
“They” presumably includes Rocketman, the third-place finisher who is also part of Vonella’s stable. Or kennel. Or whatever.
As for the competition, it appears to have solidified a place in Port St. Lucie’s Oktoberfest entertainment lineup.
Nutt said there were twice as many competitors this year as there were at the inaugural event.
“It’s a pretty hot thing,” Nutt said of wiener dog racing. “People are saying: ‘Beer and wiener dogs — what could be better?’ “
On Saturday night, I couldn’t make an argument for anything else.
This column reflects the opinion of Blake Fontenay. Contact him via email at blake.fontenay@tcpalm.com or at 772-232-5424.
