When I was 10-15 years old (1940-1955), my father (then 60-75) ran a Plain Dog Show in North Philadelphia,which catered to young kids. No thoroughbreds were allowed. He used a Leroy Lettering device to put the name of the dog & owner on an official looking document. There was a prize for the yellowest dog, the dog with the longest tail, the dog with the most spots. With my mother's help, he saw to it that every child's dog won a blue ribbon. The show was advertised by posting information about the show on telephone poles & in store windows over a large area of North Philadelphia. The following poem was part of the advertising posters. Yes, I went to see the bow-wows, and I looked at every one, Proud dogs of each breed and strain that's underneath the sun; But not one could compare with--you may hear it with surprise-- A little yellow dog I know that never took a prize. Not that they would have skipped him when they gave the ribbons out, Had there been a class to fit him--though his lineage is in doubt. No judge of dogs could e'er resist the honest, faithful eyes Of that plain little yellow dog that never took a prize. Suppose he wasn't trained to hunt, and never killed a rat, And isn't much on tricks or looks or birth--well, what of that? That might be said of lots of folks whom men call great and wise, As well as of that yellow dog that never took a prize. It isn't what a dog can do, or what a dog may be, That hits a man. It's simply this--does he believe in me? And by that test I know there's not the compeer 'neath the skies Of that plain little yellow dog that never took a prize. Oh, he's the finest little pup that ever wagged a tail, And followed man with equal joy to Congress or to jail. I'm going to start a special show--'Twill beat the world for size-- For faithful little yellow dogs, and each shall have a prize. ANONYMOUS.