Best of D.C. 2009

I was almost tempted to just give it to your dog. Yeah, yeah—your dog is the best dog in the world. Whatever. Congratulations. But after seeing this blond beauty pad around the neighborhood, I cannot, in good conscience, allow your biased protestations of superior cuteness to stand. It’s rare that a canine can rise above a breed as silly as the Labradoodle, concocted in the laboratory to coerce humans into somehow loving puppies more. But this dog, who makes the trip to Bloomingdale’s Big Bear Café each weekend at the behest of its exquisitely groomed owner, performs the feat with characteristic grace. Just look at that face! Yes, it’s a designer dog. Yes, it’s worth more than your car. Yes, it’s obnoxiously Obama. But look at that face! Sure, I’ve thought about it—snipping its leash while its owner lingers absentmindedly over a cappuccino, making a life together. But I’ve kept my distance. I’d hate for D.C.’s Best Dog to become just another Second-Best.