Last night was the Westminster Kennel Club dog show, and if you missed the coverage on USA, a German shorthaired pointer named Carlee won best in show.

I mention this not only to further my own pro-dog agenda, but to recall the times when my dad would watch the show with our daschund Abby, all the while reassuring her that she was much prettier than the dogs on the TV.

To be fair, Abby was a cute dog. On the other hand, I don't know if she was all that threatened by the show dogs.

I wasn't the only one who ran across the dog show last night and watched a bit thanks in some part to my dad. My sister pretty much did the same thing. In fact, it sounded like we watched the exact same things on TV last night, which I wasn't expecting.

Unrelated to matters canine, Lent started last week. As many of you remember, I usually have some trouble coming up with something to give up, and even when I do I then sometimes have trouble actually giving it up (remember back to the Lent where I tried to give up cursing, to expected results).

This year I came up with something pretty quickly: nail biting. I've done pretty well so far, managing to not chaw on a single nail so far. They're growing out pretty quickly, which just ratchets up the temptation that much more. It may help that I stopped biting my nails a couple of weeks before I got married in deference to the soon-to-be missus. I think I wound up biting them on the wedding day itself (big surprise), but at least I didn't draw blood like some people who shall remain Rosenberg.