I’m usually so careful about what goes into Georgia’s head. I don’t expect an almost five-year-old to be selective about her entertainment, or have good taste when fed something sparkly and pink. If left to their own devices, kids will enjoy anything from Baby Einstein to The Wiggles. That’s why we shouldn’t leave them, we should guide them. And I guided my impressionable young child right into the gaping jaws of a cute little Jack Russell terrier.

“I can’t wait to see The Dog Movie! It’s going to be so exciting!”

The Dog Movie (not the real title) promised doggy stars arriving on a red carpet, cotton candy, and a post-premiere tea party. All before 10:30 on a Saturday morning. I figured it would be a silly little event, so I invited Georgia’s friend Zola and we headed out for some fancy fun. Thirty minutes toward Mt. Hood (“I’m getting car sick – I’m sick of the car.”), two double backs (“Um, Mommy? Are you sure you know where we are going?”), and good directions from the excessively tattooed one-toothed gas station attendant later (“Mommy, how does he eat with just one tooth?”) we finally arrived.

I rallied myself, putting a positive spin on the hoards of little kids, mostly girls in their finery, crowding to see the dogs. “Wow, look at all the fancy dresses, doesn’t everyone look pretty today?” I guided Georgia and Zola into one of five theaters showing the Dog Movie, grabbing some cotton candy and three plastic tiaras on the way. The girls wanted to sit in the very front row, and minutes later a perfectly coiffed, tanned and sparkly looking couple strode in and introduced their equally well-groomed dogs to the audience. The couple had written, produced, and directed the movie; all set on their lush, riverside property in nearby Boring, and welcomed us to enjoy it.

By the time the titles rolled by the glorified home movies of a bunch of dogs, cats, and horses I was kicking myself for not staying home, saving the gas, and going to the Car Free Park Day [1] instead. Six miles of streets closed to traffic! What a cool idea! But the girls were enchanted with thirty minutes of jerky camera work and a story that tried to cram in a lot of life lessons: adventures are exciting, dogs can ride horses, say please, use doggy life vests near water (except in the next scene while fishing), don’t go into strange tunnels, everyone is different, dreams can come true, you need friends, don’t ever leave without telling someone where you are going, being big isn’t scary, just because THEY are different doesn’t make them bad, it’s not about being different, it’s about being unique, single moms are very protective and never get to have any fun, pink dogs are annoying know-it-alls, beware of stranger danger, wait for the sequel and if you ever make a dog movie, make sure to hire professional voice over talent.

Yes. It was bad. But I forgave it as just someone’s mediocre, misguided attempt to bring something positive to the world of Children’s Entertainment. The girls buzzed about the movie, “Pretend I’m Annybelle and you’re Rosebud, and we like to eat dog cookies!” while they piled their plates with teacakes and sweets. They settled into one of the child-sized tables set with apple juice filled champagne glasses, and a reporter from the Sandy Post asked if he could interview them.

“What did you think of the movie?”
“Great!” Georgia said, between mouthfuls of brownie.
“I liked it!” said Zola, stuffing a cream puff into her mouth.
“What was your favorite part?” the reporter continued.
Georgia is unruffled by interviews, “I liked the part where the dog was in the swimming pool!”
Zola shyly agreed, “I liked the swimming dogs too.”

The girls got goodie bags and we headed out. They got to pet the pink poodle, and we watched as a Hummer limousine pulled up to gather the sparkling family and the load of dogs. My Momster sense, pushed aside during all the plastic party waste, clicked on. This wasn’t an innocent attempt to bring joy to kids, it was a promo party with a budget that surely surpassed the movie’s budget or quality to get these kids hooked on Annybelle! I’d been so naive to think it would be something we could experience and leave behind. I guarantee if Georgia ever sees another Annybelle episode (if one could possibly get made) she will recognize it and want to see it. It was marketing genius! Get 500 little girls, feed them cotton candy, give them tiaras festooned with foo-foo fur, let them meet a bunch of cute dogs, and treat them to sugary baked goods. Also, make sure to give them a free copy of the “movie” more sweets, and a promo poster.

So now we play the Annybelle in the swimming pool game at least six times a day, though we’ve only had to agonize through the movie twice. If it doesn’t run its course soon I think this DVD will suddenly develop a crippling scratch.

Photo courtesy of Photo Mojo [2].