I knew the last task would be the hardest because I had never met them, had only the faintest clue what they looked like, and had no knowledge what they sounded like. How could this be? Friends I'd never met? Easy: We were part of the big community of pet lovers on the Internet.

I belong to a couple of mailing lists, the online equivalent of a discussion group, and I frequent a few online message boards. Over the years you get a feel for the people, and you start to form friendships with those with whom you share some commonalities -- same kind of pet, same kind of attitude toward pets.

In recent years I've met a few such people in person. One couple in particular are now among my very best friends, even though they're 3,000 miles away. I spend a week or two in their home every fall, and I know their kids (two), dogs (four), cats (six) and bird (one) almost as well as I know my own family. Heck, they are my family. The same is true of a couple of dog lovers who live much closer to me, a mere four-hour drive away. We were once just words on a computer screen. Now they too are family.

Still, it's one thing to visit someone's home -- you can guess it's them when they answer the door -- and quite another to find someone in a crowd as vast as the one at this dog show. A couple of people found me the first day of the show; I found the rest the second. I never would have spotted the retriever gang I was hoping to find had not one of them been wearing a T-shirt with a likeness of her dog on it -- the same rare breed I have.

"Is that a flat-coated retriever?" I ventured. "Are you Gina?" she said. The answer, in both cases, was "yes." You'd have thought we were a couple of spies talking in secret code -- "The owl hoots at midnight." All that was missing was a secret handshake.

Instead, there were hugs all around and plenty of pictures. We imposed on some jaded New Yorker to take our group picture in front of the wall of show-dog pictures. The woman was amazingly patient, snapping a single picture with at least a half-dozen different cameras. Everyone wanted to remember the moment.

This group of purely electronic acquaintances, mostly golden retriever owners, had decided to come to the show to meet. They weren't people with show dogs, for the most part -- just people brought together by the love of their dogs.

I later caught up with the flat-coat group, in the area where the dogs are displayed when they're not in the ring. Again, it felt like home. One woman I've "known" for about four years now (but never really met until the second day of the dog show) knew me well enough to know what I needed most. "Do you want a dog fix?" she asked. I spent the next few minutes snuggling with one of hers, which made being away from mine a little easier.

The Internet is a mixed blessing, many have argued. For some, it is isolating: Their contact with other people never goes beyond the electronic level. For others, it's dangerous: They fall deeper and deeper into destructive obsessions. But for others -- and I'm certainly one of the fortunate -- the Internet has been a way to connect with people you'd never have met otherwise, people who really ought to be in your life.

That's what I was thinking when the nice New Yorker told us all to smile for the camera. I put my arm around a fellow animal lover and was happy as a golden retriever to be with my friends.

A: Have you ever had a teacher or boss who never had anything nice to say about anything you did but came down hard on you if you made a mistake? Did you find that person likable? Do you enjoy being around that person, or were you stressed-out waiting for the boom to fall?

We're not sure why so many people are so quick to criticize and so slow to praise, but we do know this all-too-human tendency can have a negative effect on your bird. Instead of waiting to catch your bird doing something wrong, look for opportunities to praise your pet. A few sweet words, a favorite treat or a neck scratch -- your bird deserves these signs of respect for being the kind of companion you want him to be, however briefly he's managing to pull it off.

Is he playing quietly with a toy? Staying on his play gym? Show him you approve! Spend time with your bird every day, working on good behaviors, playing with toys together, and just plain hanging out. Talk to your bird, snuggle your bird, if he likes that sort of thing (not all do), and take time to figure out your bird's favorite places to be scratched.

If the only time you deal with your bird is to (occasionally) clean up the cage, change the food and water, and yell at him for screaming, you're not holding up your end of the deal. Ideally, your pet bird should be a member of your family. Make him one, and always keep an eye out for opportunities to let your bird know he's appreciated. He'll appreciate you in return!

You might also benefit from a call to an avian behaviorist, who can help show you how to train your bird. An avian veterinarian should be able to refer you to someone.

A: You may not have liked that big white poodle, but this Westminster finalist came into the show as the top dog in the sport. As for the haircuts, these dogs are used to it, and after their show careers are over they're usually cut down into something easier to live with. The poodle's show cut has a sensible origin: It was supposed to help the dog while swimming. Hair was removed from where it was thought to be in the way, and was left where it was thought to keep the dog warm -- over the chest and neck, over the ankles and hips.

Things have gotten pretty ridiculous since, I agree, but don't look for any changes soon. Even a good dog couldn't win without that haircut. It's interesting to note that there has been a surge of interest in using the larger poodles for their original purpose -- as smart, responsive and hardworking retrievers. The poodles who work in the field are usually cut short -- not shaved, just trimmed down. They swim just fine, thank you very much.