Happily at the end of our leash

Charlie was a show dog once; never made the major leagues, but to borrow from the movie "On the Waterfront," he could have been a contender.Rosie never was.

Well, there was one brief foray, a rather small-time kennel-club beauty pageant in which Rosie was awarded ... nothing. Not even Miss Congeniality.

Rosie is one of those canines coquettishly referred to as "pet quality." It's the animal-world equivalent of having a good personality.

In other words, Rosie is no rose. Charlie has the looks. Rosie is steadfast and loving and true. Everything that a pet needs to be. Not a looker, but a keeper, to be sure.

Both of them are Border terriers, a slightly unusual and possibly unpopular breed of dog, depending upon your point of view. They love people, all people, family members and strangers alike. They love children - good ones and tail pullers. They wouldn't harm a hair of a homo sapiens's head.

But dogs are an entirely different matter. When it comes to dogs, they love each other. And that's about it.

We truly adore them and wouldn't trade our two tenacious terriers for anything in the world - not money or fame, not even a loveable Lab. They are ours forever, but we wouldn't advise getting one for your very own.

Unless you're incredibly fond of barking, and you never want to stop to talk to a neighbor while walking your dog. Oh, you can talk to the neighbors without pets all you want. But they're rarely out walking (they're usually jogging, so not in the mood for chit chat).

The ones out walking usually have dogs at the end of a leash, like we do.

My husband and I love walking our dogs, in theory at least. We love the extra bit of exercise it affords us, the chance to talk, to see the neighborhood, to see the neighbors. But most of our neighbors, like us, have dogs.

Friendly dogs, dogs that want to sniff and pant and say "How's it going, Charlie? How ya doin', Rose? Ow!!! Whadja try and bite me for? I was only sayin' hello!!"

Cheeks tinged with red, we make loud disciplining noises, offer our sincere and heartfelt apologies, and make sure no real damage has been done. And then we beat a hasty retreat, pulling our miscreant hounds behind us, vowing, once again, never to stop and say hello, or even smell the roses, unless no one else is anywhere in sight.

Gratefully, our neighbors are a most forgiving group. The ones who know us best just smile and keep on walking, picking up the pace a bit, just as we do. We sigh, we shake our heads and say, "Next time, Labradors."

But would Labs be any better, or is this just a dog-fancier's pipe dream - the hope of a breed that would accommodate an occasional brief conversation with other pet owners? These animals do exist; I've seen them. Surely it isn't us, the innocent owners, who bring out this sort of anti-social behavior in our dogs? We've given them every opportunity: a nice town, quiet, tree-lined streets. What more could they want? To rule the world, is my guess. One retriever at a time.

Other terrier owners understand us all too well. The Westies, Scotties, and Jack Russells we sometimes run into - and then run away from - are just as raucous and rude as our two little pedigreed mutts. Their owners looks every bit as chagrined as we do, as they scurry past us, holding onto the leash for dear life. So we've come to the conclusion that it's not just our subset, it's the terrier world.Maybe they should just call them terrors instead.

And yet everyone who ever sees our dogs always tells us how cute they are, how good looking. Well, they always say that Charlie is handsome. Then they say, "And Rosie's such a sweet dog, isn't she?" And she is, come to think of it (when she's not chasing rabbits or yapping at a passing poodle). And isn't that more important than possessing fleeting good looks? Shouldn't sweetness count for something?Maybe not in the rarified dog-show world, but in our house it matters a lot.

I'm sure it matters to Charlie, too, if I may be so bold (foolish?) as to second- guess a dog. He's loyal and true. But he's also a looker. We love him just the same, though every now and then we sense he feels a little superior to the rest of us.

Maybe after being judged so often in his former life (the two years before we got him), after winning so many blue ribbons, he knows how to spot a champion. And he also knows pet quality when he sees it.

I'd like to think he's judged us best- in-show when it comes to owners. But the way he sometimes looks, first at me and then at Rosie - well, let's just say I have my doubts.