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Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"

Friday, May 21, 2004

ON THE BALL 

An excellent day at the Scottish Championship show. The sun shone, no travel problems and the Young Dog won under an American judge. One of those days when everything fell into place - even got a lift home. Advised to strongly push the YD, and will, since he enjoys it.

He has had little show experience due to a certain lack during his adolescence......lack of a certain indispensable male item of which there should be two. As an adolescent male human he would have suffered immeasurable angst - as an adolescent dog he simply licked the one he had. I was the one who worried and waited. And one day - I`d love to say with a loud clang - the ball dropped, and his show career began.

The advice I always give to others on this is: "Worry at six months, panic at 9 months, despair at a year." YD came through at the panic stage.

(Please note that this advice applies to male DOGS only....if by any chance you are an adolescent male with similar problems, sorry, you`re in the wrong blog.)
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