<$BlogRSDURL$>

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"

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

LEARNING CURVE 

Every Tuesday is Training Class day. The puppies are piled into a travelling box and taxied across the river to the only Toydog Taining Class I know of, squabbling ferociously as we go.

The class begins with a free socialising period, which my lot obviously see as The Party. Tiny puppies scoot about wildly, screeching and doing what puppies do, often in corners where we don`t find it till later.... Most of them are Poms, but there are also Pekes and other toy breeds. This part of the event is terribly exciting.

Then the leads are put on. The party`s over. My lot resent this terribly. It`s a great betrayal to have a lead put on and to be obliged to walk, stand and be poked on a wobbly table by strangers.

They all react differently. Florian takes it all calmly, his mind somewhere else. Prudence hates being touched, but likes the moving on the lead part. Since at present her only facial expression is "Omigod!", she does not give an impression of success. Marcus has never really come to terms with the lead and when put on the ground takes off like one of the many leggeed walkers you used to see on ROBOT WARS, scuttling on madly, often between my legs with disastrous results. I despair of all of them.

We are usually joined by a very aristocratic snooty Chin. Chins are like that. This one is called "Whizz", and his new owner was puzzled as to why - until he let him off the lead. After Whizz had whizzed on 3 handbags, 4 ladies` legs and a number of unsuspecting and now damp puppies, it became obvious. He will be Whizz for life.

"It could be worse - he could have done something else." I volunteered.

Whizz favoured me with a very bleak Chin stare. His owner saw this.

"Look, he`s insulted. Chins are like the Queen - they don`t do that." said his owner. "Every so often we find carefuly deposited a small black pearl in a velvet bag, which we are privileged to clean up. " He smiled bleakly, already well under the Chin brainwashing process.

Whizz favoured me with a goggle-eyed look of triumph.

I collected my three resentful scruffy balls of fluff and fled.

Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?