I should know better

Well, I managed all of it and I`m still on my feet. I have posted pictures of the baptism of young Logan to prove -

1. That sometimes I do quite normal things

and

2. That I have quite normal, nay, respectable relatives.

However none of them ran off from the groaning post-baptism buffet table and champagne to wash two dogs and pack endless grooming tools and potions into well-used bags, while encouraging a sulky Florian who has resented his extrovert brother Marcus` visit, (and especially the blatant theft of his special green ball.) Then a 2.30am bus pick up at the lonely car park, wondering if I had remembered all those pills the doctor had told me to stay at home and take.

And it turned out a good day, with both boys doing well. Marcus, fresh from mating a bitch a few days ago, had lost weight and was now casting so badly that every time the comb went through his coat we all seemed to be living in a snowglobe.

I mentioned to another exhibitor that he seemed to have decided that you go on a diet and take all your clothes off for sex - a great idea for people, but distinctly counterproductive for a show Papillon.

"Not my lad!" she said. "Quick as he can and then he`d want a fag and a fish supper."

We both looked down at her happy, furry tailwagging lump.

"And he`d absolutely never take his socks off..."