<$BlogRSDURL$>

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"

Sunday, January 29, 2006

OUR INTREPID REPORTER 

A quiet day or two spent writing up my report on the show.

There is an art to this.

Certain time honoured words and phrases are expected, and the Kennel club is always refining these. You can attend seminars on how to write this stuff.

You can`t write things like -

"Showy little dog strutted his stuff so well I overlooked the fact that his two back legs were almost crossing as he walked", and

"Backed off me, screamed, urinated, howled, bit the next dog and tried to climb up his owner`s leg" in your notes has to be translated into:

"Did not quite give of his best on the day".....

And "In six months time he`ll be big enough to pull a cart full of coal" turns into:

"Not lacking in bone and substance"...

Then there is the problem of the Truly Awful Specimen. This doesn`t usually happen at championship shows and I certainly haven`t had to cope with it this week. But we`ve all had it at open shows. You look at the dog and wonder what breed it`s supposed to be - then realise with a shudder that it`s your breed. Or its movement would only win a prize in a class for children`s home-made robots. It is invariably confident and really happy to be at the show.

And of course there are traditional phrases to cover this. They are:

"Has a lovely nature"

and the ultimate dismissal, the one that tells you that your pet is just that and nothing more:

"Really enjoyed his day out"

Read `em and weep!
Comments: Post a Comment

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