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.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007


A busy weekend - as always with dogs. Saturday eight till eight spent sittng the Afghan exam. No, this does not entitle you to claim Afghan citizenship, but it does qualify you to judge the hounds,
So a whole morning`s essay exam. "What would you expect to see when an Afghan moves towards you ?" (Tip - "a big hairy dog going at a fair lick" will not gain you a lot of marks here.) And an afternoon and evening spent going over some very patient dogs, trying to work out whether their withers were really vertically above their elbows and how authentic their saddles really were...
As you might guess I was fairly exhausted for the Club show the next day. Alas, my dogs were not. A whole day left shut up is not the best preparation for good show behaviour. Allegra went off like a rocket, Marcus managed to escape and investigate a lot of interesting females, and Roxanne, who is now 13, enjoyed swaggering about so much that she has been insufferable ever since.
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