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.

Sunday, February 24, 2008


Crufts looms on the horizon. Not without a few hitches on the way.

Yesterday I went out and immediately realised that a dog was missing. I searched about and eventually discovered a screeching Marcus in a nearby field, firmly attached to a barbed-wire fence by his tail. He was loud and indignant.

There is a method for dealing with this sort of thing. I trudged back and fetched the Really Big boltcutters and removed the whole section of fence his tail was wrapped around. Then I carried Marcus and fence back home and began the long job of disentangling his tail - impossible when the dog was trapped and struggling. He wasn`t hurt, but the tail is in a sad state of tangle and missing bits. I will work on it when he feels less shocked....but I fear that only hair extensions will fit the bill.

Truly and son are leading a blessedly uneentful life. She is becoming - whisper it - just a little bored. Just a little trapped. She wants me to sit with her. She gives me long soulful Swedish looks that say -
"He is soo boring ! He has no conversation (just like his father). It is just feed him and clean the other end all day."

Well Truly, millions of mothers all over the world have a lot of sympathy for your feelings from time to time. Just wait till he gets on his feet - a whole new ball game.

Meanwhile young Sven has become hugely fat on an uncontested milk supply, and has only just decided to open his eyes. I am favoured with those blank unfocused puppy stares that only last a few moments before he curls up and goes back to sleep, leaving me wondering if anything so fat will ever get to its feet....

Just you wait.
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