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.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


Training progresses. Boris, bless him, is not endowed with too much brain. The result is that he is willing to do everything I ask with a bemused look. When he is really puzzled he falls into a show pose, which is ideal for my purposes.

Calypso is a different kettle of fish. She sized up training class at once. Before the actual training starts there is a puppy socialising period. Calypso sees this as The Party. Every week she is wildly excited getting ready for The Party. When she gets there, screaming with excitement, she hits the ground running, and leads all the other puppies in wild chasing games. riccocheting around the room like a fur bullet. Boris watches in stolid astonishment.

Then comes the great betrayal. The lead. Show training starts. The Party`s over. Her parade has been well and truly rained on. The Great Sulk commences. The eyes roll and the tail is clamped between the legs. How could they do this to her? A lot of work looms ahead.

Recent shows? The least said the better. At least I can add a new judge to my list - the one who remembered her handler. And I will reveal all about the truly atrocious behaviour of Marcus next time.....
On the bright side, Boris's ears look lovely. All upright and everything.
It sounds very much like the littermates I have. The boy wants to please me, his attitude is "What do you want me to do?"
His sister, on the other hand, is all "What's in it for ME??"
That`s my usual experience too. Dogs are usually easier to show for that reason.l
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