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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"

Saturday, December 20, 2008

STILL HERE.... 

...But recovering from one chest infection after another. Still, I did make it to the last show, coughing mightily.

Merlin stood the best chance. In a large class, the judge clearly liked him. But Merlin didn`t like the judge. As the man approached and stared at him, Merlin let his feelings be known. He barked. As my friend said - "not a welcoming bark".

Merlin screeched that this was obviously a Bad Man, that he wanted every dog here to know it, and that the Bad Man would not be getting to his Mum. I shut him up at once.

On the table he behaved. He tends to have an attack of the vapours, but wasn`t too bad this time.

The judge liked him and came back to stand and stare at him. And again Merlin let fly. This was not only a Bad Man, but a Bad Man who had had the audacity to feel his intimate bits! His indignation knew no bounds and echoed round the hall.

Amazingly, he was third.

And very pleased with himself.
Comments:
Oh Merlin - what a brave little dog you are. :P
 
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