Next time you get blootered in Novosibirsk - help...
A distinctly shady gang.
Marcus chills out, sound asleep in the shade.
SPRING FUN AND GAMES
ALL AT SEA
EMAIL ME .
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"
Thursday, June 18, 2009
At the last show, he was really up for it. Showing well, not barking at the judge even when he made duck noises at him, looking good.....
Until I got him on the table. Where he behaved impeccably - and then I realised that the judge, who had been investigating his knickers for proof that he was really the boy he claims to be, was holding something up something huge. At least the size of a golfball....
A mat. I gazed in horror. The judge said something very relevant about the difficulties of coat care. I stared at the mat. Everyone stared at the mat, now at least the size of a cannonball. Merlin stared into space, wondering what he had done wrong now and why he was still on the table.
At last Merlin and I and the mat, at least the size of the planet Mars, slunk off and the three of us were placed 4th, one of his very worst results.
Poor Merlin - always let down by something or someone. Fortunately he didn`t realise it this time.
But I did see his daughters, and they are lovely.
I thought it best he didn`t see them. He would be off home to count his dog biscuits again.