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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"

Sunday, April 18, 2010

video Fidget and Delia in yet another loud but harmless puppy battle - "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"

ONE MAN AND HIS DOG 

No, I didn`t watch the great political debate, between Gordon, his huge hands spread out to show how easily things can slip through his fingers, David, the fresh bright young Cockerel crowing lustily on top of the same old festering dungheap, and Nick, bowed under the curse the wicked fairy bestowed on his party at its inception (why, oh why wasn`t she invited?) that however charismatic its leader or sensible its policies it will always be unelectable.

Instead I went to dog training.

In the course of the evening the topic of the arguments between the KC and the German Shepherd people came up. I said that a lot of the weaknesses in the breed had come over from Germany.

"Well, she said, there used to be some good ones in Germany, with straight backs and good hocks." She paused and thought. "Hitler had a nice one.

I thought for a bit. This was history in a new light. But I had seen pictures, after all. "Yes, not bad."

"Isn`t that the dog game all over ! Loathe the man, love his dog!"

I felt I dared not add anything to this. I am known for being very cynical about dogshowing, but, gentle reader, some comparisons are best not pursued at all.

Monday, April 05, 2010


THE WRITING IS ON THE WALL.... 

....and I was the one doing the writing, for I was judging last weekend.

It`s a funny game, judging. I always wonder, before I start, if it will all go blank and I will look around and think "but they are all just little dogs" - much like Alice saying "you`re just a pack of cards".

But it never works like that. I start the first class and I am straight in to assessing movement, looking for level toplines, shuddering at heads that seem to belong on horses rather than dogs, investigating mouths and floppy ears, and the whole thing just rolls along.

Judging guarantees you many knives in your back, but I really don`t care. Dog showing is not for the thin-skinned, and judging is even worse in that respect. Given that this doesn`t disturb you, judging is fun, and a chance to let people see what you really think about the breed.

So I had a good day. I was happy with my winners.

Solitaire had the experience of a whole day in with Delia and Fidget, and headed for the door with a glazed look as soon as she was set free. Delia and Fidget were their usual happy selves. They have been assured that they are not penguins, and this has taken a great weight off their minds...

"We have learned that penguins are birds. Big ones. Bigger than chickens. We already know all about chickens, which Mum says live in a land called Tesco - they are very tasty. Bigger sounds better! So we are on the lookout for penguins, and will take every chance to investigate the Tesco bags even more closely than usual, just in case...."

Delia and Fidget

Sunday, April 04, 2010


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