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"
We actually made it to Crufts. I had the help of two kind young friends and was very grateful for it. But I got through the day with no trouble (and further help from the couple, who plied me with food and carried boxes and were generally first rate.
Fidget likes shows. He likes them even better when I open up the chicken he gets as bait in the ring and discover it has gone off in transit. That made it at least 10 times more attractive. He indicated that he would do anything for it. I shoved the smelly packet in my pocket and we went into the ring.
And indeed he behaved impeccably. However, on the table, when his teeth were examined,he opened his mouth and breathed a blast of decayed chicken breath all over the judge. Fortunately judges are made of strong stuff, and she didn`t even recoil.
Well, he kept his interest and attention in a big class, and I was very pleased that he was second in good company. I made a big fuss of him. He realised that he had done something right. Would he get a reward ?
I left him with a meal on the bench, and went back to spot the foreign dogs in the rest of the classes. Some, of course, wee absent. I looked for the Luxembourg one, and the Serbian one. Then suddenly the Suit appeared. The kind of suit you only see in old pictures of life behind the Iron Curtain. Large, fitting where it touched, and seeming to have a life of its own. It had to be the Serbian. I was mesmerised.
But his bitch was very pretty and moved well, and won.
Well, the Best of Breed winner was one I would have chosen, and did well in the group. I saw lots of people, some of whom I only really meet at Crufts. And then it was time to go.
I was delivering a bitch in season to someone, so I collected her and she was put in the car. So was Fidget. And the penny dropped. This was his prize! Oh yes, he liked his prize! He was silent and full of plans all the way home.
Somehow I think the biscuit I gave him when we got home was a very poor substitute.