“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?”...
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM…
Happy New Year
MAD AS A BOX OF FROGS
OFF WE GO!
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"
Saturday, September 22, 2012
The trio attend training class weekly, and in between run riot. The discipline of the lead is still not really appreciated. One of the problems is Belle, She is intelligent. This is no help at all. She really cannot see any good reason for marching up and down on the end of a lead at all. It`s not as if we are going anywhere, after all....
|BELLE AND HER MOTHER, SOLITAIRE|
BELLE: "Ham is nice, but really I could be doing better things - maybe reading philosophy or studying calculus - than walking back and forth with a piece of string round my neck"
GRACIE: "Ham, and lots of it, and let the others see me getting it, and know that they are having none because they are totally inferior!"
CUPCAKE: "Ham! Ham! Ham!"
And this lot I have to get ready for the showring in December!
I hope we all make it.
Friday, September 14, 2012
The day of the show was hot. Really hot. Over eighty. But fortunately we were in the shade. I started quickly as other breeds would be in the ring after us.
And on we went. Little dogs showing well despite the heat, and the howls and barks of the Afghans behind us. I had the pleasure of putting up a dog I really admire.
I had said that I would prefer a picnic lunch, as I didn`t want to stop.
And it arrived. The stewards (who were useless) were in fits of laughter. "Straight from the Ritz", they cackled.
Here is is:
One tiny cheese sandwich cut in four. (I can`t eat cheese)
One pork pie
One bag crisps
One tin of Tango
Not the worst show lunch ever - that was at an open show in the north of England and I can only describe it as "something brown with potatoes." But close.
We went on. All the young bitches seemed to be "just out of season" and were very flighty, and the Afghan sound effects didn`t help. Tails were dropping. And it got hotter.
I was tired, and glad to get to the end. But happy to give top honours to a promising young bitch, and make that admirable dog overall winner.
Now I could get down to sorting out the results printout, which was complicated by the fact that the stewards couldn`t be bothered to send the results over to the secretary, and haggling over my expenses (eventually I played both the Little Old Lady and the Recovering from Illness cards), and at last we faced the horrors of the M25 on the long way home.
Delivered to the door by my good friend, I found all the dogs delighted to see me, especially the puppies.
And Cupcake was so delighted his ears were up!