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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, February 08, 2015

STRING THEORY 

On the way back from a local show where Tess Trueheart singularly failed to distinguish herself and I picked up a lot of gossip, I called in at the big Tesco to shop.  Plastic bags are forbidden now, in the name of Saving The Planet, so i produced two canvas ones when  the checkout girl kindly offered to pack for me.

They were soon filled, and I reached into a pocket and pulled out the big string

whitestringbag_grande bag. 

She looked at it lying there, like the discarded skin of some exotic animal.

“What is it?.   What does it do?”

I explained, reasonably, that it was a string bag.

“You mean things go inside it?   How does it work?   Where do things go?”

I kept a straight face as I pointed out the opening, and the handles, which pretty well exhausted this branch of string theory.  She continued to be loudly amazed at the amount it held.
I lugged home the sagging bag, also amazed that

a)  at my time of life I had gone back to using string bags, which up to now had been a vague childhood memory
b)  I should have to explain this strange technology to a teenager.   Or indeed anyone.

Sunday, February 01, 2015

TRAINED TO THE SHOVEL 

The puppies are coming on, although they are not getting outside a lot due to weather.   Always a problem with winter litters.

Nevertheless, in the morning they all rush out for a very necessary moment….except for Dancer.  


Freya (V IRIDIUM)  Dancer (V QUICKSILVER) 15
Freya and her brother Dancer, the shovel trained dog


He heads straight for the heating stove.  It is fuelled by coal, and in front of it lies a little shovel.  Dancer positions himself, and makes a neat deposit in the shovel  - which, of course, I immediately dispose of in the stove.   Then he goes out.

He must think there is a fuel shortage.  Possibly he has somehow missed the 4 tons of coal under the blue tarp behind the garage?    However, I think his offering although kindly meant, is not really going to make a lot of difference.  Even if Freya and Melanie joined in, it would not significantly reduce my heating bills. 

At the moment the only one likely to go to a new home is Freya.    However, if Dancer does go, I can see myself having a hard time explaining that he is “shovel trained”! 

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