“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?”...
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM…
Happy New Year
MAD AS A BOX OF FROGS
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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"
Thursday, October 01, 2015
And indeed the journey was fine, apart from the late departure of the ferry “due to four arrests on the way over from Ireland” Best not to ask…
The venue had been changed. Well, its site had been. This show takes place in what I think of as the Big Tin Shed which, like the witch Baba Yaga`s hut, tends to move about a bit (although probably not on chicken legs). It had moved out of the city, down the M1 to a site formerly occupied by a prison, now demolished. We were given a postcode for the satnav. No problem. We rolled off the ferry in the wee small hours, and headed south.
But soon the satnav took us off the motorway, and into a network of lanes, getting smaller and smaller, until at last it announced triumphantly that we had arrived. We stared in dismay at a small building site on a dead end. And as we pondered the difficulty of reversing out, other headlights appeared behind us. All people deceived by satnav. And a bus. We all conferred, and the bus driver thought he might find the place. We all said we would follow. Suddenly
we had a convoy.
|Melanie off to a new life|
I somehow remembered the old film with Kris Kristofferson, who headed a trucker convoy under the handle of “Rubber Duck”. Our Rubber Duck was an increasingly frustrated bus driver, as we followed him in and out of country lanes, small villages, and side roads which looked unfortunately familiar. We could have welcomed the appearance of a smokey bear, especially one with a map and local knowledge. At last we found a gate, and a night watchman, and we all parked in a vast wasteland of a cleared site. And in the morning, there was the BTS, gleaming in the sun.
I got my lot out and settled….well, apart from poor Melanie, never a good traveller, who had found the boat and then the convoy, even with a travel pill, all too much and emerged as a small sad damp lump. Much drying ensued, but she was still distressingly sticky and undeniably sad.
And “sad” also summed up the judging. Not many there, and Tess Trueheart and Sparkle, who gave their all, were passed over in favour of really big dogs. The best thing for me was seeing my boys, Cupcake and Mr Wag again. And of course the good friend who handles them for me. But otherwise we were happy to be booked on the early boat home. Alas, the bus passengers had no such escape, and were forced to enjoy the facilities of the BTS (4 toilets and one burger bar) until late afternoon.
I hope Melanie will settle, as the boys have. Time will tell.