“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?”...
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM…
Happy New Year
MAD AS A BOX OF FROGS
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"
Monday, June 20, 2016
Figaro is with a friend. She has realised why he is called Figaro – he has a piercing voice and feels it should be heard. When she took him, he was loudly operatic all the way home, and really hasn`t given up since.
|Figaro - "I have a lovely voice!"|
Kaiju has been visiting shows with me. He is a happy soul, and finds the whole business very interesting indeed. And, thank goodness, he travels really well. At the last show he was a welcome diversion from the kind of judging that makes you want to give up the whole business and try flower arranging instead. His little head was never still as he watched it all, and made it clear that he would like to go in and ask those big boys to play with him. As the judge relentlessly rewarded her friends and paid back her debts, he was delighted with the whole thing. Maybe he will restore my faith in dog showing? We shall see… his turn will come next month. As will his brother`s.
|Kaiju - all legs and enthusiasm.|
Meanwhile he is at that gangly five-month stage, all legs, and joints tied together with loose elastic. You wait with bated breath for the whole thing to come together…well, I think he will turn out OK.
I am writing this while listening to the back garden being bulldozed. Yes, really. Once upon a time it was a nice garden, but it became too much for me, and turned into a rampant tangle of bushes and brambles and even a fallen tree. Now it will be restored (I hope) to grass. Eventually.
And then it will have to be cut. Well, not by me.
What a pity Papillons don`t eat grass…