Never work with children or animals

Friday was quite a busy old day one way and another.

It started off with me being just a bit too efficient for my own good and having to hang about on the dooorstep of my favourite budget supermarket waiting for it to open.  That’s not good. Shopping in there when you can run from the car to the shop with a coat over your head so none of your M & S shopping friends will see you is one thing but having to wait on the doorstep to get in just makes you look kind of desperate. They’d have been watching to see if I came out clutching a bottle of cheap hooch ( Oh – I did. Pretend Pimms, very nice).

Shopping all done and out of the way I decide to take poochie for a walk. Not so much a walk as a plod. It was hotter than hell here on Friday and we all know that I don’t retain these youthful good looks by sitting in the sun soaking up rays and accelerating the prune-ification process, that’ll happen quite quickly enough on it’s own, thank you.  The words ‘sun’ and ‘worshipper’ can’t really be attributed to me. Shade worshipper is more like it.

As much as I love the warmth and the sunshine I really am much more comfortable with a slight dusting of cloud cover and moderate temperatures. That’s why I keep dragging poor old B back to Scandinavian countries, I feel right at home there. I think I must have been  a Viking in a previous life. My latest scheme er ..*cough* plan for a wonderful holiday for the pair of us is to go to Finland in winter when the sea has frozen. It’d be ACE!!!  Brilliant photography.

Anyway, back to the plot: On went the factor 50, the log sleeved top, trousers and hat and we trudged over the moors at the back of the house for an hour. It would have been much more sensible head for the the woods and therefore a bit of shade  but time scales didn’t allow it. There wasn’t a trace of shade anywhere, even the sheep were looking at us as if to say, ‘look at those two, they must be barking.’ Well, one us us was.

back to the studio for a baby shoot. I really must find a new way to describe a baby portrait session, ‘baby shoot’ sounds like a type of country pursuit involving men in plus fours carrying shotguns.  The baby was the same on who came last week, you know, the one who’s mother insisted on bringing him even though he was ill. Tsk. The poor kid really wasn’t up to it so I put a stop to it after a few minutes and told her to come back when he was better.  He was loads better this week and we got some great shots – obviously I can’t show you on here, you’ll just ahve to take my word for it.

Since poochie was still with me I thought it might be nice to get some studio portraits of her.  Roping son P in to help we had a hysterical 15 minutes, it did reslt in me getting bitten but hey ho. It wasn’t the dog’s fault, she just got over excited.  She is a ridiculously nervous dog so I was a bit worried about how she’d react to the flash but after a minute or two she was fine. Son P, who has been learning how to use a dslr looked as though he fancied a go at taking the photos so I did the dog handling while he took the pics. I think he did really well, what do you think?

And if you’re wondering how you get a dog to dance well, here’s how:

Scooby snacks.

A handful of dog treats in my hand, she’d jump through hoops of fire for a scooby snack!  Actually, she probably will be jumping through hoops of fire in a few months- we are starting agility classes next week.   At the country show last week they had dogs jumping through hoops of fire. I personally probably wouldn’t have sent a very hairy dog through the hoops, that just seemed like an accident waiting to happen. had to admire the dogs for their bravery  though- or their stupidity depending on how you look at it.  I’m bloody greedy but I’m not so greedy that I’d jump through fire to get to a scooby snack…….maybe.

Did I mention that I don’t actually like dogs?  Nasty, smelly, time consuming, demanding, begging  brutes. I’ve held on to that line for donkey’s years. My sister always maintained that I’d be really good with dogs and I’d always refer her back to the ; nasty, smelly  etc, etc……..line.   What the hell happened to me then?

Poochie did.

What a brilliant dog – I love her to bits and she’s not even mine.

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