Now that Douggie the doggie and me are up to three training classes a weekI’m beginning to wonder what I ever did before I got a dog.
Oh yes. Worked. These days I find myself working at all odd hours of the day and night trying to catch up on what I haven’t done during the day. How on earth do people manage to work full time and properly look after and exercise a large and active pooch? Answers gratefully accepted on a postcard, please.
Anyway. The competition club that we belong to was hosting a big doggie dancing competition and I was roped in to help. “Don’t worry, we’ll just put you on booking in. That’s easy and it will be a good learning exercise for when you start to compete.”
What they didn’t tell me was that I had to be there at 07.30 and it was an hours drive away. Good God! Why can’t they put these things on at a sensible hour?
Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to get used to it for when we start to compete, which will be in October.
Driving up the motorway I decided that the best way to wake up was to get the windows open and some music going. Ah, that took me right back, rock music blaring and me singing along. It might not have been the most tuneful, in fact, these songs had more keys than a locksmith by the time I’d finished murdering them but I got to my destination in a cracking mood, breezing in with a bright, “Good morning” that earned me more than one dirty look and comment of, “Why are you so bloody chirpy?”
Half an hour later I wasn’t feeling quite so chirpy when I was feeling the pressure of a dozen competitors thrusting their music at me and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. Fom beginners to Cruft’s champions, I was expected to give them all an instant and acceptable answer to their queries. Some I managed nicely, some may have noticed a strong whiff of bullshit in the air.
They didn’t lie when they said it would be a good learning exercise though it wasn’t so much a learning curve as a vertical line. My poor brains were scrambled.
The competition started.
At that point I realised that Douggie and I have a lot to learn. Some of these dogs were jaw droppingly good. Some not so good but we all have to start somewhere.
Before I knew it, it was time to leave and drive back to Lashes and Len’s house in time to meet the new addition to their family. The plan being that when Munki arrived home from TTF’s she would find out about and meet the new addition for the first time. That was a reaction I wanted to see.
Lashes has managed to keep her impending new arrival a secret for some time but finally he arrived to meet his new family. Welcome, Jasper, the bichon frise.
So cute he doesn’t even look real, he just looks like a white, fluffy button eyed teddy bear. I’ll post some photos for you as soon as I get my act together. Something which has been proving harder and harder to do as I simlpy haven’t got enough hours to fit everything in these days.
Anyway, back to the plot. Sunday followed much the same plot as Saturday. Except that on Sunday the committee had sneakily added my name to other things on the rota, the most scary of which was the judges steward. Oh. My. God. These judges are scary.
Waving their score sheets in the air I had to collect them in in about a nano second or they turned their beady eyes on me and rolled them in a ‘you just can’t get the staff’ kind of way. As they wrote down their scores my head swivelled nervously and rapidly left and right to make sure I didn’t leave any of them waiting.
On the plus side, I had the best seat in the house, directly behind the judges and it was one of the higher level rounds so I actually quite enjoyed myself.
So that was last weekend. I can’t wait till Duoggie and I start to compete. It’s brilliant fun.