Not quite what we are used to



I know this has nothing to do with creative writing or poetry or anything else appropriate to this blog, but I just had to mention it. Yesterday my husband and I took our two Jack Russells to a local companion dog show called ‘A Dog’s Day Out’.

They (the dogs that is) were suitably badly behaved as only Jack Russells can be, but I still registered Pancake, hoping to enter her in the Best Biscuit Catcher category or something equally silly. Pancake is the undisputed champion terrier racer in the nearby village of Cowley, but then that’s an event where yapping, snarling and snapping are positively encouraged.

Then the call came for the Best Veteran over 10 years old so I thought, what the heck, I’ll put Cookie in as she’s nearly 11. The judge said she had good ears, good coat, good teeth, did I clean them regularly etc. No I said, the vet does it from time to time. What a shock I had when she won! A rosette bigger than her head (bigger than my head almost) and a packet of lamb and rice nibbles.

Eventually Pancake disgraced herself in the Prettiest Bitch class by snarling at another terrier and pulling some fur out of a fluffy puppy’s nose. I spent most of the rest of the afternoon apologising.

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