I’m late arriving at Shrewsbury, because I misjudged the distance, for what is the final outdoor dog show of the year. It’s a very chilly morning, so it’s probably a good job it’s the last one outdoors. In fact, it’s so cold here that they have to de-ice some of the equipment before it can be used. Hmmm and I’ve left L all alone in a nice warm bed for this.
I get Doggo out of the car and he stares at me with a look of disbelief, I believe that those very same words ‘nice warm bed’ are on the tip of his tongue. Look on the bright side mate. The icy conditions mean that a couple of the courses don’t start on time so that we can get away with being late and get to recce the course.
Despite the conditions, the old master sure footedly puts in a clear round on the icy surface. Then so too does MD, although at the third attempt. He’s been skipping some weaves today, once at the end, once in the middle and on both occasions there were only six of them. Surely even MD can count up to six?
Later, Doggo has a bit of a moment on one of his course. He stops and has a good look around before continuing. Not helpful. I think he was looking for the photographer. No mate, he’s not here either, he’s at home too, probably in a nice warm bed.
Then there’s a tricky last course for Doggo, we totally nail the hard bit but then get eliminated on the easy bit at the end, as I urge him to go faster and he takes the fastest route by missing out the penultimate jump.
In the end, not a bad day but no rosettes.
Daughter goes over to visit Son, so we send a food parcel with her. You know fruit, veg, juice, meat etc. He’s been surviving on just pasta and sauce for a fortnight, and he’s not even trapped down a mine. So we had to do something so that he doesn’t die of malnutrition before he’s 21. He’s already contracted Fresher’s Flu, presumably from lack of nutrients, although it can be contracted in more pleasurable circumstances, by snogging an infected person.
(Sunday 17th October)