Romance Isn't Dead

Dogging in Grantham today but thanks to the dodgy postal service, I do not have my schedule yet. Normally I leave for these things at around 7am but it's Xmas, so Doggo and me opt for a late start. Enough time for a bit of indulgence with L before we head off around 8.30. Forgot to get any sausages as treats for Doggo, so he's on the cheese today instead.

We get there just in time to do our first run, something called Unders & Overs. In all we do four courses, nothing spectacular, as my main aim is to make sure I reinforce all the stuff we've been doing in training rather than go for speed. Not that Doggo does speed anyhow; well not unless there's a Weimaraner in close proximity. We have three clears and I thought it was four. As we crossed the line, I looked back at the judge for the customary clap of hands for a clear round but no he was walking back up the course to replace a pole that someone had dislodged. I don't remember us doing that. I look at Doggo, who seems to shrug his shoulders and roll his eyes upwards "Wasn't me Guv, Where's me cheese?"

Derby get a bore draw, 0-0 at Burnley.

It's quite a short day for a dog show and I get home for just after 4.00. Make myself busy making eggnog laced with rum and brandy, to oil the wheels of our Xmas festivities.

In the evening I treat L to romantic meal for two at Scruffys. Where we have Leffe Brune, a bottle of Faustino Crianza and their special liquor coffee (which was good but not really that special). Oh yes we have food too, L has tortillas with chilli and I have Moroccan Lamb. We stagger home and take a port to bed. I expected L to be knackered but she 'slips into something more comfortable', black French knickers. Naturally with provocation like that she going to get fucked. Who says romance is dead.