Firstly I must apologise to Basset Diary loyal fans. All four of them.... A combination of work and other issues have prevented me from getting near the computer (or Metal Mickey ~ as my Dad calls anything with a plug socket attached to it " dumb founded elec~trickery I don't understand it. " ) My Dad is to I.T. what Pol Pot was to Human Resources.
I digress where was I ? Hounds its all about the hounds!
You may recall that I had entered the 'buffoons' into a local dog show. Caught up in the hysteria of it all I began coiffuring the mutts to a frenzy. (Well I pulled the goo from Lewis' right eye and applied the corner of a wet hanky to Monty's snooty hooter. )
You may recall that Quentin (aka 'Our Man in Havana') had established the names of me hounds and abruptly moved on. Undeterred I eyed the competition. This was going to be a walkover...
There were a lot of owners at the show that looked like they spent a lot of time with their dogs. A lot of time with their dogs and not quite as long in the shower. I am not being cruel, this is merely an observation. (There appears to a be a bizarre obsession with Australian Bush hats, jeans and Doc Martin boots amongst die hard 'Doggy People') These were beautifully married with T-shirts and or fleeces depicting; a) A North American Wolf scene, with a number of the wolves apparently howling at the moon , b) A tigers head encompassing the entire item of clothing or c) I (heart) (specific breed of dog ). Alternatively there were also a number of T-shirts emblazoned with the names of local ladies rugby teams .
To my right a lady (wearing wolf scene ) held three on a variety of leads. I barely noticed two of them as the third distracted my attention. There was probably Whippet in him, probably a bit of Terrier and there may be even have been a smidgen of Lab. There was definitely a dog that was wearing a nappy ( I kid you not) and I think moved by remote control. I think ( bless him) that this mutt had passed away some time ago and " I heart robo dog- T Shirt - lady-owner" had him stuffed and had a small electric motor inserted in him. He stood rigid. Rigid apart from the occasional shake and or spasm.
Piece of piss I thought. I looked to my left.
Lady ( with Tiger Fleece and moustache) holding 5 (yes 5) whippets. All on leads that were the width of my boot lace. All moving in complete unison. All completely scared of everything. In fact they were scared of being scared. They shook and whimpered and the mere thought of any contact, human canine or otherwise . Miss Tiger Fleece commanded and demanded their undivided attention. It was synchronised dog shaking at it's very best.
A myriad of other breeders and owners continued around the arena.I was confident, I was actually quietly confident. Three judges stepped into the square, Quentin (as discussed) a lady called Steve and a lady in a Wolf Scene T Shirt. Need I say more.
My two had actually at this point, realised this was something different. They began to look like the pedigree hounds that they are. Lewis sat fluffing his chest out like some rampant pigeon cooing for a mate. Monty stood fully erect posturing his wonky tail and disguising it's bendy gait.
" My god.. we are going to win boys, we really are going to win...."
My mind drifted. Front page in local rag
MONTY & LEWIS WIN AGAIN
At work:
"Heard about your dogs Kev...fantastic"
Telly:
" So how do you feel about being on the Jonathon Ross show boys?"
Radio:
" Lewis & Monty meet Terry"
This was just the beginning. Forget work. My two were going to be selling everything from dog food to hoovers. Max Clifford was moments from his latest clients. I was moments from leaving work and living on a beach. My my drifted , the minds of Lewis & Monty drifted.
Monty dreamed about lush green vegetation, the cool freshness of grass tickling his soft under belly. He dreamed of playful rabbits teasing and running from him, of gilt edged dog bowls containing Michelin 'starred' dog food. He dreamed of foreign travel, politics and world peace. He dreamed that one day he would be King of all Bassets.
Lewis also dreamed. He dreamed about licking dirty plates in the dishwasher.
The judges neared, Steve, Quentin and Wolf scene T Shirt lady approached. They held rosettes, oh yes rosettes. Lewis & Monty licked their lips, they could almost taste the ribbons that had been specially hand made in China by children (forgive me).
Wolf Scene Howling At The Wind T Shirt Lady:
" And the winner is.........."
Pause
Pause
Pause
" ..................( robot in nappy dog) ....."
Me " Oh my god."
Monty " Oh my god."
Lewis " Has anyone loaded the dishwasher yet ?"
Robo dog wheels over in his nappy (cunningly concealing the motor no doubt) and has rosette attached to his aerial..
Me " Okay boys lets go for second"
Monty " Yeah its gotta be second Dad"
Lewis " Can I have a biscuit?"
Quentin:
" And second place goes to............"
Me
" Bollocks. A flock of scared whippets."
We didn't wait around for runner up. I think they were going to give it to a dead seagull that had been washed up on the beach, but had dried in the sun in the "sort of a shape of a dog."
Bitter ? You bet. Me prize pedigree hounds had been soundly thrashed by a remote control carcass wearing a nappy and a collection of bones on leads. Work was going to be a nightmare. I had foolishly disclosed to friend ( via text on the day) of my intentions to enter the competition. He wouldn't remember though........
He wouldn't remember so much that he and colleagues had cleared space on the office wall for the rosettes....
Workmate
" Wheres' the rosettes then mate?"
Me
"Oh they uh didn't sort of give them out to save the enviroment sort of thing"
Workmate
"They lost didn't they ?"
Me
"No way"
Workmate
"They didn't get ANY rosette did they?"
Me
"YES..........I mean no"
Monty remains embarassed. Lewis got to lick the contents of the dishwasher.
NEXT TIME:
"Under the knife"
