Grounded

I hobble into work and crawl up the stairs. Both my calves ache, which is possibly a good sign. Two calves aching rather than just my damaged one could, I suppose, mean that I’m now injured in both legs or it could just be that it’s been a while since I did such a long race on zero training. Well, unless you count the 4Paws run, I've not ran at all since Reading a fortnight ago.

Apparently a dog that was at the same agility show as me on Good Friday has contracted parvovirus. It’s a highly contagious disease but is covered by a dog’s annual vaccination, so the boys should be fine. Scratching isn’t a symptom. The Kennel Club has a rule that states that any dogs who may have come into contact with an infectious disease cannot compete for 21 days. So that would rule the boys out of competing this weekend.

It’s the word ‘may’ that is contentious. There were probably around a thousand dogs at that show and the infected one was a puppy who stayed away from the competition areas. In the absence of a more definitive definition from the powers that be a lynchmob is forming to await anyone who was at that show and who attempts to attend another one within 21 days.

L won't be happy if we have to stay at home, as she plans to be glossing the bedroom. One hair on that and we’ll all be in the doghouse.

I decide that in the interests of global peace in the dog world it is best not to attend training tonight. Instead as it’s been dry all day with rain forecast for tomorrow, I cut the grass and sow some grass seed. Hopefully this is perfect timing. Then I collect L from her rave up this evening, something called ‘Dreamboats & Petticoats’. I didn’t get past the title but I’m sure it was very good.

(Monday 16th April)