A Torturous Journey

Dogging tonight may take place amidst thunder and lightning according to the forecast, interspersed with sunny spells. Sounds entertaining. I will pack a sun hat and some rubber soled wellies along with my new Sochi 2014 t-shirt which has finally arrived.

It was a torturous journey. It’s taken months. Then last week the shirts got seized at customs as they arrived from Moscow. Seized that is by people intent on making even more money out of us. The delivery cost from Russia had doubled the price of the shirts as it was. Now they were asking for £42 to release them from customs. This apparently is made up of search fees, admin charges and forward postage. I refused to pay and the company ‘contracted’ by customs instead said they’d email the Sochi Shop to see if they’d pay. Good luck with that I thought, response time there is about a month per email.

However the next day the package was mysteriously paid for and released to us, so I can ‘dog’ tonight in my new shirt.

(Monday 9^th June)

A Royal Baby?

Apparently Kate Middleton is pregnant. I don't know how they’ve kept that quiet but the secrets out now and this weekend The Sunday Times are going to publish ‘A Prince is Born: Royal Baby Souvenir Issue’, a 16-page collectors' edition. I suppose if Wayne Rooney’s life can warrant multiple biographies then I’m sure an unborn baby is entitled to 16 pages.

I take delivery at work of the trophies for this weekend's dog show. All eleven rather heavy boxes of them. I manage to get them all in the car but the boot might be scraping along the floor as I drive home.

After making it home and unloading the car, I head off to training with the boys. Which takes place in rather hot and sticky conditions with towards the end constant rumblings of thunder overhead.

As we drive home, the thunder starts to be accompanied with a rather impressive light show. Doggo is already getting worried and even more so when, just before we get home, the monsoon arrives, leaving us marooned in the car on the drive for a while before I decide to leg it inside.

Unfortunately Doggo decides there’s no way he’s legging it anywhere in such weather and refuses point blank to move, leaving me remonstrating with him and getting wetter and wetter at the same time. Eventually, after a good shove, he’s out and legging it to the front door as well.

(Monday 22^nd July)

Fashionably Late

I lay in bed, deciding to arrive fashionably late at Lincoln and ad-lib our first course without pre-walking it.

When I arrive an hour late, it is to discover that they have delayed the start by about an hour due to a recent cloud burst. The good news is that I get to walk my first course after all, the bad news is that we now have nothing to do until lunchtime. I should have stayed in bed for another hour.

Perhaps it was a good job we got to walk that course after all. We bag 5th place in what is a qualifier, meaning we're into the final in September, although I’ll wait for written confirmation before I brag too much. We win some dog food and also create a clash with our proposed runs in either the Nottingham or Bristol halfs on the same weekend.

L is out on her bike, a real one. My phone rings and it's L. Oh no, puncture I think. There’s no one there, it’s just one of those heavy breathing calls. I assume she’s pedalling and has called me by accident. At least there's no puncture.

Just after lunch it starts hailing. Doggo is up next but suddenly isn’t looking so keen. Nor am I. Some of the hailstones are as large as marbles, then the thunder and lightning starts.

It subsides and Doggo negotiates an icy course to go clear. No rosette this week though. 17th.

By now it’s a mud bath around car park and a mini Glastonbury around the walkways but the competition rings remain in good condition. MD completes his day with a scrappy clear - 21st, an even scrappier 5 faults and then a complete mess up of a good last run. Which I'll accept was all my fault.

We head home covered in mud but clutching our prized rosette and dog food.

(Saturday 21st April)