Cut Out The Bubbly

I was a bit disappointed to wake up this morning because I was in the middle of a rather wonderful dream involving posh gardens and French Knickers. This made it all the harder to drag myself out of bed, neglecting the tempting sight of L, in favour of a second day in a row with my unweaving dog at the dog show. Bizarrely despite all the wine, I have no hangover.

Yesterday there was one really difficult course, today there are two. This upsets a lot of people who don't like being challenged and just come for an easy day out. Even I admit though that one of them was a little beyond the pale. When we run it we make one mistake and pick up 5 faults (not on the weaves!) and also time faults for being 1.5 seconds over the time limit. Incredibly halfway through the class this puts us third; there was only one clear round at that point. The fact that the course is a little too tough is proven really by the fact that there are only 4 clear rounds out of 133. It's odd though how many places we slide down the order late in the day. Either the best dogs wait till last, as usual, or possibly just handlers with multiple dogs learn the course better with each run. We end up 15th and it is our only rosette of the weekend.

L texts to say that she can remember how many bacon butties we had last night but not how many bottles of free wine. I best not tell her then. She blames the glass of champagne that we started the evening with for her hangover. Yes, next time we shall cut out the bubbly.

Doggo and I finally get a clear on an easier course but it isn't as satisfying as the 15th place on the course from hell.

We bump into the woman who bred Doggo and despite my protests she continues talking to me even as we are on the start line of our last event. I'm sure this puts me off and we mess up the weaves again.

It was so hot yesterday that today I even brave it in shorts. Not sure if this is a good move or not. Yesterday I just had sunburn on my neck and arms. Today my legs burn too.

After the show, I retire to the pub with my parents. My Dad gets there first and gets to the bar before I do and orders me a pint of Bass. That wouldn't have been my call. This means we have to stop for a second so that I can sample the Cocker Hoop, which isn't bad.

Then home and L has done a Sunday lunch. Wonderfully cooked brisket with Yorkshire pub.

We're both gagging for sex after going without since Friday night so we plan an early night. I'm tempted to ask L to dress as she did the previous night but in the end events over take me and in my haste, I forget to ask.

Don't think L will want to know this but I work my alcohol units out at 40 for the week.