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As this is my first blog, I really planned to write something spectacular. However, it was just a normal, boring day for my doggies. Me and OH at work (yay - why the human race evolved to THAT as our existence beats me); a bit of a walk; a bit of a game, and the dogs can tick another boring day off their "my parents aren't lotto-winners yet and so we're still latchkey dogs" calendar. That was...until about 30 minutes ago, when Maia heard that most magic of all words..."Bath-time!" (Okay, the more astute of you will realise that the latter is, in fact, two words, albeit hyphenated, but bear with me here...)
Honestly, you think her throat had been cut. The fact that you could smell her coming several moments before she entered a room meant nothing to her. (She apparently thought she smelled great, as was evidenced by her sidling up to my other two dogs and smearing her body in their faces. I'm sure they were as impressed as they looked. Fionn donned his "we are not amused" look and sighed at me. "Really, mother. Do you have to keep letting this thing inside?" Zep actually got up and left the room...which considering he is usually the King of Stink, speaks both about irony and about the need for the aforementioned bath.)
Anyway, my long-suffering OH finally managed to drag the offending wench out from beneath the table and haul her off to said bath. She emerged like a damp but proverbially spring-like lamb, and proceded to bound around the house like she'd been freed from Changi. A blow-dry and an attempted clip later (I got as far as one foot before I decided, hang it, I still have 20 hours before the first show of 2008...I'm sure I'll do a much better job when the pressure is on at, say, 3.00pm tomorrow afternoon when I'm trying to clip Fionn, pack the car, organise some semblance of a picnic dinner, prise the Xbox game consol from OH's hands, and drive down to the CAWA...), she is now fresh as a daisy and looking far more like my darling (ha!) little angel (ha!) and less like a swamp monster from Hell.
Whether I show her tomorrow is now irrelevant. The fact that I've done no training with her in well over two months could see us both laughed from the ring...I attempted to stack her tonight. She sat. Repeatedly. Then, just when I thought she might have remembered what to do, she leapt up at me and licked my face. Sigh. At least she is demonstrably affectionate. Still, I have no one to blame but myself.
As a footnote to the above...said bitch just came in to say hi (aka prod me in the ribs with a nose built like a medieval seige engine). Someone (who shall remain nameless, but who I strongly suspect is also red and hairy) has chewed on her ears, which are now sticky and smushed with tasty sardines.
Setters, eh...
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