I had to cancel my autist musicians and classes of English that evening.
As is habitual with French doctors, I was prescribed a cocktail of very strong drugs, with codeine, steroids and antihistamines all in there somewhere with the antibiotics.
I usually visit the doctor, hear the diagnosis and then chuck the drugs, but I didnt dare this time because I have a jazz workshop Saturday afternoon.
Steroids make me speedy with an underlying sort of mad anger, and codeine plus anti histamines put me to sleep. The last two days have felt a bit like a fairground ride.
The rival chemicals were battling it out last night, with steroids emerging the wakeful winner up to 4.30 am, and then the soporifics won...so I slept through my alarm at 5.30 am.
I just managed to get to the pistage trials in time to register at 7.15 am, but did not have time to give Porridge the run that she needed before her brevet.
I got to the start and sent her off into a damp field of long grass and the temptation was too much. She charged off into the dawn somersaulting and rolling with delight, totally out of control.
And then she found the pig manure.
Porridge... THERE ARE NO BEARS IN BRITTANY... really... disguise is not necessary.
So no shiny cup today. Maybe another time. A girl can dream, cant she?
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12 comments:
Oh, Porridge! Not the pig poo again!! I'm sorry your hopes for the cup were dashed, and poor you the laryngitis sounds terrible. I hope you're feeling better and not too disappointed - I'd say it was quite an achievement doing all that training either way, and she is definitely a winner!
daisy what a sweetheart you are.
Yes it is the taking part that matters...and working as a team with your dog is a great pleasure when it works! Stll this time it was my fault and circumstance combined...
Now off to go and mime in my jazz workshop with my beloved Cole Porter
Not convinced by vet's bear avoidance theory. One of Sky's memorable feats was rolling in flattened dead fish. Surely bears eat fish? Or do bears only eat fresh salmon?
And she doesn't even look all that contrite.
Oh, well. There's still the "love" part, right?
I hope you're feeling better!
She looks happier with the dog-perfume.
Poor Porridge. Poor Porridge-handler. But next time. Hope the throat gets better.
Bears? Maizy loves fox shit. And goose shit. And cow shit (when she's not eating it). And horse shit (ditto). And corpses. Fish, flesh or fowl. She knows she's not supposed to. She knows I will be incandescent with rage. She knows she'll be tied to the fence and doused with cold water and washing-up liquid. Yet still she does it, with a white-rimmed ascance glare of defiance as she carefully places the side of her neck in the middle of the ordure and then wriggles, wriggles, wriggles.
Bloody dogs.
What is it about manure that dogs love so much!
Never mind about the cup- maybe next year.
Hope you are feeling better, & the meds all do their work!
My Yorkie took second prize in an AKC event in NY. He came in second, got his ribbon AND I WAS DEVASTATED we didn't get first place. The dog didn't care but what do they know?
Porridge in the pig poo! (Sorry - I just enjoy the use of alliteration!)
I do sympathsize with the dashed hopes and hope you are feeling better. Besides, it always better to come from behind. Next time will Porridge's cup!
I hope that Cole Porter heard you in good voice. Laryngitis is the teacher's maladie de choix, I'm afraid.
She looks a bit like a beautiful polar bear herself!
Bad luck girls, hope the laryngitis is better now.
Pig poo must be like an aphrodisiac to your dog.
Mine loses it over deer poo.
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