When I was a tiny wee pup, it was determined that I would not be a show dog. Something to do with the set of my tail or the shape of my head being wrong, I believe.
Now we are not in this household virulently anti-dog show or anything. I can promise you, Gail spent many hours in front of the telly this weekend transfixed by Crufts, trying to figure out what on earth the judges are looking for, and muttering things like "but surely that labrador that came
second was a bit fat", and "I just can't imagine why the gorgeous Samoyed didn't get placed....."
But I do know I am more than happy to be able to spend my sunny spring Sunday afternoons gallivanting by the River Dee with sound of salmon plopping away in the background, and not a care in the world.
PS Gail is ridiculously pleased that she 'caught' a salmon leaping in the final photo (top left). You're right, it is not very impressive but, to keep the peace, I decided to humour her and show you anyway.
Bertie the Diplomat.
Me-Now-Views; Less Speak More Peek
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