So I was about to jump in the back of the Mini after my latest agility competition adventure, when two passing - and agreeably muddy - mountain bikers, father and son, clocked my handsome self and stopped by for a chat with Gail.
Turns out they have a two year old foxy, from Granddach Kennels like me, and had observed that I was the spit of their wee fellow, Bob. As was confirmed when father asked son to show us Bob's picture on his iPhone.
Then father gave me a nice belly rub and complimented me on my lean and muscular physique (yes really), while Gail looked proudly on. To be honest, I was quite pleased at this point not to be wearing my birthday jumper, as these mountain bikers just possibly might not have recognised said sweater for the manly garment that you and I know it to be…
Oh and did I mention I won two more rosettes at the agility show?
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