dog pimps

we have had a whale of a time today. this morning we went to an event called 'reach the beach' which was for rescued hounds. there must have been 200 or more dogs, mostly greyhounds, on the beach at west wittering, together with a motley crew of people. my peeps were, needless to say, more motley than most.

my boy and himself did not want to reach the beach. this is not because they dislike beaches. in fact we spend a lot of time on beaches. nor because they dislike greyhounds. they love all types of dog. what put them off was the thought of the people that of necessity came with the greyhounds. herself told them they were a pair of trolls and that they never did anything as a family. she said my boy could have marbles if he was good (marbles are saved up to buy things) and she told himself that if he didn't behave he would get pegs put in his beard. i think my boy came off best from this.

we arrived at west wittering and were given a doggy bag (for once a real doggy bag with a pigs ear and some home made cookie for me!) and then made our way to join the hounds. there were loads of them! and they were all much bigger and much less hairy than me. i felt a bit of a gatecrasher to be honest, although there were other lurchers too. but i was by far the hairiest.

there were competitions - the bonio and spoon, the best dressed dog, the dog that could wade furthest into the sea (herself went in up to her waist getting her trousers and t shirt soaked but i feel i let the side down a bit by swimming - i like swimming but it doesn't count as wading). there was also a race which was most impressive. the owners had to keep the dogs on the lead. most of the dogs there were ex-racing greyhounds. you don't need a phd to realise that greyhounds run a lot faster than people, especially when they are racing. people fell like ninepins. luckily for my peeps the only one who would remotely be able to race was my boy and he had fallen off a climbing frame yesterday so was excused. herself was mighty relieved once she saw the race that she had not coerced him into entering.

we all lined up for a picture. we were in the back row so i had to undergo the ignominy of being picked up. i quite like being hugged but being picked up in front of all those people was a bit embarrassing.

later on some people came to visit. they are thinking of adopting a lurcher from the kennels where i go for my holidays. he is called ronnie (the lurcher that is). they sat in the garden with the peeps and had some stuff called pimms out of a jug. herself started telling them about how they had found my breeder and they knew when my birthday was and stuff like that. she did this from my tattoo in my ear.

just then my boy piped up. "is a breeder like a dog pimp?" "er, lovey," said herself, "can i explain dog breeding to you later?" "so how does the breeder make the dogs have sex?" said my boy. "can we talk about this a bit later, sweetie?" said herself, rather nervously. they have not known these people all that long and herself was not sure how they would take the dog pimp thing. "i mean, do they shut them in a room and force them to have sex?" "lovey, can we talk about this later?" said herself, now through rather gritted teeth. "do they give them bits of cheese if they have sex?" carried on my boy. "i think the dogs quite like having sex" said herself, relenting a bit, "but i will explain it all later."

luckily at that point i realised intervention was needed and rolled on my back to be tickled. alas my days of having sex are over. they have chopped off my bits. admittedly this was after the bit of trouble with my prostate which led to me peeing on the sofa. i have worked out that if i make enough fuss about being groomed i get a bit of cheese for that. its not quite the same but still...