Home » Plants & Animals » Irish Wolfhounds » How I Survived my First Dog Show

How I Survived my First Dog Show

© Donna Eliassen

Wrong! Some prankster decided to switch on the oval sprinkler system, throwing the entire event into chaos. I made a quick grab for the handbags, the video, and the munchkin, and dragged them all out of the way. The sprinkler near us thoroughly drenched Red, who becoming displeased with this unexpected shower, tried to get away and tangled his back leg up in the leash in the process. Irish Wolfhounds are powerful animals, and we wrestled a bit before I managed to free him. The munchkin thought this was a delightful game and started prancing around the dogs like a nutcase. Camille, who never likes a fuss at the best of times, panicked and upset the water bucket, successfully drenching the mattress she was sharing with another bitch. This distressed Camille even further, so much so that she required to empty her bowels immediately. This required a mad rush to find the little poo pouches and scoop it up before she stepped in it, which she did anyway. Then I had to go and empty the pouch in the little “bins” provided on the grounds.

“Stay here!” I instructed the munchkin, who promptly ran off in the other direction. My screams fell on deaf ears. Apparently, we were now playing hide and seek. When I returned, the munchkin then required to go to the bathroom, an impossibility seeing as there was nobody to mind the dogs or the belongings. “But mummy, I have to go now!” She insisted, crossing her legs and pleading with a pained expression. We were a long way from any restroom, but behind us where the cars were parked was a small patch of bush. That would have to do. I quickly dashed her over to the privacy of a large gum tree, let her do her stuff, then bolted back to the dogs, only to discover that the largest one had somehow manage to pull the star-picket, to which his leash was attached, out of the ground and was heading for a sexy little Afghan he’d had his eye on.

“Come back!” I hollered after him. “Stay here!” I yelled to the munchkin. “Stop that!” I yelled at Camille, who once again had found it necessary to relieve her bowels. “Wheee!” squealed the munchkin, “this is fun!”

I had his amorous Lordship securely tethered again just in time for the return of the breeder’s other handler, who barked, without so much as a hello, “What the hell have you done with the water bucket? Are you stupid? These dogs are thirsty! You’re supposed to be watching the dogs! Not just sitting there having a nice time!”