Owner Training

Janet ( with all legs Ruby) and me (with the benign William) went to our first dog training class this evening, and the experience lends itself wonderfully for today's blog entry.

There were two "experts"on hand to give us direction and support. One, middle aged and rather morose, had a small psychotic toy dog, who surprisingly savaged the intimidating Ruby with several hysterical bites up the arse as soon as we had entered the hall- which was a little worrying in itself!. The other "senior" teacher looked and sounded in the latter stages of left ventricular heart failure to me, but was friendly enough in a wheezy,wet, critically ill sort of way, and he soon had the 18 dogs and owners marching up and down the village hall, weaving in and out of each other and showing the megre audience of hangers on that it is the pet owners that need all the training rather than the dogs.

Apart from the the 6 die hard regulars, most of us were newbies and I was pleased that Ruby and William didn't show themselves up and for that matter nor did me and Janet, and at least we could have a laugh at certain situations some of the over zelous members found themselves in. One rather large guy with clunky jewelry, a paroxide girlfriend and a dog called satan (or was the girlfriend called Satan?) spent most of the time yelling so loudly at his pet when he did anything "wrong", that William kept sitting down in surprise to watch and listen! with a shocked kindo of interest.

The whole experience was 2£- a bargin for an interesting night out.

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