Abandoned

I’ve a slight hangover after last night but I’m still on duty at the dog show by 7.45am. As my club is running the show it’s my job to manage one of the competition rings all day.

In between doing this, I also have to compete with Doggo. Perhaps I should blame my slight over indulgence for the reason I send Doggo towards the wrong obstacle on his first course. What his excuse is for messing up the second course I don’t know, he isn’t saying but I'm sure it was all his own doing. At least we eventually went clear in our third event.

Organisation wise the show goes well, that is until I finish the day setting up an evil looking course that will be first up for some poor souls in the morning. Working from the judge’s course plan (on paper), it just doesn’t look feasible and as the judge won’t actually be here until tomorrow, we just do the best we can and he’ll have to finish it himself in the morning. Thankfully I’m managing a different ring tomorrow. I escape and head for home.

Bradley shows some heroics on Mont Ventoux but eventually, only a couple of kilometres from the top, he got dropped by Lance Armstrong and some of the other top riders, so his thoughts of grabbing third turn to dust but he did enough to hang on to fourth place overall by a mere three seconds.

L cooks and we open the wine. Son is out all night at a 17th birthday party on Bestwood Park whilst Daughter is also out partying; she’s not coming home either. So we've been abandoned and it’s wonderful, blissfully quiet, even the dogs are calm, crashed out, fast asleep. Game on.