On Sunday Richard wanted to drag me to another car show, this time at the Malvern Showground. He had been banging on about the beautiful Malvern Hills for ages so I thought I’d string along and keep him company. The journey there involved a stretch of motorway - something I’d never experienced before in a convertible. It was a bit noisy and, as I was sitting on the front seat, a bit windy. When we arrived there were lots of trade stands and cars to view. I had to be on my best behaviour, remembering a similar car show a year ago when I peed on a metal ‘Jaguar’ sign that was for sale. Apparently you aren’t supposed to do that at these shows.
I was wondering how many more cars we had to look at when things perked up - we were approached and asked to enter a dog show. Now, I’ve had mixed luck at dog shows, but I cast an eye over the opposition and fancied my chances. Rather rudely, Richard had declined to enter me in the ‘sit and stay’ contest, fearing carnage. So I had to make do with an entry in ‘Most Handsome Dog’. Having made sure both ears were pointing in the same direction I trotted around the ring. Richard managed to keep up with me and didn’t do anything idiotic and I pulled out all the stops for the judge, a lanky, studious looking fellow. I guessed that ‘cute’ wouldn’t cut it for him, so I went for a look that said ‘I’m too good to be here really, but decided to do it as a treat for the audience’.
It must have worked as his assistant awarded me a lovely green rosette which I wore all the way home. Before we left I had half a scotch egg which was decidedly average.
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