Monday, 11 March 2013

Owen and Haatchi, winners of the Crufts 2013 "Friends For Life" award

I'm pretty sure no one who was at Crufts yesterday when the "Friends For LIfe" award was presented - or who watched the event on TV - managed to get through it without blubbing. Owen and Haatchi were one of five pairs of finalists, and they received a whopping 52% of the public vote.

The extremely popular winner of Best in Show was Jilly, a Basset Griffon Vendeen. I've met a few members of this breed of hunting dog over the years and they're just as adorable as their relative, the Basset Hound.

Anyone seeking to settle in this country should be made to prove that they're as soppy about dogs as the indigenous population.


  1. I write to you from deep within the confines of the quantified self space, a benighted region where the diurnal cycle of lies and refutations is played out by dessicated souls untouched by any grace. Or almost any grace. One of our number, Toby Stevens, has a chocolate labrador who produced a litter what feels like about six weeks ago. And ever since, gradually, imperceptibly, the day has started not with the traditional search for the latest lie but with a quick check on #pupdate to see how they're all doing. The puppies are leaving home soon and the brief rays of humanity will once again be eclipsed by clouds of mendacity. But just for a while there, just for a while ... there was grace.

    1. Wonderful photos - no wonder we're so daft about dogs. One can't imagine anyone unpleasant wanting to own a chocolate labrador.

  2. A very perceptive neighbour was talking to me once about that awful experience we must all have had when discord breaks out in even the best of families, the children are at war over some imperceptible slight, the parents join in, trying to help, trying to bring light, and make it all worse and they end up arguing and it's his fault or her fault and previously unsuspected wells of resentment suddenly surge to the surface and everything everyone says comes out wrong and you end up literally unable to say anything without starting another idiotic argument, there is a taut emotional logjam, a roadblock that simply can't be untangled.

    Unless there's a spaniel.

    Dopy, it sits there in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by intransigent warriors in a pointless conflict no-one predicted or wanted, and one of them pats the dog, Truro. One of them says Truro is hungry or wants to go for a walk. There, there, Truro, good dog, Truro, soon have you out on the common, d'you want Emily to come with us, Emily's your best friend isn't she, you like it when Emily takes you for a walk, ...

    A spaniel can be a good way to get the traffic flowing again. What else could be so efficacious a pressure release valve?

    1. I suspect that cats, on the other hand, cause more rifts than they heal, because they're smug, tend to take sides, and don't generally cause the release of endorphins in males.

      I'm sure there's a large research grant somewhere in this topic.