(October 21st, 2001):
I've always enjoyed an excursion, but this one truly takes the cake. Guess my folks were excited, too, 'cause Daddy didn't even grumble about having to get up early to drive to Dortmund.
We piled into the car and two hours later the percentage of cars on the Autobahn containing a canine was definitely rising. But when Daddy bought the tickets and we entered the first big hall, I got the message: DOG SHOW!!!! The German Montgomery!
Six thousand not counting the visitors like us. Can you imagine what that does to a doggie's senses? The smell, the sound, the sight of 6000 kindred spirits. Well, I'm not so sure about the kindredness of that white mass of mutt – some kind of enormous bulldog (maybe they should have left part of the bull with the bovines). And you should have seen the standard poodle with the front end braided and the entire back end shaved! But those fabulous Irish! The cool, calm and collected Irish Wolfhound chieftains; pixie-faced red-haired Irish Terrier imps; curly Kerry Blue cousins. Best of all my very own Whirling Wheaten Leprechauns.
Paddy and Melba from Hamburg were already at the Wheaten ring when we arrived, soon to be joined by Tommy from Holland.
While our folks chatted as if they'd known each other for years, we kids checked each other out under the bistro table. I wouldn't mind setting up a commune with all of them.
Between you and me, I think Tommy might have a bit of a crush on me; he let me steal all his biscuits out of Edith's basket. We passed out some of Miz Weazie's kookies we'd been saving just for the occasion, but Tommy just stared at me dreamily while I gobbled down his share.
I found my father immediately, lyingnext to the ring with eyeshades on. Hello? A stud like that with eyeshades? Does he think he's Elvis? His dad explained that Cheerful Challenger got too distracted by the pretty lady Wheaties and needed his beauty rest before the competition. He took them off to say hello to me, however.
My mother couldn't come, 'cause she was besieged with my new half-brothers and sisters. Aunt Queen Anne, was there, though, and looked quite pretty in the ring. I wonder if I would have a chance. Bite your tongue, Gráinne, says Mum.
To get my thoughts off the honours I could win, being a princess and all, they took me shopping in the next hall: chock full of stands and booths with torture equipment, cutsie stuff for Mum and FOOD in all shapes and flavours, including bully sticks.
Buster joined us for a last round of Wheaten List Family photos before we all headed in different directions for home, promising to find a place where we can spend a weekend together off leash. Wouldn't that be Paradise? Five Wheatens and no leashes!
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