Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

In the spirit of investigative journalism that toppled the Nixon administration and revealed Freddie Starr's dietary habits, Diary Of An Obo proudly exposes the nether world of the 'Fun Dog Show'. Names and locations won't be revealed, as the event was in aid of a local dog charity but all other details are somewhere near to the truth......

Where else but in Britain could you witness such an early spring gathering: the desperation for the sun to put in an appearance, even if only for a few minutes; the barely edible barbeque food; the collection for poor Bonzo's operation (apparently something of a local celebrity); the agility and fantastic behaviour exhibition, complete with sanctimonious commentary that left any owner with a less than perfectly behaved dog feeling like the sh1t on the announcer's shoes; the sh1t on my shoes; the incessant feeding of treats to other people's dogs, together with futile attempts to dissuade the little feeders; the dog obsessives, if I hear anyone say just one more time that they like dogs better than people...... The event wasn't even licensed, for crying out loud!

Onwards to the main event. Waggiest Tail, Most Beautiful Eyes, Best Trick are all staples of the unofficial dog show. However, despite the dog world's governing body, The Kennel Club, washing its hands of such lowly gatherings, pedigree dogs swept the board. The announcer had informed us earlier that mongrels outnumber any proper breed but you wouldn't have known it from the distribution of prizes. Surely any official with half a brain cell, at a dog charity that depends on the good will of the general public, would have had a word with the judge to remind them that it wasn't Crufts. But no, 'and the winner is the Staffie, the Collie, the Poodle, the Long Coated Alsatian'......

Heart string tugging came next with Best Veteran and Best Rescue Dog; the shaggy dog story coming to the fore as the prized rosette and certificate depended on how old the dog was or how horrific the poor mutt's former circumstances were. Twenty one my foot and poor Barbie had nothing worse to contend with in her past than an old man who fed her too much!

Our last class came round, Prettiest Dog. They wouldn't send us home with nothing, would they? After an age of deliberation, fourth, third and second were awarded. The judge had described Barbie as 'absolutely gorgeous' on her parade round, so I was getting ready to accept the award. 'And the winner is over there to the right......' 'Here we go, we've won', I thought. '......the Pyrenean Mountain Dog'. Deflated, we trudged away to lick our wounds and try to raise poor Barbie's spirits.

Of course all of this bile has been let because Barbie didn't win anything. It was a cheerful community event and we had a good time, outdoors on a Sunday afternoon. What a carve up though!