THE ADVENTURES OF SMITH & OZANNE - PAM THE PLOUGHMAN Here we go again! Two weeks of 'girls together' in the land of Big Skies and Dog Shows. Pam and I have our annual away time in North Yorkshire. I decide to take my new car so Mr Morgan is out, and it's an all-girls' party – Delphi the ESS, Carys the Welshie, and Riva the baby Cocker. New car is wonderful – Weymouth to East Lutton in five and three-quarter hours (with three dog stops). It was late in the day, not much traffic for once, excellent! Our first show is Darlington at Newby Hall near Ripon. Our travelling Madge is programmed and off we go. Lovely dry weather after all the rain they've had up here for weeks. Do we need boots? No – just sandals. What idiots!! All goes well until three miles from the venue, when we join a queue of cars. First gear, stop – start. Forty five minutes later we are in a muddy field, sliding around, watching dogs and owners picking their way around muddy, slimy wodges of sodden earth. Clarty, as they say up here! Oh dear – no Wellies, Pam!! Never mind, write off the shoes. Off we trudge through twelve inch deep mud, holding hands to try and stay upright. On the way back to get the dogs, see CLEVER person with plastic carrier bags tied round feet. When we get to the car, I search for same. End up with two Duty Free bags duly turned into shoe covers! Well – it works! So spend entire day in my designer Duty Free shoes, and not without comment! This is the only time I have been complimented on my footwear by a judge. Delphi comes third out of a good class of puppies, Carys lets the side down by hopping about in the mud. Sadly, Mother has gone do-lally and is in hospital. 'Pam has a new puppy' I tell her, 'a Cocker spaniel' 'What colour? Black?' 'No, a blue roan' Five minutes later. 'Who has a new puppy?' asks Mum. 'Pam' I say. 'What colour? Is it a black one?' I say 'No, a blue roan'. This happens twice more. Later in our conversation she asks me why Pam has got so many puppies!! I try to explain that there is only one, but to no avail. Riva has multiplied. By this time next year Pam may well have hundreds of Cocker spaniel puppies! On our next visit to the hospital the lady in the bed opposite Mum (who has previously appeared catatonic) suddenly sits bolt upright and points imperiously at Pam. 'Come over here, I want to speak to you!' 'Me??' Pam visibly quivers, and walks tentatively over to the lady, who grabs her by the arm. 'You must be the Champion Ploughman!' she cries 'I want you to tell me all about it!' Pam is imprisoned in her grip, trying hard not to giggle. 'No, no,' I say 'The Champion Ploughman is my nephew' (A strapping, six foot, 31 year old). The lady glares at me for interfering and Pam is left for the rest of the visit attempting to sound like the world class farmer she patently isn't! When we finally escape, we manage only a few yards down the corridor before collapsing in a heap with laughter. The nurses stare at us as we try to walk away with some dignity. I annoy Pam for the whole of the next week, by referring to her as 'Pam the Ploughman' at every opportunity! Driffield Champ. was our other show. At last, some lovely sunny weather and a great venue – Wetherby Racecourse. We met lots of people we knew, including Jane Watchorn who was there with her Goldie, and John Jackson, looking very dapper in his designer hat as he judged the Labradors. We were invited to lunch in the caravan park by an ESS exhibitor. All very pleasant. Delphi came third, unfortunately out of three, so that was a disappointment; but all came good in the Puppy Stakes, where she came second in a really big class. That's better! We went back to the house to enjoy the rest of our stay (as best we could, considering Mother's predicament). I blew all the cobwebs away by going horse-riding (Yes!!) with the girl next door. Picture to prove it! Pam stocked up on all the things she insists she can't find in Guernsey; in fact Mr Morrison is probably still re-stocking the local store! On Tuesday, I pack the car. It's not a big car, and it's soon full up. 'OK, Pam' I say. 'It's all in'. Pam is still upstairs. She comes down with more bags, then goes back for more. Then she goes back for yet more – it's never-ending! 'This just will not go in! You'll have to leave some behind!' But she doesn't! Pam travels home surrounded by her acquisitions, and every time we stop and she opens the door, something falls out. I have to pack her back in before I can drive off! After a long slog of a drive in heavy traffic, we finally board the ferry and duly arrive home. The next morning Pam phones me in some distress. 'What's the matter?' I ask. 'I've run out of dog food!! Lynn Ozanne |
(The webmaster's choice of features taken from the club newsletter.) |
