This week we are back with Willie Wordsworth who poemised London from Westminster Bridge. Taking him as the start I had a neat link this weekend when I visited friends on the Welsh borders near Ludlow.
We had a long lovely walk on Saturday, stopping briefly by a stone on which is it reputed Wordsworth wrote a poem.
The next day we attended the Ludlow Dog Show in order that the world at large could bask in Dog’s wonderfulness.
Dog and I and dog shows have a bit of a history. One time I tried to create a unique carapace for the mutt only to find the colours I used permanently dyed his coat.
I thought him arresting; the family didn’t and to be fair he did seem a bit embarrassed by the attention.
So it was critical we chose the right category for him. Personally I’d have gone for ‘Fastest Sausage eater – small dog class (let’s face to no one is beating a Labrador)’ but once again the family outvoted me.
This is the result…
Earth has not anything to show more fair
Than Dog, all primped and ready to show
At a country fete in quaint Ludlow.
I know he’s ready as he stands and stares
At the contestants for shaggiest mutt,
Sniffy and aloof in his smooth white coat
Scratching his ear as if to say, ‘it’s not
That hard to be a mess, and win that pot
By being a scruff.’ That’s Dog, he likes to gloat.
Now he’s on; his class of choice – Best Rescue,
Is one he’s ready to embrace and, primed
He looks around, ears up, waiting for his cue
To save the day. But Hero Dog is undermined
By judges who are after cute. They haven’t a clue
These men. A ragbag wins; Dog slumps, resigned.