Sump Oil and Fox Poo

"What are you guys doing home?" I hear you ask. "Left the Building" wasn't it? Ah well. Let's just say that within minutes of arriving at the camping field (which had been up till the day before had been grazing for horses) I had found some horse poo to roll in. 15-love. Not too noxious. Then within an hour we'd found the long-grass next door, and in it some seriously sticky wet fox poo. Ahhhhh all up me back. 30-love. And now the fellow campers are starting to make comments like "Very sweet dog, son, but it don't half whiff!"

Totally hot day, so I then took shelter under an ancient Citroen Ami 6, little knowing (or caring) that it had a leaky sump, so I came out with gobs of black sump oil on my back. Advantage Deefer. Now nobody will let me near their tent, or even their scuzzy camping jeans.

I asked Meggie why she's not joining me in the farmyard frolic. Lady Megan puts on her hoity toity voice and says "My Dear.... One does not stroll through the perfume store trying on all these samplers willy-nilly (do we Diamond?). One ends up smelling like a tart's boudoir" One of the campers actually said "Turkish wrestlers armpit" which sounds even more exotic. Megan goes on... "One is selctive, and chooses just the right scent for the occasion. I found Fox 2005 to be a very good year". I prefer ASBO 2007. Reminds me of that jollop the Sailing Barge boys use to protect their sails. Was probably even better when it had horse-pee in it.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I am driven home this morning (45:15), dumped in the sink (45:30), shampoo'd to within an inch of my life (Deuce), towelled down (Advantage Dad), and presented back to the camp white and fluffy (Game to Dad). This is considered cheating by the camping afficionadoes - you're meant to tough it out, skanky dogs in the tent an' all

As for horses. Aren't they a gas! Like big shuffly, snorting dogs. Great to race up and down the next field to and shout at (till you get recalled and told to shut up). Other fun featues of this farm. Chooks in a big fox proof run (great to run up and down the next ...etc). The farm's cavalier spaniels (Great to race up and ...etc). An old scuzzy sheeps fleece chucked onto a compost heap.

Westie Bliss

Right. Never mind Game to Dad. Now to plan my revenge. White fluffy pup plus farm.... What say you?

Deefs