Introducing Velvet

Velvet (Taevas Black Velvet at Grafmax) came to stay at the end of September and is now 14 weeks old. She's probably the cutest and cleverest dobe puppy since Nina and Satchmo! She's our next showgirl and is destined for Satchmo's girlfriend in a couple of years. Gets on well with mother-in-law (sensible girl), and wants to get on well with Satchmo, but he's having none of it. He's devastated at not being my baby any more. He'll change his tune when she gets hormones...

The Seven Signs of Spring

1.       At 4.00am you’re woken by a blackbird and a sparrow, politely taking turns to sing

2.       At 4.30am you’re woken again by sun filtering through the curtains

3.       At 5.00am you’re driven mad by  the cooing of a wood pigeon

4.       At 5.30am a crow puts on Doc Martens and stomps up one pitch of the roof, down the other and starts banging loudly on the bathroom Velux (why?)

5.       At 6.00am you’re enchanted by the sound of skylarks singing on the wing

6.       At 6.30am you’re thrilled by hearing a cuckoo

7.       At 7.00am you get up, go downstairs and find a stomach full of yoiked up grass on the breakfast room floor

Ah, the joys of spring!

A sunny race day in 2003

The spring of 2003 was warm and sunny to a rare degree. Most of March had been lovely and it was continuing into April. Walking the dogs was wonderful. The ground was drier than in many a summer, it was warm enough for long walks in short sleeves, and it was too early in the year to encounter cattle. Bliss.

The MG racing season started, as usual, in March. Gerry had been working on the car and wasn’t sure how it was going to perform. As always, he was anxious about how his blood pressure would fare when he went for his medical, but it was OK and he got his racing licence once again.

The MGOC had 14 races in the season, and Gerry usually also competed in the MG Car Club’s Silverstone weekend in July, largely because his firm held a hospitality weekend there. This year he decided to do a couple of extra MGCC races, the first being on 5 April. He usually raced under number 24, but for the MGCC he had to change it to number 7. Might have been thought lucky as it’s my birthday.

He set off early as usual on 5th. Another lovely day. He rang me during the morning to say practice had gone well, he was really pleased with how the car was running and the lads were now all sat in the sun together chatting. As usual, he would have been going as brown as a berry as the day went on. How brilliant to be getting a tan in the UK in early April! I asked if he knew his position on the starting grid, but he didn’t yet. “Ring me back when you know it.” Even by his own standards, Gerry was fairly buzzing. He said he had almost called me earlier just to blow me a kiss. I asked him to do it now. He blew me a kiss down the phone and told me he loved me. We were both laughing.

He rang back later and said he was in third place in his class and thought he had a good chance of getting past the person in front to finish second.

The race started around four on the shorter national circuit. By the last lap, Gerry had passed the person in front as he had predicted and was in second place in his class – his best placing ever. He must have been really excited. They came round the right-hand corner at Copse for the last time and down towards the gentle curve of Maggots before the next right-hand corner. The video footage shows four cars dicing for position towards Maggots, followed by a single car, followed by Gerry. Just before Maggots, he must have felt faint; he started to pull off to the left and changed down to third gear. The car hit the wall gently and ran along losing speed for about 50 yards, clipping the wall twice more before coming to a halt by a marshals’ post. Gerry was unconscious before the car stopped. The marshal realised this as soon as he got to the car and raised a hand to indicate medical help was needed. The medical team were only a few yards away, by Copse, and the silver Audi was there in around a minute, closely followed by a medical van. The doctor could see at once that Gerry was blue and unconscious. He had no pulse. At this stage, there was no telling whether there were accident injuries or whether the accident was the result of a heart attack. Either way, they had a few minutes to re-establish heart function before oxygen deprivation would cause brain damage. The doctor got in the passenger door, administered oxygen and began heart massage. They needed to get him out of the confined space of the car before they could do anything more. A spine board was brought in case of injury and, before they got Gerry out, marshals held sheeting up to deter sightseers. Gerry was pulled out of the door – they were all surprised at how tall he was – and laid on the spine board. By this time the defibrillator was ready. It was used three times – the video footage shows everyone sharply standing back each time. He was given several shots of epinephrine; a text-book resuscitation exercise. It was less than ten minutes between the heart attack and the medical team taking Gerry to the medical centre, and his heartbeat had been re-established by then. The team thought his chances of recovery were good. However, resuscitation had taken too long. Also, the excitement of racing probably meant his brain was using oxygen faster than normal and needed more than his restarted heart could supply.

The medics didn’t know it, but he was already gone. Whatever made him Gerry Thorn – that funny, vibrant, witty, warm, loving and very special man – was already dead. His body, though, lingered for three more weeks.

Secret Diary of Satchmo Thorn - episode 1

So many people have asked me if Satchmo was going to start a diary now that the lovely Maxie won't be writing his any more. For quite a while I said I didn't think so, as I didn't see Satchmo as the same kind of contemplative philosopher as Max. However, I decided to give him a go on Crufts day, so I showed him how to use an iPad (I think only Max could use a pencil without an opposable thumb) and here's the first result.

Sunday 10 March 2013

Woke up this morning and thought, ‘My Mum loves me.’ Then I thought, ‘I wonder if we’ll go for a really nice walk today.’ Then I remembered that Mum trimmed my whiskers and filed my nails yesterday and I felt a bit suspicious. Then I thought, ‘Hang on a sec, it’s still dark o’clock, what am I doing awake and thinking thoughts?’ So I went back to sleep.

It didn’t seem like 5 mins later when Mum came in and woke us up. It was still dark. What’s all that about? Still, she gave us our brekkie and tummy said shut up and be grateful. So I did.

Then what do you think she did, but wash me? At dark o’clock in the morning! What’s the world coming to? Then I was really, really suspicious, I can tell you. Anyway, then Ali and Iain arrived and so did Natasha, so I thought, ‘Brill, I’ll be going for a walk in the dark with Kiki and Pippi.’ But they put me in Iain’s car – no sign of the fillies – and we drove for ages. This was looking more and more like a day at one of those dog show things.

And it was, but much bigger and noisier. I got the chance to sniff and pee about 20 times on the way from the car. Brill. I’ve developed this technique of making my bum look as though I want a poo and then I get to spend far more time sniffing around where all the fillies have been. (Snigger.)

Mum’s got this new regime at shows that makes Saddam Hussein look like a lollipop lady. Absolutely no liver cake unless I’m standing nicely. Well, two can play at that game. I stood like a rock while we were practising and then she tried to make me step forward. Well, I’m not falling for that one. Trick questions and all that. I stayed put and she had to move my back legs instead.

We did a bit of practice and I was just getting a taste for the liver cake when she put me on the bloody bench and shut me in. It’s not on for a dog of my personal stature you know. I don’t do sitting and standing still anyway. So I lay down and made my displeasure known by puffing my cheeks out very ostentatiously. Then I spoilt the whole effect by falling asleep.

Anyway, a bit later, Mum got me off the bench and ran about with me a bit and then we were in the ring. I love being with lots of dobies. Bit disappointed to find they were all blokes though. The chap I think they call the judge (always makes me feel as though I'm being accused of something) was a rather smart chap in a suit who stood and looked at me for ages. I could only see him out of the corner of my eye ‘cos I was focused on the liver cake – blink and you miss a bit. However, he came back later and looked very admiring as I ran round the ring with Mum. Then he called us out and made us stand at the front of the line. I don't really know what that means, but it's usually good for plenty of liver cake and chin chuckles, so it's pretty good by me. Mum was clearly extremely pleased with me. Seemed much like any other dog show to me except more dobie boys and a bigger ring, but lots of people made a fuss of me and I can stand any amount of that, so I just made sure my chin was on their hands at all times and got no end of chin chuckles.

Then we had to go back in with the other winners. I know when that happens it means I’ve been a VERY good boy and will probably get lots of attention and treats, so I did my best. That nice man pointed at us again and I think someone must have scored a goal at the same time ‘cos there was a lot of shouting and yelling. Everyone was hugging and kissing Mum, although I could have sworn it was me that scored the goal … I mean won the competition. That Jay lady was screaming and jumping up and down too. Someone must have given her a really, really big piece of liver cake; either that, or it was her team that scored the goal [well, yes, it was in a way, Mo-mo. Ed]. It got even better after that as loads of people wanted to talk to me and take photos and make a big fussy fuss of yours truly, so I lapped it up for ages and then, blow me, they put me back on my bench again. I thought, ‘This is no way to treat a special boy like zzzzzz’.

Hours and hours later, when I thought they’d all forgotten me, Mum got me off the bench again and I thought, ‘Oh good, we’re going home, and we’ll be back in time for a walk.’ But no, it was back in the ring AGAIN and another nice man had a look at me and made me run around for a while. Always good to stretch your legs after being on the bench, eh? Both the chaps had a conflab and then pointed at yours truly yet again. By gum, I thought, I really am a special boy, aren’t I? [Yes you are, sweetheart. Ed]

There was loads more fussing to be lapped up and I was pretty damn tired by then; for once I was actually pleased to go back on my bench for a snooze. However, it was not to be. There was some kind of disembodied voice saying something about going to the collecting ring and all of a sudden we were off, racing from hall 5 to hall 4 to hall 3 to hall 2 with Natasha in tow and Iain and Ali struggling behind with all the guff. Slight hiccup in hall 2 as all the adrenalin and running about, combined with being indoors for 8 hours, had the inevitable effect and resulted in a large steaming pile on the floor. Mum did the sensible thing and dashed on, leaving Natasha to clear it up. I must say, it makes me snigger to think of it even now. I was always a showstopper you know. Ha ha ha. You should have seen their faces.

Anyway, you’ve seen the rest on TV where, if I say it myself, I looked a bit dashing. That anxious run through the halls had woken me up and I didn’t really want to do all that standing around so I decided to make best use of all the opportunities for a good fast run round the arena (good for a laugh watching Mum try to keep up as well) and then limber up in between by jumping up and down a lot.

Well, I suppose it must all have meant something to someone. It was a baffling load of non sequiturs to me (ha, you didn’t think I knew words like that, did you?), but it’s been good for a lot of fussing and plenty of treats since then, so who am I to complain?

Satchmo BOB and shorlisted in group at Crufts

 

Well, well, well. Went to Crufts last Sunday and the boy wonder Satchmo aka Grafmax Louis Armstrong ShCM won his two classes (Limit Dog with 18 in class and Good Citizen Dog) and went on to win the DCC, BOB and to be shortlisted to the last 7 in the Working Group. What an amazing experience! I'm still reeling and still smiling. Love my beautiful boy!


Video of shortlist for Limit Dog at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6cQdhc865k

BOB at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cu3tp3cRr8c

Group judging at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfbaysGpkuE

Satchmo showing his socks off!

I can hardly believe what's happening in the show ring at the moment. Satch is winning Best of Breed at over half his open shows at the mo and seems to get a group place every time. He's had 4BOB from 7 shows this year so far and at 2 of the others he just wouldn't stack.  He's had G1, G2 and G3 at the ones with groups and was shortlisted for BIS (out of about 25) in the other. So he's now got 41 class wins, 19 BOB and 12 group places, inc 4 group wins. He's the dog to beat at open shows at the moment. Am I enjoying it? Oh yes!

Kiki's not been out much, but had 2 x 1sts and 1 each of 2, 3, 4 over the weekend. Nina has won 4 of her 6 veteran classes.

Long may it last...

The last secret diary entry of Maximilian Thorn

I was sorting out the lovely Maxie's personal effects and in his little private box, among the pictures of Ellie and Nina, the old sock that smelt of Gerry, the pair of my knickers (I wondered where they had gone), and the half-eaten chews he was hiding from Satchmo, I found his last diary entry, written just the evening before he died.

Monday 17 December 2012

Woke up this morning and thought ‘I love my Mum’ – and suddenly realised she’d crept in without me noticing. I do wish the old girl wouldn’t creep up on me like that – gives me a helluva start. Anyway, as soon as it was light she took us all for our morning constitutional in the field, which was great. She’s chickened out a few times lately when it’s been really wet, but I reckon if I can make it, so can she. It was a bit of a red letter walk ‘cos I found a delicious dead rabbit and managed to get a couple of gulps before the old spoilsport took it off me. I just can’t understand why such tasty morsels have that effect on her, but perhaps she’s just holding them back for herself?

One good thing is that she’s started giving me raw meat again, so I had a scrummy breakfast with tripe and beef. Settled down for a snooze and then I heard the door. I was really pleased when it transpired to be that young beauty, Ella, with her mum. They stayed for a couple of hours so I was in boy dog sniffy bliss. This looks set to be a good day!

I was quite tired after they left so I had quite a long rest while Mum walked the scintillating Nina and the Brat. Nina even cosied up with me while the Brat and Mum were out. Then – real treat – Mum put me in the car and took me to the village for a walk. We went all round the village green. It’s a darn site easier under foot than the field in this weather (it’s flat for a start), but the best thing is that it smells of dozens of other dogs. I was in proper doggie heaven nosying around there, I can tell you. It was getting a bit near dusk and my eyes aren’t what they were, though, so a couple of times I looked up and couldn’t see where Mum was. I employed my usual emergency tactic of heading for home, and she found me again each time. For some reason it makes her laugh when I do that; all I can say is she’s got an odd sense of humour.

Home again for more beef and tripe and we also got a chew while Mum watched that TV thing. Just scribbling this in bed before I go to sleep. I know I’m getting older and stiffer and I do sometimes wonder how much more of this life thing there is, but today has been brill – a real high spot. I can’t imagine life being any better than this. Goodnight.