I'm up early and so are the dogs, L and even Daughter, as we all head off to Scunthorpe for a dog show, where we also intend to stay overnight. We're left Son at home with some nutritional ready meals (if such a thing exists) for company. Anything to keep him off the pizzas.
Having dropped the girls in town for some serious wallet emptying, the boys (dogs) and I do the rounds at the show because everyone wants to meet Mini Doggo. He loves it, his first dog show and so many dogs to check out. He insists on barking at the biggest ones.
Socialising aside, it's a serious day because it's our first day in Grade 6 and although it's great fun getting four seriously testing courses, we don't exactly cover ourselves in glory. Two eliminations and two lots of five faults. The faults being Doggo's fault for missing his first weave (twice). The eliminations largely my fault for giving him too much slack with which he duly hung himself, and me.
There's bad news for the expandable trousers brigade because the burger van has been replaced by the local Lions club who provide a much healthier menu. Amazingly, for a dog show, I get a brown roll with salad in it and it was also only a £1.
When the girls return, laden down with mainly books and shoes, we head off towards the coast to try to find somewhere to pitch camp. We end up near the 'pulsating' seaside town of Mablethorpe. It's not a bad campsite to be fair, ideal for sipping wine with a couple of collies at your feet; that is if you pin the youngest one down long enough. We also find a decent pub with some local Lincolnshire Tom Woods ale, although the more famous local ale of Batemans seems oddly difficult to get hold of. We take fish and chips back to the tents.
Camping, of course, is another first for Mini Doggo. L's a bit worried about sharing a tent with him or more precisely, as she puts it, being nipped by the 'scrote' at half-hourly intervals throughout the night. Her fears are unfounded, he's that knackered, he's just zonked out all night.