I’ve never been to the ground of Dearne and District FC before but something tells me that this dog spends pretty much every home match in this position: he certainly did today. We all have to stand on the outer side of the fence, but this chap is clearly much more important than us. At least, in his head.
Congratulations to my cousin, Dave Hall, the good-looking chap on the right (but you knew that) whose marriage to Abby brings together a gaggle of existing offspring, including Padfoot the dog: he was dressed in his tux too (not very apparent here) but, no, was not up front for the whole ceremony. He came back down the aisle with them though, and was just as happy about the experience as everyone else.
In fact after this day I am starting to think that there haven’t been enough weddings depicted on this blog. Like all ceremonies and celebrations there are reasons we have developed the rituals and the whole day was certainly a good way of affirming a bonding of two things — families — that were not bonded before, and of publicly committing to it. I’m in.
Diamond is as much part of the Railway pack as anyone, whether human or canine. She’s getting old now, as you can tell, so is not out as often as she might be — something that will come to be the case for all of us, in time, I am sure.
“I just want to run. Chase a small animal. Maybe drop a turd somewhere! HELP ME!!”
The dog pram: another step backwards for canines. Millions of years of independent evolution, then they made the mistake of hooking up with humanity.
A fourth appearance for Hugo, and this portrait sums up his general character as well as anything. Since we last saw him I believe he has lost a couple of crucial parts of his anatomy (y’know) but it doesn’t seem to have changed him much.
Mulling over the choices for today’s photo I said to Clare, “Is this one a bit too pathetic?”, and she replied, “maybe, but it sums her up quite well, it’s Trixie’s role to look neurotic and a bit pathetic”. This is true — except when a strange dog dares to approach her, then she turns very territorial. She hogs the fire, too. But of course we know all these things about her because she’s part of the pack.
“Hmmmff. Another day of having my needs ignored. Look at that couple over there. Eating sausages for heaven’s sake. Meanwhile, I just get another cold floor and the leash. And they keep expecting me to fetch their bloody balls for them as well.”
This pub at Manchester Victoria station has not been opened all that long (a couple of years by now, I think) but it has rapidly become a Pub of Choice in the city. I don’t do advertising on this blog, except when I do. The dog belongs to one of the regular bar staff: when she’s working, it just hangs out, happily enough, with the rest of us.
Day two of the journey home, so a day spent largely behind the wheel. Only at the lunchtime stop, Annandale Water services (it’s been on before) was there the chance for photography. All motorway service stations are places of transience: if anyone stops for longer than 30 minutes, which is about what we managed, I would wonder why. So this little critter shouldn’t be too worried. I’m sure they’ll be back soon enough.
I was taking a shot of the dog, when the guy turned around as well to finish it off. Yes, the 2025-26 football season — at least, some its ‘pre-season friendly stage’ — is up and running…
