CRUFTS!
The only thing that matters in this godforsaken world is Crufts. The organisers of Crufts know that, as do the fans.
Yesterday, Crufts 2019 wrapped up. It delivered yet another spectacular event which cemented the fact that dogs are very much worth dying for, as well as demonstrating the alarming lengths that dogs are willing to go to in their eternal quest to obtain treats.
The goodest boys tried their absolute best, competing in events that tested their agility, obedience and ability to woo a crowd with a quick wiggle of their butts.
Not that it’s mandatory, but watching Crufts when you’re hungover is peak living. Honestly, try it.
As with every year, I watched the show like a hawk, scouting to find the best boys (and girls) in contention for the trophy.
Behold my findings.
Name: Unknown, but I feel it is Lucy.
Interests: Velcro, Chinese takeaway, rubbing her butt up against things for no reason other than joy, posting Instagrams with old friends captioned ‘Reunited and it feels so bad’, licking her paws almost to the point of obsession, watching Louis Theroux documentaries and sitting dangerously close to the fire during the harsh winter months.
Downfalls: Sometimes she smells like the peach shower gel that she was told to stay away from, but that’s a coincidence.
Name: Unknown, but probably something like Jessica.
Interests: Shopping, reading Enid Blyton novels, ordering two starters instead of a main course in a restaurant, talking about wanting to get into CrossFit, parking in parent and child carpark spaces regardless of being neither, getting excited about buying stationary and notebooks, telling people she reads Tolstoy.
Downfall: Nothing, except maybe catfishing rich men online to get them to buy her expensive silk negligee, but let he who is without sin, etc.
Name: Bobby Joe, but I think he looks more like a Nigel.
Interests: Black and white movies (so all movies), reading broadsheet newspapers on public transport, mansplaining, using tote bags, forging legal documents to obtain social welfare to fund his failing career as an artist, telling women they should really smile more, saying things like “Righto” and “Brexit means Brexit”.
Downfall: Nothing, except maybe his insatiable thirst for human flesh.
Name: Dylan. Actually suits him pretty well.
Interests: Barking at construction workers, humping teddy bears, berating people that whip out guitars at parties despite having no musical talent himself, whispering poetry into the night, leaving a spare key out for his imaginary friend, deliberately poaching eggs for too long so the middle goes solid, voting for Tories.
Downfall: Once smelled his own fart and passed out for six minutes.
Name: Unknown, probably Anthea.
Interests: Choking, bondage, alphabetising her extensive Chris De Burgh CD collection, putting out the wrong wheelie bin to confuse the neighbours, smoking indoors, omitting the occasional item from the self-scanner, eating (and enjoying) faeces, blowdrying her hair when everyone is in bed, cheating at Sudoku and getting tattoos in tribute to each of her many lovers.
Downfall: Anthea has a criminal record for a non-violent crime she committed which for legal reasons cannot be outlined here.
Name: Unknown, but definitely Missy.
Interests: Tending to the every need of her devoted lover of 25 (dog) years, calling over with baskets of freshly-baked muffins to new neighbours, reaching into the back of the supermarket shelf to ensure that the furthest best before date is being procured, brushing her teeth while wandering aimlessly through the house, peeing on expensive ornaments.
Downfall: Missy, although she knows it will ultimately result in her demise, loves chocolate oranges.
Name: Unknown, but definitely Oliver.
Interests: Aggressive but consensual snuggling, standing atop a mountain staring into the abyss with the wind flowing freely through his envious locks, rescuing children that are trapped down wells, modelling for dog calendars, playfully calling pizza ‘za’, writing strongly-worded letters to the council about hazardous potholes on the main road, Zorbing.
Downfall: Oliver openly hates the rich.
Name: Unknown, but probably Chips.
Interests: Dabbling in the occult, eating fish fingers before they’ve been fully defrosted, chasing pavements (huge Adele fan), turning water into wine, eating meals with precisely twelve people, resurrecting, hanging out, making blood pacts, kissing, adjusting the central heating after being warned not to, wearing Heelys and governing the state of Massachusetts
Downfall: Chips’ attention span is so poor that sometimes he forgets to shout ‘Bank’ at the telly when he’s watching The Weakest Link.
Name: Unknown, but she looks like an Olivia.
Interests: Breathing heavily, tap dancing to the gentle sounds of Fleetwood Mac, ordering too much from the takeaway and having to pretend to the delivery man that it’s for two people, describing Eurovision as being “too political”, rubbing her butt on strangers’ shoes, pilates and advocating circumcision among canines.
Downfall: Olivia uses an expired student ID to get cheaper cinema tickets.
Name: Genevieve.
Interests: Marinating chicken breasts overnight, flicking her hair out of her eyes like a sultry temptress, lactating, painting Renaissance-inspired artwork, Brazilian waxes, lazing in the sun on a weekday afternoon, single-handedly corrupting the country’s finance sector, completing 1000-piece jigsaws and humping various family members who are visibly upset.
Downfall: Chronic halitosis, but she carries it well.
