Puppy Class III: The Nightmare Continues

Week Three in Puppy Class and you’re glad you weren’t there.

After my frustrations last week, Andrew was placed – by force – in the hotseat this week, dancing about the floor and doing the awkward interactions with the other idiots that paid fifty quid for this ritual humiliation.

Despite the respite I sat on the sidelines as tense, stressed and uncomfortable as anyone else in the hall. Possibly all of them combined. Continue reading “Puppy Class III: The Nightmare Continues”

‘Puppy Class’, by Miss Trunchbull

Last night’s outing to a local community centre was, to be frank, terrifying, not least because of the strong, broad, horsey woman who ran it, whose name I’m still not sure we even know. Continue reading “‘Puppy Class’, by Miss Trunchbull”