This country has gone to the dogs. I kind of like that phrase, although it has nothing to do with this entry. This entry is about going to see ACTUAL dogs.
On Saturday, I went to Walthamstow's fine old dog racing track. It's actually a very fun night out, where you drink, and place bets on dog races.
It was a man named Michael's birthday, and there were a few of us, so we were able to discuss the ins and outs of our bets, and the form of the dogs, as if we were experts. The fact that it was quite common for us to refer to the dogs as horses, kind of gave away our non-expert status a bit. I know dogs and horses look nothing like each other, but they both have four legs, and horses are involved in a lot of races. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it like glue (sorry, if any old horses are reading).
The night consisted of 14 races, and I bet a quid on each race, managing to win 4, and thus ending up only 60p down. Yes!
Poor old Michael the birthday boy lost every race. Life can be so cruel sometimes.
Read Tom's version of the Walthamstow Dogs
Posted by paul at May 20, 2004 08:49 PM