Trotters has had a busy weekend dressing Fillipa Hole and some other random itternerant that ended up at my house on Friday night.

Fillipa was dressed in the beautiful purple sequinned dress that Trotters had run up on his old battered singer sewing machine, painstaikingly covered in sequins by a muttering Giggsey Girl.

In the dress, pink leg warmers covered in knee high black socks, a black wig and Carleens tiger skin robe, he resembled nothing more than a hooker on crack cocaine. It was warmly received by the rest of us as we had been up all night celebrating the weekend and were rather the worse for wear.

Varne decided that if Fillipa was in a frock that legs shood be shaved, but unfortunately took some skin off in the process, and a nipple was nearly lost in a horrific clipper incident.

Now the weekend is nearly over.

I feel like ive been kicked repeatedly in the kidneys by an irate racehouse. Milan is wrapped up on the sofa in one of the throws looking like a dead brown bear cub.

We are watching Crufts, the best dog show in the world. This has not stopped Trotter from chasing Tutz up the stairs. Trotter does not have a snowballs chance in hell of ever winning an award at Crufts, we dont know his breed, he's not particularly agile and he's downright disobediant. He did win Scruffiest dog at Oxford Pride but through default, as he was the only entrant. Mind you, I don't know any other dogs that have dreadlocks on their willies, so I think it was probably a well deserved win.