Great Poem

[Kirsty Blair]

Hi All,

Saw this link on the RTF bulletin board. It could just as easily apply to our hardworking throwers and stewards in Australia.

Have a look

http://www.sbda.itgo.com/custom2.html

Kirsty

[Brian McMillan]

Great Poem, Kirsty.................Thanks!

Brian

[Julie Cramond]

Good find, Miss K.

[Diane McCann]

What is the RTF bulletin board?

Diane

[Teresa Parkinson]

Hi Diane,

RTF (Retriever Training Forum) Bulletin Board is another site similar to this one but based in the US and just a little bit busier.

Here's a link if you're interested -

http://www.retrievertraining.net/forums/index.php

You may find some of the user names quite familiar!

Have fun.

Teresap

[Jason Ferris]

...could just as easily apply to our hardworking throwers and stewards in Australia...

Nice poem Kirsty. Reading it reminds me of a game steward that recently copped a bagging from a certain handler in Hartley for trying teach a newcomer the black art of throwing birds (with mixed results).

jf.

[Kirsty Blair]

Hi Jason,

No, that poem doesn't relate to the Hartley "episode" at all. I believe that the one that follows is a more accurate interpretation.

(Everyone else please note that my tongue is firmly in cheek with this piece of writing. Jason is a fine, upstanding, fair and equitable competitor and he would never really do this. However, whilst the parts about Jason are blatant lies all the bits about me are absolutely true )

There was a trial at Hartley
They came from near and far
With dogs and camping gear
Piled high in all their cars.

They were a friendly lot
And most swapped waves and smiles
For it wasn't just the trialling
That brought them all those miles.

But there always is exception
To every single rule
And to some it was the winning
The dog was just a tool.

Kirsty was the former
A sweet and kind young girly
Never mean to anyone
Nor cheeky, wry or surly.

She met her alter ego
At that fateful Hartley trial
His name was Jason Ferris
Nasty, mean and vile.

Kirsty was so sweet to him
But he didn't give a toss
He only wanted his first place
And wouldn't suffer loss.

Jason saw his chance
When asked out on the thrower
To dash the hopes of Kirsty
His act could not be lower.

He fiddled with the rubbers*
And moved around the bird
And most would swear to God
Wicked chuckling could be heard.

When Kirsty came to run
It was well beyond a joke
The birds went everywhere but up
As if the thrower broke.

"Sorry," Jason said so sweetly
Failing to hide his smirk
He trully was most evil
A nasty piece of work.

TO BE CONTINUED

* "Rubbers" in this context are referring to the component of the bird thrower not any other meaning one should care to give it!!

[Teresa Parkinson]

Kirsty,

Great poem!

Please be sure to give us the rest of it in due course. Not that I enjoy seeing Jason stirred up or anything....

Teresap