Connie the Cobrador

We have already established Oakley is wise in all things, and the naming of the Dunn family dog saw no dilution of his wit and wisdom. Connie is the result of a night of unlicensed passion enjoyed by two beautiful pedigree dogs (I'm not a dog person - I know one's a bitch, but it spoils the scan). Sadly, they weren't the same pedigree, and soon the bump began to show on her Long Haired Golden Retriever mother, whilst her Collie father was nowhere to be seen. Oakley used the license we afford to comic genii to overlook that a Retriever ain't a Labrador to come up with the handle that she is known by for streets around - Connie the Cobrador

Connie was born in a litter of only two on 20th June 2000, a very convenient year for remembering how old she is. She was born in high Mendip, in beautiful Somerset. At eight weeks, she clawed, bit and urinated all over my then seven year old daughter for the duration of a five hour Bank Holiday journey from motorway hell all the way up to the Former People's Republic of Humberside, to hide under the kitchen table rather than meet her new family. When she did come out, her reign of terror began, the major casualties being three pine doors completed eaten through and every wellington boot the family possessed, which was as ironic as biting the hand that feeds, given wellies equals walkies.

Whilst Connie doesn't do irony, she is remarkably intelligent, which I can only put down to Hybrid Vigour (I once saw that printed on a Nickerson's cereal seed bag in my seed merchant days, and have stored it until now, sure it would come in useful, lobbed into conversation one day). As already stated, I ain't a dog man. Despite my farm background, I am surprisingly a cat man. We had three cats in my childhood; Wally (named after Walter Clarke of Station Road, Tollesbury, whose kind bequest of a kitten was greeted with less enthusiasm by my parents!), Baggy (the one I named, after Bagheera in my still favourite film, Walt Disney's Jungle Book), and their progeny (or that is what we hoped, although Wally seemed a bit dim) was crowned Chairman Mousey Dunn (work on that one a bit, think Great March and Sino-dictator) as she was always in my father's chair. Sorry, back on message - Mongrels? Clever things. Pedigree? Interbred thickoes.

Time for you to see the good woman, herself, as I attempt to glue my first picture to this page:-

Oh, that's odd, they've appeared at the top