Lulu and Sofia, in matching jackets.
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starring a small fraction of the approximately 1 million dogs in New York City
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2008
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March
(16)
- Nicky
- wolf, waiting
- double whippets
- Lucian Freud's whippet, Pluto
- alvin!
- brindle on brindle
- west village shag
- I'm sorry, can you repeat that?
- nervously waiting outside gourmet garage
- this is woody
- and this, according to their owner, is his girlfri...
- dulce is very friendly
- is in fact quite a snugglebunny
- woody is maybe not very much in favor of this
- whatever was going on, he certainly had a lot to s...
- oh sadie you're so fine
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March
(16)
2 comments:
that looks like the vest they make you put on at the dentist before x-rays... WEIRD...
Had a spate of luck on a whippet once at the noon race at walthamstow back in may ought two. Name of the bitch was lucy or lila or agnes I think. Any roads, put ten quid on her and 40 minutes later my waistcoast was £200 thicker. Of course I nipped back to town in the Daimler on the M11 with my winnings and ended up knee deep in Hendrick’s at Claridge’s with Freddie Anthouser-Gough. Must have been there an hour or two before Rufus Lloyd-Bowes came in seeking solace. Poor devil’s been drafted into the respectable life with a job at his fiancé’s father’s firm. I had barely said “what ho! Rufus” before he was reaching into his wallet and handing over 50 quid. Sporting chap recalled having lost to me at snooker at his cousin Lydia Parker-Lloyd’s spread in Cheltenham a fortnight ago and had come to pay his debt. How he knew I’d be at Claridge’s at half four on a Wednesday baffles me. So there I was all but swimming in brass, a long evening ahead and two fine chaps at my side. Roast partridge and claret was called for so we popped round to the club for a tuck-in. And then it was off in search of entertainment. Heading back to our club after catching some good burlesque (as if there’s any other kind) in Soho we met mother’s Aunt Victoria returning from a respectable Shaw production in the West End. Her tongue lashing about morality drove us into some new spot in Chinatown that Freddie knew where we played a hand or two and indulged in a fine pipe they kept passing around. The rest of the night’s a bit of a blur with my valet waking me up in the green across from the flat. My shoes were sodden and my ascot gone astray but blast it all, what else is a chap to do on a wednesday night?
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