Welcome | Start Line | Clubs & Private Tuition | Events & Measuring | Facebook | Fleamarket | Judges | Rescues | Senior League | Show Diary | Winning out | Workshops | Contact Us

     Sponsors of the 2018
   Winning Out Certificates


 Twerphounds to the rescue...

Here is a bedtime story from Richard Partridge to read to your dogs on Christmas Eve. And don't forget to put some Bonios out this year for the Twerphounds. They prefer dog biscuits to carrots!

T'was the night before Christmas and it was just getting dark. Santa and the Elves had all of the children’s presents made, painted, wrapped and ready to deliver. With a sigh of relief Santa went off to his house for a meal and a fortifying dram before he set off with the reindeer to deliver all of the packages.

Shortly afterwards he came out of the house, went to the sleigh and checked he had everything and that it was secure. He could not risk dropping any presents on this night of nights. Then, satisfied, he headed off to the stables to fetch Rudolph and all of the other magical reindeer.

Upon entering the stable, he immediately experienced a sinking feeling.  All of the reindeer were lying down. Some were coughing and others were sneezing. All were  feeling very, very poorly.

'Oh drat.' grumbled Santa, although he thought something quite different. 'What’s wrong, boys?  You know this is the most important night of the year. You can’t go off form now.' 

Rudolph weakly raised his head, his red nose only a glimmer of its usual self. 'Sorry, Santa,' he said, 'We all seem to have a touch of bird flu, pig flu or something. We are very sorry, but we just won’t be able to go out into the cold tonight.'

'Drat,' quoteth Santa again. 'What shall I do? What shall I do? I have to get these presents delivered tonight. There a zillions of children waiting, and they have all been very good for weeks to make sure I come.'

A small red flash lit up Rudolph’s nose. 'I have an idea, he piped up. 'You could try the infamous Twerphounds. I hear they have magical properties, and they are always willing to help.'

Without further ado, Santa rushed off and made a desperate phone call.

Alfie and Murphy, the terrible Twerphound Twosome, rose to the challenge, and the rest, as they say, is history... or complete fantasy.


He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!'