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The Fab Four
Sheffield Speeders – our top Team, of four good dogs, all fast and keen.
They’re Paddy, Sky, and Jay and Jet, who’ve raced as one for years, and yet
These years have rolled, their praises sung, but now The Four are not so young.
With Jay aged ten, the oldest lad, their speed is not what they once had.
Combine their ages – thirty-two – It put us handlers in a stew.
We thought about it hard and long – decided – split this Team so strong.
So, rearranged, took Sprinters name and still play at their favourite game.
New Speeders dogs, a younger crew with such a lot to live up to.
But Sheffield Teams will not forget our Paddy, Sky and Jay and Jet.
The “Team As Was” may be no more, but they did us proud, our old Fab Four.
The "Dynamic" Duo?
These two, in Flyball, for so long, have been so sure to get it wrong.
They do the jumps and get the ball, then oh dear me! thngs start to fall.
Jack comes back along the side each time the ball is bouncing wide.
And Hebe too will do the same. We lose the race time and again.
The names they're called are apt and fit - "Bugger Up" and mate "Sod It".
But just of late there's been some hope. They've got the plot and ow can cope
With down and back, they do it right - a really grand and cheering sight.
Perhaps we need no be a worrier for a delinquent Jack and Border Terrier.
Ten Point Davy
Remember Davy? Dog of Fame at commando crawling, bringing shame.
Won’t do Flyball. Never. No. Only at home will give it a go.
Now ten years old – it’s like a dream – he’s done it right – and on a Team!!!!
We whooped and cheered, were really glad. The opposition thought us mad.
We’d lost the race, but oh what joy! Ten points for Davy. Clever boy!
He got some points, he did his best. He’s now retired – he’s earned the rest!!
(And I can’t stand the stress of going through it all again.)
TEDDYBEARS PICNIC? - I think not!
If you went down to the Woods today
Believe me, I tell no lies.
If you went down to the Woods today
You sure got a big surprise.
For there today the three of us were
And sixteen dogs, with soaking wet fur.
Today's the day the Idiots walked the Woods trail.
Buzby the Flyball Dog
For some years now Buzz played this Game – in fact he’s got himself a name,
In Flyball he is quite unique, one alone, or so to speak.
The only Chinese Crested here, awards and points, all his, no fear.
But sadly it was not to be – he has his own technique you see.
He’ll hit the Box, release the ball, but that becomes his big downfall.
He cannot catch it, oh dear me! It’s on the ground for all to see.
Now let’s be fair – he picks it up but brings it back with one hiccough.
The ball rolls wide - the silly chump returns with it around the jump!
This stupid fault has cost him dear – he’s stayed in Starters every year.
At last he’s sorted, got the plot, does four jumps – the whole damn lot!
Because he plays and isn’t naughty – got promoted to Sheffield Shortie.
His points have risen, fear you not, his Flyball Dog Award he’s got.
Put Chinese Cresteds on the map, in Flyball, has this little chap.
He's got the points as I recall and never ever caught a ball!!!!!!
AMAZING DAVY!!!
Eight years ago this tale began - the final time that Davy ran.
He liked his flyball up till then, until he said, "No, never again"
A dog upset him on the lane - from then on, Davy caused me shame!
He'd come out ready, keen to run, get all revved up for flyball fun.
I'd let him go, but in front of all, he'd scuttle off in commando crawl.
The looks I got implied, "How bad. What treatment has that poor dog had?"
Twas best for all, and my good name, that Davy quit the flyball game.
At home he'd do it - keen to go. At training, Comps. a great big NO.
And so for years all Davy's done is cheer his mates and watch them run.
So time's rolled on, he's almost ten, but like a fool, I've tried again.
At Waltheof in lunch break's lull I thought I'd try the old numbskull.
I got him out, gave him a go - lo and behold, he did it! (slow).
He seemed to like it - wagged his tail, despite him running like a snail!
When Sunday's team was one dog short. I brought out Davy. ("Fool!" I thought).
Expected him to nerd and crawl - shocked everyone - he gave his all!!
Not the fastest dog it's true, but accurate and happy too.
Spectators knew his games of old and watched, expecting him to fold.
He ran each race and never faltered, although his pace he could have altered!
He played the game, not once was naughty - it seems he's now a Sheffield Shortie!!!!
Merry Christmas
Twas Christmas Time, lo and behold, the day was dry but crisp and cold.
To Flyball training , oh what fun, I let my dogs out first to run.
They dashed and played, a happy pack, all, of course, excepting Jack
Who had a go at poor old Jay, and Davy joined in on the way.
The little gits, with all their might, were wading in and shouting, "Fight!"
Being terriers, full of pluck, they bit each other, scuffled, shook.
I split them up and Davy went, but Jack, the Sod, was still hell bent
On Jay - he had him in his sight, missed, got my hand and held on tight.
He twigged that Jay he hadn't bit and let me go, but flaming **** (heck),
Blood was dripping, oh I say, head all muzzy, faint away!
Help was near and while I wobbled, First Aid supplies were quickly cobbled.
Field Bandage used, all clean and new (at least in 1942!!)
Steri-strips they did apply while I turned white and had to lie.
The shock at last it passed and went, another finger though had bent.
Hospital beckoned to get me fit - one finger splinted, two more bit.
They hurt, they throb, they look a mess. And Jack? Oblivious. Ah Bless!!!!
P.S. No wonder rats don't stand a chance.
Blackpool
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool
That's noted for fresh air and sun
And Speeders went there t'other weekend
For Flyball, and camping and fun.
A grand sort of place were the venue
All grassy - just right for the race
Wi' some fields wi' some horses and ponies
It being a horse rescue place.
Just Sparklers were there on the first day
Some dogs swapped the team they were in
And Sparklers, whose seeding was bottom,
Went on their Division to win.
On Sunday were Sprinters and Speeders
Some regular dogs not there - hence
In some legs they sent the sparks flying
Like Paula who touched "lectric fence!"
The weekend was good, we enjoyed it
The sun shone and filled us with glee
And seeking for further amusement
We drove in our cars to the sea.
Our dogs chased and played in the sand there
They paddled and swam and had fun
And then as we travelled back homeward
They dreamed about all they had done.
We had a good time up at Blackpool
With Flyball, the sea and the sand,
The sun, the good company, the camping,
By heck, but it really was grand.
Sherwood/Sheffield's Extra-ordinary Weekend
The Flyball at Redmires was sorted -
Nice venue - a touch out of town,
On Friday, warm sun helped us build it,
Next day gales and rain took it down!
The morning set out bright and breezy,
The Stats. tent it wiggled and flapped,
Then the rain came upon us in torrents -
Plus gales, and the tent sides just snapped.
Gazebos on lanes jumped and shuddered
Their roof poles all bent with the strain,
And still blew the gale, ever stronger,
Which made horizontal the rain.
But Flyballers raced on regardless
All soggy and soaked to the skin,
Two portaloos blew over backwards
When thankfully no-one was in.
We completed the morning's divisions
Despite being under duress
While the rain and the wind they continued
Till the grass was becoming a mess.
By the time we got going with Starters,
The rain and the wind were at peak,
Gazebos and awnings were airborne,
The jumps all collapsed in a heap.
Team Captains were called to a meeting
And sadly admitted defeat.
With racing abandoned for safety
We all beat a squelchy retreat.
Sunday dawned drier and brighter
The wind not a gale, but still frisky,
Though with lanes relocated in shelter
The outlook appeared much less risky.
The racing progressed without trauma,
Completed with much less ado,
The tents stayed in place, the gazebos,
And awnings, and lone Portaloo.
Despite the appalling conditions,
The worst that they really could be,
We'll still be competing next weekend -
'Cos we're all mad as hatters, you see!!
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