Saturday, August 20, 2011
Hot and humid .
Moscow was hot and humid . The men in dark suits sensibly sporting summer outfits. My host , a senior politician , dressed like an inverted daffodil in lime green shirt and yellow trousers . Hartford Country Club meets Russian oligarch . Angus in dark blue suit, shirt and tie stands out like an undertaker in a field of exotic , pastel shaded , flowers .
The meeting wasn't , as thought, in the airconditioned luxury of the boardroom but in a plywood chalet at the Moscow Airshow . Any pretence of business lost amid the roar of engines and fighter jets performing improbable, gravity annulling , gyrations in the sky above .
On my return home Wilf does a ten minute soft shoe shuffle routine . Paws out in front of him, body turning first this way then that , every part of him in a state of constant motion . High pitched whoops rather than barks of delight . His body simply unable to contain the joy that's welling up inside him now that he's found his lost sheep . A quart of love bursting out of a white furry pint pot. ' The font ' looks at me , laughs and says " I guess you could say he's happy ".