So now I have visions of a reality tv show of my old dog in a wedding dress trying to find suitable bachelors.
Any suitors out there who'd put up with a slightly snappish, jealous, brooding, shedding, whingey, deeply affectionate to a chosen few Kelpie? No hip troubles, still as deft as Harry Kewell with a ball (despite eyesight gradually fading), enjoys sprints in the park, nagging for left-overs and boasts selective hearing and as-yet unwavering indoor continence. Aged about 84. Applications closing soon.

"Well, hell-ow fellas"
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