That Wooferendum I went to in October and forgot to post about

It may be February now, but what better time than this awkward, gloomy tail-end-of-winter month full of office lurgies, sporadic showers and concerns about whether we should take our hat and gloves out with us everywhere to LOOK AT PICTURES OF DOGS. Happy belated Wooferendum, everyone.

On 7th October 2018, hundreds of canines took to the streets of London to bork and walk with a purpose. That purpose was to protest against Brexit/for a vote or say on the final 'deal', and in solidarity, their people plus many fellow humans went for walkies with them (myself included). I don't really like getting caught up in politics most of the time, but this opportunity to "do something" about the current situation with many floofs involved was too cool to miss.

On arriving at Piccadilly Circus, before I knew it there was a suspected marcher in sight:

spot the pupper

Despite this promising start, I pottered on down to Waterloo Place just before noon on my todd and felt like a bit of a lost lemon who'd forgotten how to talk to people I didn't know (somehow in London this task feels 20x trickier). The first greeting I got was by a doggo, who began to use me as some kind of prop so she could get a better view of her surroundings without even a "bork" hello. It's safe to say that I did not mind. In fact, I insisted on a handpawshake so we knew we were on good terms.

The next canine I saw was evidently a very important lady, a voice for her people in fact. She had a lovely 'Collies think Brexit is for wallies' sign which she most definitely painted herself of course, and as a bonus, her owner had some very nice boots.

The next twenty minutes were a whirlwind, I tell ye. While we waited to set off on the march, I met a m-u-l-t-i-tude of woofers. Woofers in coats:

Woofers sausages in jumpers:

And even a tiny queen in a bow tie! Meet Daphne, the wonder sossige. I wasn't aware of her 8000+ Instagram follower fame when we met, but I was still in awe of her smol majestic presence. What an honour.

owning it

It wasn't just small doggos, however. Peering through the crowd,  I managed to track down the big borkers on the square, including a Bernese mountain dog, something resembling a huge mop with a tongue, a pure GIANT, and some inus of various types:

But the REAL pure unadulterated joy came when I encountered the corgis of the march. First came Fred, a very friendly pembroke chap with a very friendly owner. 

And secondly, Mishka. I have to say, Mishka's owner was and probably still is the COOLEST lady I have seen in, well, ever.

Mishka, it turns out, was rather excitable and happy to meet others (maybe a bit too much, *ahem*).

Apart from the march itself, of course, I witnessed the greatest event of the day: the corgis meeting one another.

And at some point, we actually started marching. That makes it sound like we were swinging our arms and yelling, but instead there were some chants with delicious puns in, a semi-famous lady with a fluffy white dog and some very careful walking alongside small paws. We eventually arrived outside the Houses of Parliament and listened to a shouty man shout about things before Alistair Campbell turned up with his Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and got mixed reactions.

All in all, it was one of the coolest and weirdest events I've ever turned up to. Going on my own, although nervewracking, turned out to be a groovy move as I got chatting to lots of fascinating people (and pups). 10/10 would march again.

Here are some behind-the-scenes bloopers to finish off with...

shaking off the rage

politi-butt