Do you want the good news or the bad news first?  Lets start with the good news.  I’ve just finished my first two days trading at my first ever dog show in the lovely Essex countryside.  And it poured down.  It was epic.  A mudfest on a par with Glastonbury.  My favourite mutt was sheltering from the rain in an adapted Morrison’s carrier bag.  An antidote to the titchy Cavalier Spaniel decked out in Burberry.

By Sunday afternoon rain had stopped play entirely and the only living things having a good time were the two terriers in the agility ring that just wouldn’t stop racing each other, their owners slipping and sliding after them in a futile attempt at recapture.  So, soaking wet and miserable, we packed up and went home.

Considering the weather and the fact that I was in no way as organised as I thought I was, I did alright, breaking even and covering my costs for the weekend. 

Now for the bad news.  To say I’ve got a lot to do to before the next show is an understatement.  Confident I’d got my banner advertising right I proudly displayed two massive banners only to realise that, actually, they didn’t in fact tell anyone reading it what my company does.  Utterly, utterly, pointless.  So, when anyone ambles past my tent, unless they stop and venture inside they’re clueless as to what I do.  Triffic!  Although, when customers did come in they wanted to know more and I wasn’t backward in coming forward handing out leaflets and cards for all I was worth.

I thought it would be easy to set up shop in about an hour.  Try three and a half.  I thought I could pack it all away every night into the van, for security.  Not a chance.  You try standing for ten hours in the cold and lashing rain then weigh up a beer and a hot bath with schlepping wet boxes in the rain.  Never going to happen.  And product presentation?  Don’t get me started. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve worked my backside off these last few months, it’s just that there are only so many hours in a day and I’ll learn from every show. 

I’ve ordered strong, waterproof, lidded boxes for ferrying stock and hired a van instead of killing myself jamming it all into two cars for the next show.  I’m negotiating for secondhand shopfitting mesh and hooks so I can show off my gourmet treats and food to their best advantage (and get them off the floor!).  I’ve salvaged the banners by adding a strapline printed on stick-on vinyl by the people who made them for me in the first place (so I’m not the first idiot they’ve laid eyes on then).  

When I’d unpacked two damp cars, seen my very forgiving sister off home and removed my wet boots and socks I checked my emails. 

Ten people had visited my website and signed up for information! 

So, for all that, when my advertising and shopfitting are sorted, and the website is up, on a fine weekend with a following wind, who knows?

I don’t think, even with a business plan, investors and the website ordered that this business was a reality to me, until this week when everything I had ordered turned up!  I’d take a punt and say there’s roughly half a ton of pet food, cat litter (totally organic, natch), herbal dog shampoo, holistic fruit cookies for dogs (yes, really) and herbal remedies sitting on my dining room floor. 

There are tins and boxes in the hall next to some dodgy collapsible tables from Argos because there’s a national trestle table shortage, I kid you not, and the marquee, which can in no way be erected and dismantled in under two minutes (like the man said) without serious injury and hospitalisation.

One advantage to trading however is that while you personally shall be skint forever, and going shopping for yourself quickly becomes a distant memory, you have the joy of opening box after box of fabulous stuff, even if it is for making your dog’s coat glisten and smell of shea butter and not, well, dog.  After reading this back to myself I know I need a night out.

But what’s really exasperated me this week is the time I’ve wasted trying to find insurance for this little lot.  Unlike car or contents insurance, there are no great screenscrapers for business insurance, so I’ve been on the phone explaining (in simple terms I thought) what I do.  Frustratingly, I don’t fit into a neat little box as I am operating online and as an exhibitor (don’t say market trader or you’ll hear phones crashing down from here to Glasgow).  Eventually I found two insurers who would take me on for upwards of £600 and even then, my goods will not be insured when they’re not in the house.  So, I have public liability (in case anyone falls off their sofa while ordering from their laptop?) but no stock insurance.

Unless…. I lock the stock in the van at a show and sleep in a tent next to it then it will be insured.  Do the insurance company really think I’m going to challenge anyone, determined enough to nick it?  ‘Seriously, your big scary dog’s going to love the fruit cookies!  And his fur’s not looking great, truth be told, take the shea butter shampoo and the Plush Puppy conditioner, he’ll look FABULOUS on your next robbery.’  Then they’ll pay up?  It’s almost funny.

Right, I’m off for a marathon haggle-athon with the courier company, Parcelforce and the post office.

One week to go until the big day, my first day of trading at All About Dogs in Brentwood, and everything feels half done.  That’s because it is.  I’ve got a ‘to do’ list as long as your arm. To be fair, I’ve managed to cross off half the items but I’ve also added quite a few more. 

It’s been a week of ups and downs and my working day goes something like this: Wide awake at 6.45 at my desk by 7.15.  Work until 6.30 pm then go swimming to get some thinking done without the phone ringing and get some exercise which is crucial if you’re not going to go insane.  After dinner I’m usually sitting on the sofa with one eye on Ugly Betty or ER while I’m designing discount vouchers on the laptop and emailing my website designer.  By 10.30 pm I can’t see straight, and I fall on my bed as if Daniel Mead was in it.  Next day, do same thing all over again.

I call this my set up week, which means while I’ve put several wheels in motion there’s not much to show for it (except a large pile of dog and cat food boxes on my living room floor which Dave the cat is eyeing up and his sister Pearl is sleeping on, guarding it you understand.)  The website is coming on a pace and looking good.  I am reliably informed it will be ready for me to start uploading content onto next week (when, midnight?) my stationery is ordered and I am very excited about two huge banners I ordered on Wednesday for the trade marquee. 

Stock has been the big issue though.  It’s all very well compiling a list of the best food available, much of it from small producers passionate about their products but in the end you’ve got to pick up the phone and spend money hoping you’re ordering what will sell.  I’ve haggled, whittled each line down to the best sellers so I’m not stuck with the hard to shift, obscure foods and talked at length with established stall holders and made my choices accordingly.  Only one delivery has arrived so far but by Wednesday my living room will be stuffed to the gills and the cats will be beside themselves.

My marquee for the show arrived yesterday.  It’s one of those tough, all weather, pop-up affairs.  The man on the phone said their record for erecting and dismantling it was 1m 51secs!  It’s 44kg and nearly as tall as me, in the box.  So today we’re having a dress rehearsal in the garden and I’ve booked an appointment with the osteopath for Monday morning.  Wish me luck!