A wet day. Rain drips down from the clouds, a seemingly endless supply. Clear skies over the mountains hint at better things to come. But the damp dawn sulks its way into mid-morning. The dog is waiting for her walk. Across the playing field we go. A boring green expanse becomes an exciting playground. Full of different sounds and smells. Tail wagging, ears twitching. Head turns at my call. Back on the lead to turn down the hill. Pavements, it seems, have an endless fascination. ‘I wonder who passed by there?’ – You can almost see the thought. Round the steep bit and on to the old mill. A brief stop at the paper-shop to buy the newspaper. A patient dog waits outside, greeting the passers-by. Then onwards, along by the side of the stream. Splashing in the puddles. Up through the old orchard. She covers twice the distance , bounding about. A slow progress along the road, then back through the playing field. Pausing to chase the ball. Returning to base, we sit by the heater in the summer-house, drying out. I check emails. She tries to read them. Then, bored, she falls to sleep across my toes. A successful morning.
NB For those who are wondering – no, I haven’t acquired a dog! Back in North Wales for a month, house and dog-sitting for friends while they visit Australia.