We usually go for a walk with our dog to the nearby cemetery. It’s a lovely cemetery with paths and lawns to run on. I run. Repeat – I run with Bobby. I jog – sort of. Must look very funny to anyone watching the old lady lumbering along with her dog at her side.
But one morning this week, I got the urge to get more in touch with nature. We went for a walk along the river. You don’t know, that our dog has been obsessed with water to the extent that we’ve had to keep well away from it. He turns into a raving water lunatic. If you dare let him off the lead, he morphs into an otter, and simply disappears into the wild blue yonder.
So, we’ve spent a year training him by going to small rivulets, springs and little channels where he gets treats when he doesn’t do his water “thing”.
Our walk along the river was fantastic. Only once did Bobby make a dash down to the river bank, Mr Furlong yelled “No” and he stopped and returned to us.
It was good. We’ll do it again!