Oh, I just posted that we had a successful “Back to Nature” walk along the river with our now – um – well-trained! dog.
Today, we did a different river walk. We won’t do it again.
I went along with my mothers walking stick. Mistake. It was very heavy – heavy. It hurt my arthritic hand. So I asked Mr Furlong to take the dog, who was on his extra long lead.
At the first whiff of river, I could see river-madness entering dog-mind. And when we got to the point where the river seemed obtainable, all hell broke loose. Mr Furlong was distracted by negotiating the broken path over rocks, roots and vines, and Bobby took off.
Hurtling down the bank to the end of the lead, he yanked Mr Furlong off-balance.
It was a picture to watch the elegance with which Mr Furlong, a large man, corrected his fall. He executed the most magnificent Grand Jete, that anyone has ever seen. It was simply breathtakingly stunning. And, miraculously, Mr Furlong stayed on his feet.
Bobby came back with surprise at all the shouting and dancing. And because he was on the lead!