Company

Penny and Roger missed having Hugo yesterday when I was still unable to do my voluntary job. So they took him for the whole day today, overjoyed to see him again, and vice versa. It's such a happy arrangement for all concerned, another huge piece of luck in the grand scheme of things: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world ..." etc. Fortune has smiled on me my whole life though there have been black looks too, and I can't complain. I don't complain. The funny thing was the emptiness after he'd gone, the first time I've been at home without him for over six months. I kept looking down at his bed, turning to see him follow me into the garden. When they brought him back I was in the summerhouse with Ruth and Lesley, just finishing a few hours of Italian conversation. Reunions with him are always wonderful. If you're in the garden he charges towards you at such speed that he ends up on the sofa, the farthest point from the gate. It was so good to see him, and they had had a lovely day with him, full of talk about all his antics and exploits.

Yesterday I was sprung from my metaphorical sick bed and taken to the beach. We bought a picnic lunch at Waitrose, Ruth and I, where we bumped into Helen just back from a holiday in Bulgaria. She'll be coming up later in the week, without the usual bottle of Prosecco I hope. Sizewell beach may be close to two nuclear power stations, but it is one of the very nicest places in Suffolk to walk. The greensward is soft and springy underfoot, and there are sand dunes and rabbit holes, loads of gorse with the scent of coconuts - Ambre Solaire - and always the sea crashing gently or fiercely onto the land. You can walk for miles in both directions, to RSPB Minsmere and Dunwich one way, and Thorpeness and Aldeburgh the other. I've loved this place since I discovered it nine years ago, and it's where Hugo can run wild and free with plenty of other dogs to play with. To this paradise I was driven, and while I sat in the car after we'd eaten, and watched the sea, Ruth took the boy off for a long stomp. I couldn't believe how invigorating the change was.

I think this horrible bug is receding. I'm definitely not feeling so awful though I'm still easily tired and sleeping a great deal in the daytime. We've managed to survive, this sweet black dog and me. I've never felt so dreadful that I couldn't take him into the field, even if I didn't wander very far and just watched him doing his thing. And people have helped, and walked him when they could. I can't imagine my life without him now. He's the best of companions, the dearest little boy. If only he could talk.