Joining In

My weekend visitor went home today. No more tea in bed in the morning, and cosy chats about this and that until hunger forced us up. Hugo was not going to be left out, and so we spread my navy blue dressing gown on the duvet between us and he practically hit his head on the ceiling in his eagerness to join us. He hasn't been very well behaved, oh no. The first few nights he settled on his sofa as usual when we said goodnight, but minutes later he was bounding up the stairs, tail wagging and legs dancing delightedly. "You forgot about me," he said joyously. "But it's OK, I remembered!" We laughed at him, but sent him back to the kitchen. He couldn't believe it. Down two steps he'd go, then he'd look back expecting a reprieve, and so on all the way down. At the bottom he galloped back up again, only to have to repeat the performance. Oh, the disappointment. Last night he got his revenge. When I opened my door in the morning he ran out of the empty bedroom to surprise me. "See me," he said. "I'm here. I've been here all night!" And when we examined the bed he had not only been on it but in it, head resting comfortably on the pillow. The light sprinkling of short black hairs showed where he had slept. "I think I'll sleep there in future," he told me seriously, "then you won't have to worry about being up here alone." Oh no you won't Hugo. I'm remembering to close all the bedroom doors in future.

Modelling knitwear in the bathroom, very niche

Our walks have been very limited because of the sore paw, but it's healing rapidly, and so we went down to the bottom of the hill this evening after his feed. He had his shoe on, and it didn't seem to bother him. At 4.30pm the light was already fading fast. It felt so good to be out, striding along the silent lane, when suddenly a barn owl swooped low over our heads, huge wings sweeping the air so close we could feel the draught. It curled around in front of us and glided past again, this time a little farther away. It's all part of the rich pattern of the countryside, one of its many delights. Hugo took no notice, but I allowed myself a long admiring stare. We'll have to set out on our walks earlier and earlier as winter approaches and engulfs us. Roll on those long, lazy summer evenings when the sky is literally the limit.