Night Errant

You'd think a maurading whippet in search of a hare, any hare, would take a break in a hareless territory and just chill. That's what I thought anyway, which was why I was astonished when he disappeared for an hour and came back with bleeding paws. What, I said! What? Where have you been? What have you done? He didn't answer of course, just left a trail of blood behind him. It's the usual injuries, dew pad torn on the front leg, rear pad lacerated. Nothing new. I've patched him up as well as I could, put a dressing on the back foot and left the front one open to the air to heal. It means the collar again, and my calves are already taking cover. Rabbits it must have been. Dratted furry things. I wouldn't mind but he's been good as gold on the extended lead walking around fields positively clogged with hares. It was me who thought he needed a run at the Woodland Walk. Ah well, at least he's alive.

I washed the worst of the mud off him and settled him down to rest. After half an hour or so his heaving subsided and he relaxed. I put his water bowl beside his bed, and like a drama queen he made a song and dance of stretching his neck out to drink without moving, without having to get up. Even in adversity he makes me laugh.

Italian conversazzione was eccellente though death was the macabre subject of much of the afternoon. Lesley's elderly father died suddenly yesterday, and last week my friend's son killed himself by crawling in front of a fast moving car. Two funerals to attend, one of a 92-year-old and the other a 32-year-old.

On my way home with my injured dog in the boot I ran out of petrol. It took me a moment to realise what had happened and I managed to coast onto the edge of a driveway before the car stopped. The A1120 is a busy road, long and straight, at least where I was. Cars drive very fast along there, and it's not somewhere you want to linger. I flicked on the hazzard light and hunted for my phone. Not there! No phone! I could count on the fingers of a tribe of octopuses the number of times I've left home without my mobile in recent months since it was impressed on me I should always carry it. I had to seek help, but I was outside a holiday home - big sign outside, Suffolk Coastal Holidays - no other houses in sight. Luckily for me there was a couple from Nuneaton staying there, and they loaned me their phone. I rang Ruth, explained my predicament, and within half an hour she was by my side with a full can.

Friends, eh. They go the extra mile. I've had a few experiences lately of favours beyond any reasonable call of duty and I've been touched by the kindness and generosity. Eventually we got home, another lesson learned. New car, strange petrol gauge, just an excuse. Don't let it happen again.