Chickens in a box

I'm beginning to realise that being the owner of a German Shepherd, albeit a small one, definitely causes a stir. People either back away (parents of small children shielding their precious cargoes from any possible attack), or come up to us to tell Dolly how beautiful she is and how they've grown up with German Shepherds and have always wanted one. "That's a magnificent animal," said one man in the pub last Sunday. Fortunately, for the most part it's the latter that we tend to meet on our travels. Dolly may not fit in a handbag, but she certainly makes a statement. 😉

Well, figuratively speaking, all over the dining room. The stench was indescribable. An inauspicious start to the day and it took a long time for the smell to eventually dissipate. Not ideal when I have to work - and eat - in the same room. Meanwhile outside the full force of the elements took hold as the weather mirrored our building works and set itself on a path of total destruction. Given that we can only get into the kitchen by going outside the front door and round the front of the house, this made for an unrelentingly miserable day of being permanently wet and cold.  Dolly was most unimpressed by the rain and howled at me to make it stop. Unable to oblige, she proceeded to protest at my inability to control the elements by shredding a large section of carpet underlay.  Daisy also howled. In her case expressing her hatred of the dog, builders, weather, human race and the universe in general. As she reluctantly slunk into the house to avoid the downpour, I did...