Friends, collies, sedate Irish Setters,
Oh dearie me. It’s all gone pear shaped – big time. It’s that blasted nose of mine, getting me into trouble again. It just got the better of me again, that brute instinct. It rules my head and wrings B’s heart out to dry, after all our hard work too. Honest, I really do try hard, despite the dizziness. You’ve probably guessed by now that I took off after one of the woolly things again.
No one told me off, or scolded me, but it was back on the lead and the big, big atmosphere of the hills was dark with despondency; gloom weighed heavily as far as the horizon. B and David lost the spring in their step and I tried very hard not to keep tugging on the lead. That’s not easy with all the smells around.
Then, of course, the Wainwright Mountains were roaring at me again, even if I just peeped at a woolly thing. It’s all horrible again and I’m so upset.
Am I really such a bad dog?
Hoping for sleep
Love Ben xx