I can’t believe how much Dusty’s grown. Neither can poor Fizz. She says she’s sure he didn’t used to weigh half a ton when he jumped on her. I was feeling sorry for her, thinking maybe she wasn’t enjoying the rough play, until the other night in the garden when she crept up behind him, grabbed his backside with both paws and bit his bum!
He’s met a few more dogs off the lead and every time he whimpers and yelps and hurls himself at the feet of the owners waving his legs in the air. Usually they oblige and give his tummy a tickle and occasionally they’ll give him a treat. Hm, I wonder how scared he really is. Maybe he’s just figured out the minute he goes all loopy people make a big fuss of him!
On Sunday he met a new little dog. She ran up to him barking, wanting to play and he did his usual wimp act. The owner was ever so apologetic and said she hoped it wouldn’t give him a complex. I had to explain that he always acts like that and her dog had done nothing wrong.
He loves to have something to carry as we walk along, so I let him have the tennis ball. It stops him picking up stones and other such undesirables!
He found his first stinky ditch yesterday. I thought we’d have to fish him out, but he managed to get out on his own – and back in – and out – and in – and out…
There are a lot of these down near the marshes. No, not the rape fields, although there are quite a few of those which make for sore throats and tight chests (especially when you take the path right through the middle of one – I won’t be making that mistake again). I mean the webs in the bushes.
Some more – a bit closer.
They are the caterpillars of brown tail moths I believe and not to be messed with!