We're trying to take George a bit further each time we go out. Today we walked alongside the river a little. George quite enjoyed it except when I stop unexpectedly and he walks into the back of my legs. If he could walk any closer he would. In fact he'd really rather be inside my wellie.
He hasn't quite got the idea of 'fetch' yet. I throw the stick, he sits down and looks at me.
I run and fetch the stick, and he follows me.
I throw the stick; he sits down and looks at me.
I give up after five attempts.
On the way back I tell him about the wuffles who live down drains and eat yucky things. 'Puppies who eat horsey poo become wuffles and live down drains.'
'I don't want to live down a drain.'
'Don't eat any more horsey poo then!'