The worst part was negotiating my way through the flooded lane. Going, I clung to the edges but afterwards it occurred to me that allowing for the road's camber it should be shallower in the middle. But there's something innately scary about walking right through the middle of a puddle. There's always that fear that it may be concealing a big hole or a troll trap. Fortunately George volunteered to go first.
Hence George is the only dog who can come back from the beach absolutely filthy.