I had just about got them not under control but manageable when we had to walk past the house of George's arch-enemy. He spotted us and began throwing himself against the window and barking and growling like the hound of the Baskervilles.
At this, George who had been happily sniffing an old bottle decided that maybe Holly had the right idea after all and set off at a pace that Usain Bolt would have been proud of.
I was at the other end of the road before I'd regained what little control I'd had. Panting and puffing and yelling, 'You stupid dogs!! Stop will you!!!'
No wonder the neighbours all avoid me ...
P.S. Did you notice my post title? Now I am dithering what to post for my 3,000th. I feel it should be of significance and meaningful as so many of my posts - like this one - are. Shall I look back over my past writings? Or look to the future? Or just post a photo of Grand-daughter?! This could take me some time.