We’ve had several walks together when Sarah has forgotten her watch/ distance counting thingy-ma-jig. It’s a wonder she can find her way out of bed some mornings, it really is. To combat her slips of the mind, she has come up with rather a cunning plan. Although one might have adorned she would have arrived at the idea a little sooner. Anyhow, the plan is to attach a spare watch/ step counting thingy-ma-jig to my harness so that a) we have a record of how far we have walked and b) we know how many steps I have taken! I reckon it’ll be billions in comparison to Sarah’s. I wish we could measure speed too. I’m sure I run much faster than anything on earth-the wind even! It's just a shame that we had no record of the walks we did at the beginning of the week. She's actually pretty good at taking me out each day now. Most odd!

We’ve seen the pigs, hmm, actually we’ve only seen one of them, I’m uncertain whether it is Bacon or sausage (or salt & Pepper as Sarah insists, you’ll recall me grumbling about that in an earlier blog?) It’s a little sad to see him all alone. I’d love to run in and give him a little bop on the head, so he knows he’s loved and not alone. Sadly, I think he might eat me if I were to venture into his field. His teeth are gigantic!

Instead, I ran after a red kite. Somewhere in the back of my head, I could hear Sarah calling out to me, but I turned a deaf ear to her racket. But as I ran across the field and got nearer to that massive aeroplane of a bird, I realised she might have a point. You may not have noticed–and I’m rather ashamed to admit this–but I’m not one who likes to admit I’m wrong, only on this occasion I was very wrong. Fortunately, I had the perfect ‘get out’ I slightly changed the direction I was running in, much like the Marathon runner who runs way beyond the tape, or the man who tips on something invisible in the street and then does a dainty run, as though it were completely intentional. I ran full pelt to the side of the pterodactyl, but it flew off long before I got near it, so it was all a waste of puff.

I’m hoping to see my lovely friend Sally tomorrow. Fingers crossed for that one. It all depends upon what time Sarah arrives back from her groomers, why she doesn’t use Jo (the lady who does my hair), is beyond me! She comes and collects me and takes me for a quick ride in her van. She clips and puffs and primps and preens until I am as handsome as I can possibly be–let's face it, being this handsome doesn’t come without hard work–and then she brings me home. It’s pretty wonderful to be honest. Sarah’s already told me she’s only having a quick trim, but what about her toenails, around her eyes, her beard in and her ears? Who’s going to do that, I wonder? There’s also some Macmillan work to be done. You can see where in the food chain I come, can’t you. Bless her, she means well enough. Although credit where it is due, I think we have completed the poetry book now. There was great excitement last night when she ordered the proof copy. Anyhow, time for my tea now and hopefully a fire. Although I’m so sleepy after my wonderful run, I don’t think I will need one to rock me gently towards the land of nod. Happy Thursday evening, good buddies.