My spaniel zig-zags, nose to the ground, tail wagging; circling me as I stroll along the woodland path. The country park, once a private estate, is lush with vegetation.
“Craaw-chuck.” A pheasant. The dog’s behaviour switches. He freezes, ears up, one paw raised.
“Craaw-chuck.” He’s off, speeding towards the source of the call, pelting towards the ornamental long pond. The water is covered with lime-green algae. So thick that Barney continues to run mistaking it for solid ground.
Splash.
He’s a swimmer, so in no danger. I laugh aloud. There’s no-one to share my amusement, just a wet, panting dog.
“Craaw-chuck.” A pheasant. The dog’s behaviour switches. He freezes, ears up, one paw raised.
“Craaw-chuck.” He’s off, speeding towards the source of the call, pelting towards the ornamental long pond. The water is covered with lime-green algae. So thick that Barney continues to run mistaking it for solid ground.
Splash.
He’s a swimmer, so in no danger. I laugh aloud. There’s no-one to share my amusement, just a wet, panting dog.
