so noteworthy that if I’d had a snooze when I got back home, I’d be tempted by now to think that it was a dream.
The Dad took me down to the lough this afternoon, and I made my usual convivial, if futile, attempts to befriend the ducks. Then, from under the bridge, glided two small boats, laden with …. dogs! There were a couple of humans with them, and the dogs had very tactfully allowed them to think they were in charge, but it was quite clear who were the true leaders of the expedition. There was even one hairy terrier who looked like me, though when we got into conversation he confessed that he wasn’t really a Border, but only some upstart breed called a Fen Terrier, not yet recognized by the Kennel Club. I tried to cheer the poor chap up (actually he seemed perfectly cheerful, as well as dog might, having led such an intrepid voyage) while trying to avoid revealing that I’d never heard of the Kennel Club. I suppose it must be some kind of society for dogs with outdoor sleeping arrangements. Perhaps I ought to found a Bed In The Kitchen Club. We’d let Fen Terriers join, especially ones with their own boats.