Whatever Happened To Summer?

Whatever happened to summer? Suppose the same as what usually happens to it.

It’s turned foul, almost Windermere Triathlon sort of weather. It puts paid to tonight’s dog training which is an outdoor session. Cancelled. The wimps. I might as well have trained as the boys need taking out anyway. In fact MD goes straight out in the garden and starts chewing on of the hurdles, in the rain, so he’s keen to get started. I think. Doggo watches from the open doorway, staying undercover. He’s not quite so keen.

It would be too dangerous to train in the garden, not for the dogs, for me, I’d slip and put my foot down one of the many holes MD has dug. So I take them on the park instead. Doggo grudgingly joins us, walking along the side of the house, sheltering from the rain for as long as possible before we start the walk to the park.

Later, L and I check out the new pool at Djanogly. I ought to be in the gym really, doing my July session to earn by £50 council bribe for going once a month. L is worried we won’t get it because the new government has announced that funds are to be withdrawn from the anti-obesity campaign that this was part of. The council received the money up front, so we should get it...

The laned swim at Djanogly is weird. The lanes are double width which means it's less a case of swimming up and down, more a case of swimming round and round. Very disorientating. A bit like swimming in Windermere I guess but without the current, the rain and the steamboats trying to run you over.

(Monday 12th July)

We All Have To Start Somewhere

The organisers of last weekend’s Newton’s Fraction Half Marathon have sent out a survey. One of the questions is would you object to a bottle of beer in your goodie bag next year? Errrr, no. What a daft question.

I decide that tonight, despite it being Crufts tomorrow, I will take Doggo training rather than rest him. Mainly to try and get his confidence up after a bad session last Wednesday and after his mugging on the park yesterday. He does well, so I think it was a good idea. Won’t know for sure until tomorrow...

I would of course have gone to training anyway for MD’s sake, had he not been injured. He didn’t help matters by chewing off his protective sock whilst he was in the garden. He’s not popular; it was supposed to keep his wounded paw clean.

All the same I give him a brief run at training, just to see how he is. Not bad actually but he did seem to be favouring one paw over the other when it came to taking jumps. So he now looks unlikely to be competing at his next event, which is this weekend. Which isn’t on the warm, dry carpet of the NEC at Crufts but in a cold, damp horse arena somewhere in Lincolnshire but we all have to start somewhere.