Gus has been one of my walking companions for years. I can't fault his enthusiasm but he's messy; his bushy tail tends to ensnare sticks that other dogs might carry in their mouths. And that's on top of the mud and sand and salt water he brings home. And yet, if I walked six kilometres, Gus must have covered ten.
There were enough Sunday morning walkers out in unusually mild conditions that I could eavesdrop on passing snippets of conversation:
"Stone studies? No, no, film studies. Film studies are an Arts degree ..."
"... like mental health funding and assessments ..."
"... and you send them an email by pressing this."
Some of the local rubbish bins attempt inspiration, one stencilled "A day without laughter is a day wasted".
On White Rock beach, we listened to a clarinet being played in the changing area. We've heard it here before. Gus is not as limber as once he was so we watched people who threw, batted and slingshotted tennis balls for their dogs.
Another 6 km leaves just 480 km to cover in 17 weeks.
There were enough Sunday morning walkers out in unusually mild conditions that I could eavesdrop on passing snippets of conversation:"Stone studies? No, no, film studies. Film studies are an Arts degree ..."
"... like mental health funding and assessments ..."
"... and you send them an email by pressing this."
Some of the local rubbish bins attempt inspiration, one stencilled "A day without laughter is a day wasted".
On White Rock beach, we listened to a clarinet being played in the changing area. We've heard it here before. Gus is not as limber as once he was so we watched people who threw, batted and slingshotted tennis balls for their dogs.
Another 6 km leaves just 480 km to cover in 17 weeks.
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