Sometimes life starts going a little bit too fast, like one of those old go-carts that your dad built for you made out of orange crates, an old kitchen chair and some pram wheels. The bit of hairy string that he put on for steering burnt the palms of your hands as you whizzed sideways down a hill, but atleast the pain took your mind off the fact that there were no breaks. For the last two weeks my life has had no breaks and even the dogs have been hairing about like nutters. They have been off after rabbits and twice I lost them in the back field, just as I thought that I had cracked it with their training. The thing about a sight-hound is that they never stop looking and they never stop seeing, especially the little white bob-tails of rabbits as they dash off over the hill. The worst thing is after a couple of days of running off I have to go back to lead walks with them for a while and thats no fun for anyone. What is a running dog if it can't run? Still, I walked them for five miles today and they have been cockroaching on the sofa with more than the usual intensity the whole day. Mac only slid down onto the floor to allow his tongue to dangle in his food bowl and lazily chew down some food. It looks as though we might all need a rest....
