This morning I had to take the girls to Kate for their ten week trim and, of course, Boris came with us. As usual he made friends with everyone we passed while the girls ignored the same everyone.
As we climbed the hill leading up from the stream, a French bulldog caught Boris’ attention. They were busy making friends so I kept walking. Eventually he’d been too long so I looked around and called him.
“Boris!” I yelled and he almost immediately started running towards me. The French bulldog, almost as immediately, followed him.
When they both reached me, I patted Boris, telling him what a good boy he was. The French bulldog was looking for a bit of praise as well so I bent down and patted him.
“Boris!” I suddenly heard from behind me. The two dogs left me and ran off again.
I turned to see a woman pushing a stroller full of twins. The two dogs were circling her eagerly. I looked at her and smiled.
“Don’t tell me your dog is called Boris,” I said.
“Yes,” She replied.
“That explains it. So’s mine,” I laughed.
We walked together for a bit chuckling over the coincidence though I did say it would have been a better coincidence had we both had the same breed. She left us at the next exit, her Boris happily trotting along beside her.
We continued on our way towards the Hale exit where I had to hitch them all up for the walk along the roads. I’d been dreading this bit. It’s hard enough with the girls but adding on a big third dog makes it positively trepidatious.
I discovered that Boris isn’t very good walking on a narrow footpath beside a busy road. This made things even trickier but eventually and safely, we arrived at Kate’s where I left the girls. They may have sighed with relief as the door closed on Boris.
The walk back was a lot easier and Boris gladly went running off when I took his lead off.
Back at home there was a bit of emergency time shuffling needed as Susanne’s arrival shifted across the puppy collection. Eventually everything slotted together and, after Kate kindly dropped the girls home, Susanne collected everything together and also left, walking to the station with a reluctant Boris in tow.
The girls looked at me, Emma looked up at the park, Freya wagged her tail. How could I resist? I took them up the park for a short run around in the shade of the avenue of trees.
Back at home I made a frittata using up all the leftovers I had in the fridge. Given I hadn’t been shopping all week and Mirinda was coming home, this was the best option. And, if I do say so myself, it turned out pretty good.
I feel I should mention that we didn’t meet any more dogs called Boris for the rest of the day and Susanne made all her train connections. I can only assume that she also managed to find Rafi.