Butter wouldn't melt! I’ll begin with the good news – we’ve reached £33,000! The response to the second article in the Daily Telegraph has been wonderful and every day a fresh crop of envelopes has fallen on the mat, each containing a cheque or note. We even had a knock on the door from the postman, who’d read about Granny Trek in the local paper and wanted to contribute. Added to the £15,000 benefits in kind, we’re beginning to edge near £50,000. My first batch of e-mails to U3A Walking Group Leaders in the south west has already yielded two replies. Both have expressed an interest in mini Granny Treks, but we must wait to see the reaction of their fellow-walkers. There are a lot of names on the list that don’t use e-mail, so I need to wind myself up to start telephoning. How difficult it is, once you ‘let go’. There’s been too much dosing off on the settee after lunch and not enough getting on with things. The bad news is that my right thigh muscle is causing trouble. I was wagging my tail for the first couple of weeks after I stopped walking, as there seemed to be no ill-effects. However, last weekend a very nasty pain set up in my leg. The doctor is confident it isn’t serious, but it’s going to be x-rayed as a precaution. I also had to part with five bottles of blood for testing - phew! There can’t be much left in there! Rudi and Fritz continue in robust health and bound along joyfully when we’re out each day. Rudi has always been a swift runner – a joy to watch as he streaks across the fields. Fritz has shorter legs and has never been able to keep up, so he’s generally miles behind, stopping at every delectable sniffy spot he can find. When they were puppies, they were like two soft cuddly teddy bears and evoked oohs! and aahs! from everyone – including us. Imagine, then, the horror when Fritz first pounced into a hedgerow and we saw the tail of a mouse disappear into his mouth! I was horrified – my sweet little bundle couldn’t possibly do anything so savage. But of course they’re descended from two breeds – one herding and the other hunting. The hunting instinct is certainly strong and after nearly nine years of living with them, we’re used to small rodents supplementing their diets. This aspect of their behaviour did almost cause a disaster when Julia and I were staying with Alan and Jean Hardy at Castle Camps in South Cambridgeshire. Jean had been telling me about their elderly cat, who was very thin – despite being fed all manner of titbits – and wasn’t really in the peak of good health. The dogs were in the motor home, which was parked in the front garden. They appeared to be dead to the world, as they were both tired and it was extremely hot. However, with the door left open just the minutest crack, they suddenly burst out of the van and shot after the poor cat, right through the hedge and into next door’s garden. I couldn’t believe it! What a desperate situation. This lovely couple were being so very kind to us and now the dogs might have killed their cat! The old puss may not have been as sprightly as she once was, but she must have found a burst of energy from somewhere, as – thank heavens – she lived to see another day and Fritz and Rudi didn’t even get a whisker from her tail. |