Bad hair day

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Lost* the ball in the park, didn’t I, so a big search was instituted which involved me rustling in the undergrowth, diving into bushes and leaping around a wildflower meadow which is going to seed.   Ended up with hundreds of sticky burrs and seeds in my coat.  Yuk.

Didn’t manage to find the ball, or the Chuck It one I lost in the same place last week.

I had a good brush when we got home but there a still loads to come out.  At least my ears are clear.

  • As we were leaving, having searched everywhere, another walker shouted she’d found it.  In a patch of long grass.  How did I miss that when my breed is renowned for its prowess in this field?  Field, field – who said field?

I have NOT had the Easter eggs!

  She’s in a right state (like the house which is having an inside paint job) – lost the Easter eggs she bought weeks ago.  It wasn’t me, I have categorically NOT had the Easter eggs.  Now if I could get back home from bootcamp and be sent on the trail – a little chocolate offering to get my nose in tune – I may be able to hunt them out.  Personally I think she should write this sort of thing down, like she did so she could find the Christmas wrapping paper after buying half price in the sales (on top of big chest).

If you have any ideas (no, not in dining room cabinet, spare wardrobe, shed or present drawer), please leave a reply.