Early morning

 We set off a little earlier today, lots to do before visitors later. Although term time, it is quiet, the village school is stuffed full of mini students. We cross the cobbles and slip around a traffic free tarred road. The muddy puddles reflect the silvery blue sky and I swear I can no longer smell the metallic scent of winter rather I am picking up the delicate green fragrance of growing grass.

The sky is a soft blue, still fresh and clear and the trees are filled with birds trying to out sing each other - in places they are almost deafening.  Trialling - with my heart in my mouth and my hands ready to grab - Willow off lead. She trots ahead on dainty collie feet, her nose just millimetres off the ground as she inhales her route. Suddenly a 'stickier' smell stops her in her tracks and she stands taking in the odours and their messages.

At a particularly muddy field partially swimming beneath huge puddles, she is still off lead. I whistle and she returns, I praise, she trots off, I whistle - she returns. We repeat this recall along the boggy reeds and sunken pathway until we meet another walker with her dog. So many of the village walkers are women and it seems we have been chatted about on the doggy-grape-vine. They comment how good she is behaving, how well she is getting on and what a lovely girl she is. I swell with pride at my silly dilly foxling of a dog.

Having slid and sploshed our way over the wet field, we meet another track, this time crunchy with loose stone and sticky mud. Again she is off lead, again recall, praise and release, recall, praise and release. The lane turns into a sunken holloway with chicken pens on one side and high hedges with sheep fields on the other. Water trickles noisily down through the stones and birds rustle and sing through the scruffy hedges of hawthorn, bramble, blackthorn, holly and rowan. The lane is cooler, the sun is yet to reach the ground, however shafts of soft light stream through the higher branches.

We turn on to a little lane which narrows down to not much wider than a pack horse and I call Willow back and signalling silently to her to sit, I slip her collar on so we can cross the village road.  Back down in to the village and another very short stint off lead with a recall, silent sit and replaced collar - homeward.

My heart is singing. This little dog is blossoming. 

Now - all I have to conquer is Willow trying to round up the cat ..... the cat is not keen on being thought of as a lamb. She prefers to be thought of as a Polar Bear (she has the temperament on one TBH)

The Polar Bear in question