Yesterday we thought it would make a change to go for a different walk before the auction across the fields near a village on route.
Oz has reached the age where he can be less than enthusiastic about walks unless there is some specific motivation. Or food. He's had a troublesome time over the last few months and at one point was on as many pills as my Mum, but now he's been diagnosed with pancreatitis he's on a completely different diet of fresh fish and Chappie low fat chunks which he devours with relish. I'm not sure if the relish is allowed so we sometimes allow him gusto.
On the way back from this very short walk a Labradoodle appeared round the bend with a lady owner. Oz suddenly found his mojo and sped across to check the leggy blonde out - if there is one thing guaranteed to get his tail wagging it's a leggy blonde bitch.
As he approached, another 10 identical Labradoodles appeared and a complete football team of long haired preening cross poodles was in view, not to be confused with Chelsea F.C..
Oz stretched himself up to his full height of 11 inches and wagged his way round like Bernie Ecclestone at a Supermodel convention. Sadly I didn't manage to get my phone out for a picture until he was on his way back.