farting

Rowlf seems to be farting - in his sleep - even more than usual this evening. He polished off a roast dinner earlier today. Maybe the gravy is having an impact.

He had a great day. Sal and I slept in The Valley last night; we were at the in-laws for Mothers Day (you can guess my views on this, and other, Hallmark Hols) and the valley is my name for the V-shaped sofa bed that we shared. After the initial shock of rolling down hill into my wife I managed to get a reasonable sleep by facing outwards, one leg own the slope wedging me on the upslope. Sal hardly slept at all, and my sleep will have pissed her off no end. So I decided to take Rowlf for a morning adventure.

We started by driving - Rowlf hates the car and drools a lot, looking disturbingly rabid - over the Ridgeway and down into Terrigal. The Ridgeway is a hill and valley affair that today looked fabulous with sun shining through mist through trees. A lovely photo subject...but not with the hound, so we drove on through to the coast. Terrigal has a lovely off-lead area and Rowlf had a mental sprint with a border collie whose owners, happy to have heir hound belt around on its own, continued their bucks fizz breakfast...one mother was having a lovely mothers day brekkie.

When I thought Rowlf had had enough - that's a lie, when I wanted a coffee - we headed into town for a coffee that I drank while sitting on an ocean front bench. Rowlf, once he realised he could not tow me, the bench and the part of Australia it was attached to after him as he went for the guls, la at my feet. What a fabulous start to the day. The sun was out, the sky was blue, I had my dog with me...

A few people had their dogs on the beach in clear breach of the council rules that clearly stated, on signs, no dogs on the beach. I'm a conformist, so I did not take Rowlf on the beach. Well, not that part of the beach. I drove north to Wamberal, spoke with a returning, local surfer about the local attitude to dogs on the beach, got what I considered the all clear and took the hound to the sand. He loved that, and loved the splach in the ocean and then in the lagoon behind the beach.

Right, interesting stuff on tele, more to follow.

Rowlf, incidentally, has not farted for a while.