Chasing Cars

A couple of final Duncombe shots just to box that off. Nice one of the sun coming up over the house Saturday morning and Megan doing her "Can I get in the car now because you'll want to be going home today won't you...." look

A nice one of me, exhausted, crashed out on a camping bag, and a nice one of Megan enjoying the back home warm and dry, and Mum's luvverly vase of lilies.

Bank Holiday this morning, so Dad's in work briefly but gets all afternoon off and takes us to the Rec. here. a couple of lads have parked a humungous Japanese 4x4 (one of those crew-cab silver Isuzu Warrior type ones). They are setting up a small replica of same - a £400 (we asked) radio controlled toy one, with high revvin', nitro-fuelled, glow plug engine which buzzes like a demented wasp and races along at what looks like about 45 mph. Amazing miniaturised technology - long-travel springs and dampers, automatic 2-speed gearbox etc.

Not many people about , so the guys were able to really gun it round the Rec in a series of sweeping figure-8's and (luckily) knew how to control it so they could whizz past reasonably close to us out walking (slowing down as they approached, growling past, accelerating away). This was too much like temptation for me, and for a young female Staffie called Missie, so we charged after it in all directions. It was too fast for us though, so we'd soon give up and wait for it to come back past.

Now there's a thing (said Dad) - First impressions - owner of the Staffie was one of those "yoofs" you'd sneer sideways at (or you would if you were as prejudiced as Dad!) - baggy trousers, shirt hanging out, walking his Staffie (!) at midday with a half-finished can of Special Brew in his hand all the way round. They got talking about the toy car, and then dogs, and he turned out to be a nice bloke - intelligent, very knowledge-able about Staffies, he'd got her for quite a lot of money from an abuser - Missie had cigarette burns on her where the "bad people" had tried to cure her of being "vicious".

She has not a "mean bone in her body" and is now the picture of health - a slightly built (she'd been starved while tiny) bouncing playful girl, very gentle with we three westies. He'd thought of breeding from her and had had an offer of a "good stud dog" but had been concerned at her tiny size and health and had decided against it. "Some people keep on having litters time after time, but it's not fair on the dog, is it?".

Favourably impressed - gives you hope, said Dad (rather sheepishly)

Deefer