Coming soon: the whole roll of pictures I took of guess who. He looks gorgeous, of course.

Getting the photos developed was something of an ordeal. Over a week ago I took the film to the place I normally go to. But there was a queue and I was illegally parked, so I thought well I get it done later. Hah, yeah right.

Finally on Monday, I zipped in to a Boots for the overnight service. But that wasn't going to be ready until Wednesday, so I said well ok I'll have the three-day service (there's no two-day). So this morning I went in on the way to get my hair done (my hairdresser's a dog man) and oh dear, they couldn't find the photos. According to the electronic system they had been developed, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They took a note of my name and number and said they'd ring.

After the hair appointment I went back to Boots. Still no sign of the pictures, and also no sign of the man who'd taken my details OR of my details. As I stood watching the assistant search the bin of packets of photos, a woman standing patiently waiting to be served said to me: "Don't you just wish you could have a look yourself?" And it's true, I had been thinking that very thing. You know how sometimes you can just tell someone's not being thorough? Frustrating. So I left my details again and went home.

Took Bertie for a burn up on the hill, where we met Chloe and her owner. Bertie and Chloe get on famously, though Bertie's inclined to sniff her bum just that little bit too long. Once she'd sorted him out on that score they settled down and played nicely, while the owner and I chatted. I'd taken my mobile up there, and sure enough Boots phoned to say they'd found the photos. Apparently the packet had slipped to the bottom of the bin, it was there all the time. Grrrr.

When I arrived half an hour later they were full of apologies and gave me a 50% discount, so I consented to be gracious. But it did make me wish I'd given in to my gut feeling and just barged in to look for myself.

Amusing Bertie story: At 2am this morning we were walking along the High St when something caught his attention in a big way. When I looked at what he was staring at, all I could see was a big splash of something darkish, like spilled soft drink. Bertie was acting spooked/interested/puzzled, sniffing and staring though, so I had a closer look. What was it? Dried blood? Fox pee? Alien pee?

I noticed there was a kind of texture to it and peered closer.

Ants. Dozens of tiny, tiny ants, barely visible.

It must have looked so weird, a woman and a dog at 2am, staring intently at an empty footpath, then the woman laughing out loud.