:: bertie goes awol

On today's walk I was distracted by Taffy's long-winded dissertation on how he could manage to insulate his static caravan, and Bertie took the opportunity to have another go at finding the black and white cat that lives up The Forbidden Path. There's a gate at the top of the path, but there's also a gap at the side of the gate just wide enough for a skinny greyhound to slither through.

Once I'd whistled and yelled long enough I stumped off up the path myself in pursuit. Through the gate is a little private lane for a row of railway cottages. At the gate of one of the cottages was a woman I'd met before. "Are you looking for Bertie?" she asked. "He's out the back. Just come on through my house."

So, carrying my bulging black binbag and litter-picker (it was a working walk), I walked through the back door, down the passage, through the livingroom, greeting the grandchildren as I went, out the front door, across the garden (large rabbit looking nervously out from hutch) and out the front gate. No sign of Bertie.

I called and whistled and yelled and he hove into view. But then he caught more cat-scent and was off down someone else's garden path. More yelling later and I finally had him collared. So that's another section of the walk where he has to be leashed now.

I've been very busy lately, doing all kinds of dull and domestic things, and a few more interesting things. Which I may write about later on. Right now I'm off home.