Dogs in the Autumn-time. And the curious incident of the disappearing music.

Autumn and dogs - I have no idea what Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins think about the changing seasons. I suspect they think very little, their brains being mere slaves of their stomachs, but if they notice the cooler air, the permanently damp grass and the bare earth in recently ploughed fields, the following thoughts might momentarily elbow past dreams of dinner.

Or snacks - 'C'mon, we know that camera is not the only thing you have in your hand.'

Autumn is a time for dogs to

fine tune their getaway skills - escape scenario: apples all over the ground; apple-gatherer, basket in hand; muzzle sneaked between apple-gatherer's legs and apples snatched in quantities that only just defy death by choking.

act dead and extremely heavy when someone needs to access an oven.

practice soft-lipped-thievery when helping to pick brambles.

partake in sprint training in order to run away effectively when yelled at due to overzealous risk taking i.e. the guzzling of possibly poisonous but exceedingly delicious fungi.

develop selective deafness when told to go outside. And outside it is raining. And windy. And cold.

pretend to be bears. Sleeping all day when it's chilly outside is a magnificent idea.

become very watchful. Watching for that half eaten biscuit casually discarded on the coffee table. Or crusty ends of pizza. Or manuscripts of Grade 1 singing exam pieces. After all, if the squirrels can stuff themselves through the autumn in preparation for winter is there any reason why dogs can't do the same?

decide conclusively that trees are ridiculous creatures - first they inconsiderately shed their leaves all over the ground, then their arms fall off.

and finally, develop an impassive 'Yes-we-know-you're-mad-and-don't-understand-why-you're-abusing-vegetables-but we're-sticking-around-til-dinner' face.

Email time - 'Dear singing teacher, unfortunately Littlest's music is in the dog ...'

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Walking The Dog

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