Mystery of the disappearing footpaths

Yesterday, Mum and I went for a walk. One of our usual walks. One where we normally amble along, smelling things, chasing bits of bread or carrot, upsetting the odd pheasant, and seldom meet anyone else. We follow the path in a wide circuit until we get home, have some food, curl up and go to sleep. (Mum doesn't curl up and go to sleep, that bit's all me!) So it's an activity that doesn't require much thought. Until yesterday ...

Here's the sign for the footpath. But where's it gone?

I'm sure it was here last time.

Maybe I can sniff it out. Got to get Mum home somehow. My tummy's starting to rumble.

Think I'm onto something here

Yep, definitely found it. But just when I was getting confident that the food was only minutes away ... this happened

Pssst ... Mum, there's no path! You don't seriously expect me to follow you. I'm a law abiding dog and besides, the farmer's bigger than me. If his big tractor-thingy ripped up the path, just think what it could do to me. Oh, you've got a clue for me ... okay, I'll come as long as it's a tasty clue.

The stile! Not exactly tasty, but at least it means there was once a path here.

We eventually got home; (I) ate, curled up and went to sleep.

The disappearing footpaths are still a mystery, though. Mum says our feet will bring the paths back. What!!! The only things my feet bring back are lumps of sticky mud on wet days, and bits of grass on dry days. How are my feet going to bring a path and where will they bring it from? Humans can be so confusing. And so wrong sometimes!

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Colour, Delacroix, flochetage and why don't we all have a go at inventing words

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Curlews, summer skies and walking in circles.

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Walking The Dog

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