A Sloe Kind Of Day

Dear O'H dear,

One of the things I like about having a dog are the random encounters with strangers and the snapshots of their lives. Long enough to be interesting but short enough to prevent it descending into the chore of small talk.

This morning, Murphy and I encountered a very eccentric man who appeared from a bush. He saw my look of surprise and felt the need to offer an explanation.

In an accent which would have been perfect for the BBC in the 1950's, he enthusiastically explained that he was collecting sloe berries.

'My wife makes sloe gin. It's absolutely delicious'

Then he toddled off in the opposite direction, chatting to his little dog…

'Now come along Barky. Orf you go to find that ball. It's not my job to fetch. It's your own fault if it is lost. You know how this works. I throw the ball; you fetch it. Good boy Barky. Orf you go…'

In the evening, the Prince and I went to the Hermitage Bar to catch up with a friend, Paddy, who is visiting from the Falkland Islands. Like all of the Prince's Irish friends, he has been nicknamed Paddy (with the exception of Patrick; he is called Patrick).

The Prince and Paddy were at school together. He is a lovely man whose last job meant spending a lot of time in South Georgia. The pictures from his workplace have hundreds of penguins in them! He recently made the decision to leave his job as it means being away from home for long periods of time and set up a gin distillery. I should hook him up with Barky's owner.

One of the couples out last night has recently married. Their teenage children decided to gift them a puppy which had been born on their wedding day. The pup is a cross between a Japanese Spitz and a Cocker Spaniel.

They described it as a 'Cockspit'.

C