That Wet Dog Look

This morning P and I and cocker spaniel Bertie went for a walk. First of all a section of the Monsal Trail, then dropping down to Millers Dale and the river Wye before returning to our starting point.

Bertie is thirteen years old but still thinks he’s a puppy. He’s a dog with a mission when it comes to walking besides a river. The mission is to find lost balls, and that’s all that is on his mind. It’s all about scent. In consequence every nook and cranny of the riverbank deserves exploration, if a tree has fallen in to the river it has to be thoroughly explored, and if he has to enter the river itself that must be done (he was moving constantly and very difficult to photograph). The river itself is fast flowing, and there were one or two occasions when he was in danger of being swept down the river as he hasn’t the sense to realise that the place to get out is behind him. People love their dogs, but they are daft as brushes.

Towards the end Bertie found an old tennis ball. Mission accomplished, resulting in lots of tail wagging and ball throwing.

Extra - a very early wild flower - new growth emerging from the water, Butterbur.