You can't whistle when you panic

A bit of a mizzle today, but it cleared up for Archie and I to go for a walk - JR popped up to school to catch up on gossip to get organised for next week. Gosh those holidays went fast!

I took my new whistle and used it to call Archie back. Brilliant! He cottoned on quickly, and it does save shouting. He chased seagulls relentlessly and pointlessly, but he must have run miles! And he was often really far away when I whistled, so he heard it right away.

He did have a play with a big Labrador, who wasn't interested. But he suddenly ran off to have another go after they'd gone. The lab and her owner were, by this time, quite near the path which is quite near the road, and was several hundred metres away. I slightly panicked and blew the whistle. No sound. Even more frantic blowing, accompanied by silence. Full Panic Stations! I realised that in my flurry, I had covered the bits that needed to be uncovered in order to whistle. When I did manage to make a loud whistle, he came charging back to get his high value fishy treat. Lesson learned.

Every day almost every day, he gets a brush on his mat and has his teeth brushed, sort of. He doesn't mind it so much now.

He's now sleeping with his head on my foot, something he invariably does, and it's very endearing, though means I can't move to switch the Archers off...

No culture today.