Joy

If we were giving DM a name now we know her it would be Joy.

The last week she's been, well "sick as a dog". Walking out the door slowly is all she had managed.

Appearing to have perked up we went for a run on the Moor after church.
She doesn't approach things cautiously, and had run mile, cowped her creels in the heather twice before I'd jogged a hundred yards. For her running on the moor is pure joy, and it's infectious.