Daisy picking

The bear is now 7. We think. He's a rescue dog and we don't know his history but we think that's how old he is. And in family tradition if a rescue dog is roughly the right age to have an April birthday then they get given April Fool's Day as their birthday. Which makes this bear 7. He's getting grey round the chops. He's slowing down (sometimes). He likes his bed, Matthew's bed, the chair, the sofa (so much for no dogs on the furniture) and has a comfy spot for every time of the day. When Matthew's away he pines. I don't know if it's for Matthew or for his bed, which Finn would usually spend most of the morning on.

This week he broke a tooth (one of the front top ones). And so yesterday he spent the day at the vets having an anaesthetic and having the tooth removed. So now he's feeling a bit sore and bit sorry for himself. And he's missing his daddy. And to add insult to injury he can't eat anything crunchy so his food is having to be presoaked and he has to suffer cheese as treats instead of boring biscuits. It's a hard life! Using cheese as a reward has it's drawbacks though - it's no good for recall as he doesn't want to go away from the cheese in the first place. We played a lot of 'find it' instead.

As soon as she saw the field of daisies Isabel wanted down. She had a lovely time feeling them, picking them and then holding my finger and walking the width of the field and then back again. She's not at all keen on walking unaided but she leaves you in no doubt when she wants to walk or where she wants to go.