We left the Fox and Anchor, a splendid example of a “Vintage Inns” pub, for a gentle run up to Penkridge, this involved about six locks and they were so spaced that it was hardly worth my humans getting back onto my long kennel in between for much of the journey – my bearded one was driving – and I must have walked therefore about 5 or six miles. Probably more because this is how far they walked, bear in mind that when I am out walking I run back and forth, nose to the ground which is what I do, just in case, in case of what I have no idea. We had an interesting happening on this journey, there was a long kennel behind us that had caught up with us at the lock and two of my kind from the retriever tribe were clearly the owners and they were running alongside without their only human who was clearly driving. This seemed to me to be a lot of fun. As we entered a lock, the afore mentioned long kennel was waiting behind for his turn to enter after us but as we emerged, through a bridge hole, my two canine friends thought we were their long kennel and they followed us for a long way looking slightly perplexed. I kept eyeing them with suspicion. Eventually we found a lady who was being taken out by her pet walking in the right direction, and she persuaded these two bemused to follow her back to their own long kennel home. We then stopped at the Cross Keys in Penkridge and the two bearded one’s went to meet Mr Hobgoblin. Soon it was supper time and we all walked for about ten minutes to The Boat another canal side pub’ for a pie supper as they were on special, two for twelve pounds. Back then to my long kennel for a film on our new tele, the film Wimbledon. Love Douglas.
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