Throughout this recent warm spell we’ve tried to keep Harry as cool as possible, even though he insists on lying in the sun at every available opportunity trying to roast himself. A great place to go is the chiller section of our local supermarket and I confess we’ve spent more time than is normal there. Our fridge is now groaning under the weight of all the goodies we’ve had to purchase.
Even free runs are planned around where there might be shade. Now that the trees are in leaf, the nearby ancient woodland seemed like the perfect place, but we’d forgotten about Harry’s keen interest in flowers, and the bluebells were in full bloom. There wasn’t much free running done, it was more a case of I’ll just sit here and smell the flowers.
Note. This post was originally called Harry and the Bluebells but it sounded too much like a well known Philadelphia soul band from the 1970s. And besides Harry doesn’t really sing. At least not in public.