Post-America Run

Well the Master has been away on business for a week and so my running had basically stopped. However he reappeared on Saturday and I thought I'd been in for a really long and muddy run - but none of it I'm afraid. A gentle walk through the fields was all I got. That's actually all I had last week with the Mistress. Pathetic. Still, he made up for it yesterday. We went up the Forest again but this time, prearranged with my German Shepherd mate. Did we have a blast, or what? I found some foxes' doo-da and rolled in it. Then so did my mate and we ran off in the woods. It didn't seem to matter; the Master was regaling his running partner on the merits of Achor Steam beer over Heinekin Lager and the best way to win at black jack in Vegas. He wasn't interested in what we got up to. I got so muddy that when we got back after his 5 miles (about 25 for me) he wouldn't let me get back in the car until he'd thrown five buckets of water over me from the tap at the cafe nearby. Even so it barely dented the surface and so I had to serve my pennance back home, with a very lengthy scrubbing session with freezing cold water and that dog shampoo that smells sickly, and believe me, tastes even worse. I'm then shut away in a room to dry off for a few hours. I'm a bit like a cake really. When I'm finally done I'm let out, ready to please and entertain as always.