Mum and I have settled on Salcey Forest for our Christmas walk. I have emailed all my friends to tell them. Some have already said they’re coming which is great. I do like going for walks with my friends. Some of us end up shouting to each other but then Mum tells me off. But we have to make sure we’re heard. Mum says everyone can hear us and may not want to.
I’ve never been to this forest before, but I heard from one of Ari’s sister’s that it’s good and the paths are well marked. They have to be easy to follow or Mum has a tendency to get lost. It’s bad enough when we’re on our own, but when she leads a whole group of us the wrong way it’s a bit more embarrassing.
It’s one of those things. The more someone tells you not to walk on the wet cement, the more you want to do it. Partly, it’s about the thought you could leave a pawprint there for the next generation to wonder about and partly it’s because I’m just a little contrary. If someone says don’t, I want to test out why that might be, but Mum says that’s bad. It’s not exactly that I’m just naughty, although I probably am. It’s more that I need to understand things.
Sadly, in this instance Mum is taking no chances and we are being excluded from the areas of wet concrete. She is such a killjoy. Mind you I did hear one of the builders say there was a risk it would burn my paw and I don’t think I’d like that. I guess I can also see Mum’s point that she doesn’t want it walked into the house and all over the carpet. Mum says it’s much harder to clean up than plain mud.
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