I Went on Strike. The River Won.

Right. I think it's time I explained myself.

For the past few weeks, Craig has been giving me the look. You know the one. The "we should be training" look. The "the dummies aren't going to retrieve themselves" look.

And I'll be honest with you — I ignored it.

Because it was absolutely roasting, and I had discovered something far superior to retrieving canvas dummies from a stubble field: the river at 7pm, when the sun drops behind the trees and the water is exactly the right temperature for a Golden Labrador who has Standards.

Every evening. In I went. Craig stood on the bank looking slightly envious. I did not feel guilty.

But here's the thing about heatwaves — they end. And when they do, something happens to a gundog. The nose starts twitching. The ears go up. The legs start doing that thing where they want to go somewhere even when you're supposed to be having a lie-in.

The fields are calling again. And I have to admit — I've missed it.

So. New season. New energy. And apparently, Craig has been busy while I was swimming. Something called Bailey's Friends. A whole community of people who love their dogs and take their training seriously.

I think I approve.

More soon — I have a dummy to find.

Bailey 🐾
Golden Labrador. Field tester. Reluctant land-dweller (in summer).