When The Dog and I venture out each morning, our path is straight and uncomplicated – until we reach the gate. Here we are faced with a choice. Shall we turn left or shall we turn right. From time to time I may have a particular stretch of hedgerow that contains some bud about to burst, seed head about to open or berry about to ripen and I want to visit it on a regular basis. For most of our diurnal dawdles though, our direction really doesn’t matter to me.
I often stop at the gate and peer in amongst the bushes there, waiting to see if The Dog has any preference. She very often has, and while I prevaricate, she will set off in one direction or the other, as if it was really important to take this route, this day. Along the way, there are certain points that she absolutely has to visit. The routine is fixed. First you stand and look. Next, you, very gingerly, smell a couple of places, this can develop into a protracted exercise. Finally, we leave a message for whoever comes along next.
Dogs sense of smell is far more discriminating that ours and I often wonder just what latest news she is tuning into at these popular points.
Today we passed the Telephone Guys stringing wires up a pole. “Installing our Gigabit Internet, then?” I asked with friendly cynicism. “No, ” they replied, “That’s not ’til the end of the year.”
Apparently it’s true. We will be getting fibre to our cabinet soon. That’ll teach me.