I'm beginning to identify with the Inuit eskimos, after three days of a bitterly cold gale here on the North Kent coast. Even the dog doesn't want to go out and having dragged the poor creature down to the beach, one hundred yards away, yesterday, I only managed to survive five minutes before abandoning the adventure and retreating to the warmth of my study, closely followed by a dog worried by the cold and the possibility of migrating Polar Bears. If this is global warming, then it's missed us completely, this week anyway!

This morning, no encouragement at all will persuade the dog to go out for a walk. I produce the lead and then it runs and hides under the bed. Of the two of us it probably has the most sense.


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