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Big city blues

It all started so well. The sun was shining, the car ride wasn’t too long, and the first stop resulted in a long, muddy walk in the countryside.

The second stop, after an even shorter car journey, was for the humans to enjoy lunch at a waterside pub which thoughtfully provided bowls of fresh water for parched pooches. After my earlier exertions, I was quite happy to snooze in a sunny spot under the table.

The third stop was when it all started to go wrong. I hopped out of the car to find myself in a car park in Truro, which I remembered only too well from my last visit there for all the wrong reasons. On that occasion, a noisy bin lorry had scared me silly and I’d come home a nervous wreck.

With that in mind, I was only too happy to be on my lead for once and stayed as close to my humans as I possibly could without tripping them up – or anyone else for that matter, which is easier said than done when you are confronted by masses of legs coming at you from all directions on narrow pavements!

As well as the crowds of people, there are all sorts of unfamiliar noises: rattling shutters, slamming doors, a car back-firing (that made me jump, I can tell you!) plus the noise of young humans squealing and shouting, which jangled my nerves.

The sheer pace of it all means there’s no time to stop and sniff anything and it’s all too much for me. I was longing for the comfort and quiet of home and the minute we got there and the car door opened, I shot out and made straight for my bed where, I am happy to say, I was able to curl up by the warm fireside with just the murmur of my humans’ voices in the background.

There’s a lot to be said for a quiet country life!

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