Alfie: I really would miss Spring, if ever we went back to Ossyria! Breathe in! Spring smells different here in wet Canterbury. Plus we get some Abel time.
Ajax: Hmmmph. Don’t you get fed up of walking in the cold? Even Will’s neighbours noticed I was shivering. I could have stayed curled up on Mrs T’s sofa.
Alfie: Are you missing pod life then? I don’t remember any scraps of roast lamb there.
Ajax: True. But …
Alfie: But … Will has got himself out to give us a walk on a cold, wet morning. How can we say Thank you?
Ajax: By turning for home now?
Alfie: Don’t be soft! Now where’s he taking us? Are you telegraphing him? A short cut before the fox’s den? No, come on, pull this way. And stop.
Will, responsive to the dogs’ wishes, walked on another ten metres, then stopped while they sniffed around for the fox.
Will: White violets! Fancy that, just four yards away from the path I cycle along and I’ve never noticed them before in thirty years! Thank you guys!
And with that they turned for home.