The H word.

Holidays. Shudder. Even the word makes me feel queasy.  Going on holiday was like taking a bunch of pups off to some new park, full of smells, the hint of the odd rabbit and plenty of trees to piss against.

Plus, of course, the real hounds who delivered their own brand of disruption effectively most trips.  (Little aside here to mention the infamous time that Stan decided to have a wee on Petey’s designer sweatshirt on the beach in Pembrokeshire. Sigh).

So a gentle, informative, visual start to this new thread…

1. Find space.

 

That’s it.

 

 

 

 

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