Dave T. Dog sleeps in a ball shape as church bells solemnly ring out in case we forget what day it is. Still weary from a bout of socialising that would test the Queen's patient graces he no doubt dreams of squirrels and all things meaty.
Yesterday, the only flames in sight were that of the grill as it cooked up snausages. No bonfires. And no fern seeds leading to treasure were found. But Dave T. still managed to follow tradition and have a BBQ by the sea surrounded by (new) friends and family. So after elbowing the hungry pack from the grill Dave managed to relax on his tartan blanket and watch the midnight sun sink into the horizon.
This time last year he was dancing round a maypole and drinking snaps until daybreak in Sweden, Dave prefers the calmer BBQ version, as the grey hairs starting to manifest on his eyebrows can attest to!
He's no young pup any more but perhaps some feisty lady dog has placed flowers under her pillow and will see him in her dreams tonight?
|Meat and beer. Dave's favourite meal.|
|Dave on a rock by the sea at Midsummer.|