Stress relieving therapy for myself involves daily exercise. So I arranged a hearty dog walk yesterday with Mr Metrosexual to Berry Head, a local beauty spot. There's a beautiful cafe there, The Guardhouse, within the grounds of a fort. It's got to be one of the most canine friendly establishments that I've ever been too. Now Mr Metrosexual, a retired mental health nurse, was having none of my current nonsense. 'Don't come too early'. I begged, thinking of my cosy bed where I'm prone to linger for the morning if I can possibly get away with it. A girl needs to catch up on her beauty sleep and after all aren't I supposed to be sick? 'I'll be round at 11.' he replied assertively. 'Can't you make it 11-ish?' I begged. My doorbell rang at 10:50.
He arrived with Baxter, his own dog, one of my four legged best mates. Surprise, surprise there was this one as well. Alfie belongs to Mr Metrosexual's mum. 'There you go,' he said passing me the suitably appropriate tartan lead. 'This is your one'. Cute! Staff at the cafe thought so too. Alfie got plenty of fuss and free dog biscuits. In fact he felt so welcome that, after I'd let him off the lead for some free range exercise outside, he snuck back and sat outside the door trying to gain readmission by himself. He was great company and there wasn'teven any of that nasty responsibility stuff that comes with pet ownership. No nasty scooping to do. He'd had a poo before he arrived!