Walking as winter waxes wet

The dogs have collapsed in panting heaps since we arrived home from our walk five minutes ago. I had no intention, when we went out, of taking them twice as far as usual, but once out of the house, I felt an urge to stretch my muscles, and having dogs is always a good excuse for a walk. I would have taken the walking poles with me, but when I prepare to go out dogless, I can feel two pairs of accusing eyes on me as I reach for the poles! Certainly, I walk faster without the dogs; the poles add momentum to my stride while the dogs cause me to stop unexpectedly and frequently as noses twitch at the scent of a rabbit, a fox, a badger, a pheasant, a hedgehog, a field mouse, a rat, a weasel, a sheep, a pig, a goat, a horse or even a cat or another dog. They derive huge pleasure from swimming through the piles of fallen leaves, not even complaining if they find something utterly disgusting, dead and rotting in the crackling mounds - in fact, the more rotten, disgusting and dead it is, the happier they are, though I really don't enjoy removing the maggot-ridden corpses of small, furry animals from their mouths.

It seems that whatever has ailed me for the last few days is now on its way out (maybe I shouldn't tempt providence!), since for the first time in a week I'm not sniffing, I don't have a headache or sore throat, I'm not shivering and I don't feel nauseous. The need to walk is also suggestive of my health being back to what passes for normal at last.

Time to gird my loins and head off to brave the horrors of the supermarket while I'm feeling strong!