Yesterday morning dawned foggy and frosty, minus four degrees first thing and still minus two at nine o'clock. The orchards and Poplars disappeared into the fog and the whole area had a mysterious and other worldly atmosphere.
Terriers just don't care what the weather is like and the routine rummaging continued in the undergrowth, the dyke walls and then into the dyke itself for Barney who could see apples just under the paper thin ice.
The farmer, out checking his crops, loomed out of the fog at one point and asked why we left the walking harness on the two terriers; then when I hauled Barney out of the dyke he understood why. It's a good hand-hold to grab whether they're in water or disappearing down a hole.
