One of My Handkerchiefs is Missing

Hats have been going mysteriously missing for a while now. There were two pink hats, a grey camouflage hat, a little hat with a red rim.

Yesterday before we went out for our morning constitutional I searched high and low for any hats. None could be found. Problem being that when we go out walking, Eloise goes in the backpack, and if she decided she doesn't want to wear her hat any more than she takes it off, then sometimes gives it to me to look after, but sometimes throws it away. Oh the joy of retracing our footsteps looking for chromatic anomalies on the ground. The camouflage hat ironically was always the easiest to spot. I assume she ditched the hat in the forest the other day while we were lost...

Did I mention that we went to Bunyaville Forest on Tuesday? We meant to go to Samford Forest as part of the ongoing dog exercise venue discovery effort. When we arrived there were horse boxes parked in the car park. We aborted and went to plan B, spotting horses out and about in the forest on the way, the kind of horses the dogs really hate and go mental about - i.e. ones with people on their backs.

So we pitched up at Bunyaville forest after driving around for a while because Squeaky had fallen asleep in the back of the car. We parked in a different place and set off into the woods, and happened across a circular path with signposts and informational placards on conservation, tree types, etc. We walked around the circular walk but peaked too early and tramped off in the direction I thought was back to the car, but things started to look increasingly unfamiliar, and one thing led to another....

Two and a half hours later we found our way out. This mishap needless to say was great for the dogs, but bad for Eloise's routine which was somewhat disrupted - to apocalyptic vomit-inducing effect - what with swimming to go to in the afternoon, and because I assume at least she lost her hat there and I didn't notice.

Which kind of brings me back to the point that there was no hat, so I had to improvise, in a Yorkshireman-going-to-the-beach kind of way.

Stylish, or what?

I said, stylish, or.... Oh, I see.

Anyway E didn't respond well and hated swimming, well the dunking parts anyway, and though she ate enormous quantities of Neil's spaghetti and salad, it all ended up on her bedroom floor later on.