On Tuesdays I usually go slightly further afield than usual to walk the dog, doing the weekly shop at a large supermarket on the way back. So, I was out there this morning, enjoying the bright sunshine and crisp November air, admiring the wonderful autumn colours which seem particularly spectacular this year, when the dog ran past me carrying a large dead rabbit. End of pleasant little reverie, and back to real life. Bertie the dog then had a brief altercation with another dog during which I managed to get the lead on him. The other dog’s owner did not look impressed at Bertie’s catch. I dragged him off into a secluded area of woodland and tried to bargain for the dead rabbit with him, but all the dog treat I had was not, in his opinion at least, a fair swop. In the end I took him back to the car (me feeling distinctly embarrassed and trying to avoid people, Bertie proudly trotting along displaying his prey), fortunately the old men playing golf saw the funny side of it (“caught your dinner, I see,” said one). I got him in the car and harnessed, working round this large dead rabbit all the while. Finally, he dropped it to have a drink of water, and I, quickly and triumphantly, with a huge sigh of relief, removed Cottontail to the nearest bin.