I've taken recently to driving an alternative route home, one that skips the sluggishness and tedium of the M50 at rush-3hours and winds instead through the countryside, past hills and trees and lovely places like Powerscourt. I tried the same drive last week and stupidly took a wrong turn and ended up back on the motorway. But not this evening.
As I meandered along and the sun went to bed in the mountains a golden dog put its head out of the window of the car in front of me and looked to be enjoying the view every bit as much as I was. And I wished my own beautiful brown dog was with me, more than I've wished for anything in a while.