The rainwater is building in the fields.

Usually a favourite pit stop area for the mad pup but strangely not today.

On the path, a once clean golden retriever was proudly showing off its new caked mud look while it’s owner muttered something about her pride and joy encountering a garden hosepipe real soon….

A garden hosepipe option that isn’t available to our 84 month old puppy due to to some of his very own premeditated, over zealous chewing. Definitely lots of chewing DNA in our pet, way more than in me I guess.

I should ask my sister about that.

A few days back she phoned me to excitedly tell me about her DNA heritage results test. I’ve always thought about checking mine out to see where I kinda came from apart from Yorkshire. Well unless my sister has some dodgy results or if my parents didn’t tell me about some really important stuff, THEN I now have clarity. On this walk I pondered a shocking fact…. I’m not as Yorkshire as I assumed. My DNA appears to be only 50% English. Further my sister has been doing some family history digging as well and it looks like there is a lot of Lancashire in me. On NO Yorkshire’s biggest rivals, WE’VE had wars with them…. If people find out, I might lose my Yorkshire Passport and Rhubard Privileges.

Apparently I’m also 30% Welsh (why can’t I sing then….), 12% Scottish and 8% Scandinavian. Viking DNA is not unexpected as they did invade this part of the world. I might look quite fetching stood in a longboat dressed as a Nordic Warrior. In my dreams 😂😂😂😂😂