Okay, I’ve got it. I think. Little one on the left and the big one on the right, otherwise they both get confused and wind round my legs until I'm a human maypole.
In this wind Maple the stout black Labrador is quite handy, she’s my portable wind guard, at least for my legs, which I shelter behind her as we pad along the side of the road towards the park. The park! Even a whisper of the word sends Maple streaking ahead. She is straining at the lead to get cross the road once a glimpse of green is within doggy distance. But let’s not forget her bosom buddy and fellow pack member Poppy, a small and compact terrier, whose mournful eyes are made to break your heart - the more casual half of this double act. Where Maple leaps, Poppy saunters, and where Maple dashes, Poppy meanders. Not put off by Maple’s pulse-racing pace, Poppy walks along oblivious, a few paw lengths behind.
