I had agreed to join Lottie and her dad Alan on a trip to Merseyside, to pick up her horse Marik. Not realising of course how useless it would be for me to join them, and what a stressful trip it would be. In the morning, with Alan already up himself about getting up earlier than his afternoon usual twice in as many days, breakfast meant grabbing some sandwiches along with a thermos of Cup-a-Soup. My mood darkened when I realised that oh yes, of course it would be cruel to leave three little doggies alone for a few hours. The Landrover Discovery proved too small for two Armstrongs and three dogs barking at eachother, as it chugged to the Wirral at 50mph maximum on the Motorway. For some reason Alan - who prides himself in having been a top police driver and still quite capable of embarrassing hot hatches around Scottish lanes in his Landy - needed constant re-assurance we were in the right lane and on the right way. Despite hugging the left lane and myself constantly reading our from a printed Google map, that is. I wouldn't have minded much to be of service, but being barked at for pointing out we're indeed we're in the right lane was a bit much. I longed back to being in a car with my mate Bart, who needed no directions at all cruising to Edinburgh at 120mph. At least the dogs had settled down a bit on the Motorway, though they seemed a bit befuddled when they were let out for a wee at Chester Services. "All this way for a bloody wee?"



At the equestrian hospital, Marik didn't seem to bothered about anything much, as usual. While I have to admire his 17.2hh height and incredible strength, I like him best for his subdued nature. That said, he showed a different side to himself kicking seven colours of shit out of the trailer's back door when the car started moving. He needed a bit of sedation to get back to his usual self, but remained quite cool all the way back to Bolton. Alan of course wasn't. I had half expected him to know the way back a bit better than the way there, but I had to agree the roads all look different in the opposite direction. Biting my tongue as ever, I did. Lottie then stayed with Marik at the stables, while Alan and I brought the trailer back to the guy who had let us borrow it. I was surprised to find he needed no directions to get there, but didn't comment as I followed our route along the map with a bit of wonder. The three dogs in the back (and sometimes at the front) were of course keen for a walk, so Alan decided to drive past the house and on to Clifton Marina for them to have it. It meant that, while I was dying to get home, have a coffee and get away from everything for a bit, I sheepishly followed him around the lake and so did the dogs. Well, until one of them spotted two puppies and ran off with them, that is. Looking for it ever more frantically, Alan and I did three rounds rather than the one - but thankfully found the dog. On the way home, we again went past the house to stop at the garage instead for sir to buy his paper. And then finally, I could lock myself away for a while taking some frustration out in FIFA 2005 on the pc. My team Hearts of Midlothian knocked up more than a few red cards..