Just after I put up the last blog post, I paid for my lunch at the jazzy house cafe, and decided to get a coffee for our walk in the park. It wasn’t until Billy and I rounded the corner onto the street where we used to live that I realised that this is possibly the first time that he’s been back there in nearly two years. He started pulling a little bit harder on the leash, and when we got to the building we used to live in, he went straight for the door.
I told him we no longer live there, but, well, he’s a dog. He scratched at the door, wanting to go in. I tried to drag him away, but he was having none of it. He sat there, stubbornly refusing to move, for a minute or so. Eventually, a little bit of coaxing with a biscuit did the trick.