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Butterfly counting

My human was sparing with the truth when the magic words 'walkies' were called from the back door. Come on, she said, let's go between the rain showers. Better make it brisk then, I thought, it's been raining all day so far and I'm not keen on getting my paws wet, as you all know.

Apart from a small delay to pick a few blackberries the walk was on schedule. Up the track, across a bit of a moorland ridge seeing if anything's lurking in the bracken, down a bit of woodland checking the rabbit situation, get back and remind the humans it's late breakfast, bit of a snooze and the afternoon is sorted.

Trouble is it's butterfly counting week. In this weather? It is howling a gale! Any self respecting butterfly is clinging to a tree pretending to be bark. Butterfly counting is only meant to take 15 minutes, but it must have taken all of that waiting for a moment of sun so that one of the butterflies opened its wings for the camera. This isn't a walkies, this is waiting. I don't do waiting...