King of the Moor

Whiskey hadn't visited the moor in a while. We've all been very busy and dogs have to be kept on their leads while the ground birds are nesting. He remembered his way around, more specifically, he soon found his favourite muddy ditches.

It's fascinating to observe his extraordinary emotional intelligence. He spots another dog and immediately wants to go play, but if he sees that the dog is small, he won't just go barrelling up as he would with an animal his own size. He will crouch down on the path and wait for the dog to come to him, remaining completely still, allowing his new friend to have a good sniff and be assured that he is friendly and not a threat. And then he'll start to play. The smaller the dog, the gentler and more submissive he will be. For me, never having been around dogs much, it's incredible to watch these interactions. I've said it before. He brings joy to everyone and everything he meets.

For the record, we got back in time for the first session of the third test match against India from Headingley. After the horror show of the final day at Lords, I feared the worst. Instead, we witnessed the best day of cricket for England since Boxing Day, 2010, when the three of us were at the MCG in Australia. A first-innings lead with no wickets down and Haseeb Hameed having written a new narrative for himself. What a story. What a sport. 

With everything that's been going on in Afghanistan, a country as cricket-mad as India, it's been hard this last week to write anything here. It all seems so irrelevant and inadequate. All I've wanted to do is bury myself in my creative writing as a distraction from the horror of it all.