Furry face

Mr Perkins is sick of me trying to groom him and keep his fur nice. He’s struggling with it himself because of his thyroid medication.

But the more he prevents me grooming him, the more matted his fur gets, so the scissors have to come out. That’s not popular either.

Nevertheless, it’s getting better. Dreamies help, sort of.

I did little today except put off my long run of 7 miles. By the time I felt close to being ready to go out, the temperature had crept up too far, so I had to leave it. The sun was about to set by the time it cooled down enough.

It was quite a good run, apart from the bits where I went up the hill from two approaches. Everywhere else, I generally felt strong enough, even if I didn’t go very fast.