She is found.
Sweet Amber was located safe and well at approximately 10.35 on Saturday morning. It was as suspected, her lead had become tangled in a hazel bush and she could not free herself. She was only about 50yds away from where my partner and I were looking, which was annoying, as we might have picked her up on Friday night if we'd had more time. She was found by her partner's husband, who had organised a comprehensive search with five friends. So all is well and we can breathe once more. Daft girl. Why she didn't start yipping straight away to alert people to her whereabouts I don't know, but that's women for you I suppose.
My partner did not encounter too many horrors at Saturday evening's party. He wasn't there, I'm glad to say. Well, he was there of course, but he wasn't. One spectre out of a possible two isn't bad. My partner's generosity in supplying a gift forced him to be polite and give her a kiss, but it was limited to a peck. Happy days.
Unfortunately, my partner didn't really know anyone at the party apart from the young man and his immediate family. She spent at least 90 minutes sitting with a local old farmer, listening to him complain about how a popular local tourist attraction's fireworks had burned his corn. She broke free when the barbecue was ready, and attracted the attention of a number of young gentlemen while laughing at the sausages. She held court for some time but, in honesty, had had enough of flirty banter and fluttering her eyelashes for one evening and she slipped quietly away unnoticed at a convenient moment.
The rain has been torrential today, although no sign of the Sky-dog has materialised, thank goodness. Some poor s*d drowned in a drain in Hull and RAF helicopters have been rescuing dogs, people and cats all over the place. What's going on?!
There was a brief break in the clouds this afternoon, during which Maisie took me to the park. It was nice to see all my friends again. They wanted to hear all about my Welsh holiday (it was my first time in the park since returning). I told them about the happy times, described previously, and the less-happy ones. Like the fact that my partner and I had to delay our return by a whole day because my partner caught gastric 'flu off a pony (Don't ask. Believe me, you don't want to know). The fact that, when we did journey home, the trip took well over eight hours (we had to stop at least twice so that my partner could be sick and sleep). My pack listened most politely but, when they found out that it was Wales I had been visiting, the air was heavy with sniggering. My friends all made a variety of sheep noises before running away laughing.
"Sheep-sh*gger!" called Jack the Retriever, as he cleared the gate at the bottom of the park, putting plenty of distance between us, and my 'friends' all broke into another volley of smutty giggles. The gits.
I sighed. Let them behave like puppies if they want to. I enjoyed my holiday and can discuss it without being crude. Even if I am still finding sand in the most interesting places.