I have no vanity, and I can prove it. It's impossible to walk 4 Yorkshire terrors, and keep your pride intact. I haven't walked them in a while - partly because I got a burn on my ankle, and partly because of everything going on with my Grandmother.  Today I thought I should try to force some normality back into my life, and start the day by taking the 'terrors' for their walk.

Before I proceed, I should mention just a few of the many humiliations they have inflicted on me in public. On one occasion, a woman actually stopped her car, wound down the window, and wept with laughter at me tangled up in 4 leads while Bella and Jasmine had a go at each other. On another, the little fat dog as he is known, happened upon a chicken bone, and being the greedy little piglet he is, lunged at it before I could intervene. The ensuing tug-of-war between me and he, bone in the middle, ended with me falling on my ass to the utter delight of a group of teenage bystanders.

I thought the wretches would feel that I'm going thru' a tough time, and behave, just a bit. Wrong. While we were running, they spotted a hadeda (type of bird, quite large). When they can't get at the object of their attention, (usually a cat, or motor bike, anything with wheels really, children, other dogs..the list is endless) they have a go at each other - not that they do any real damage - it's all bark, and no bite.  The leads crossed over, I lost my balance and landed face first on the ground. It was more than I could bear.

I must have looked like a right lunatic, because I just sat on the grass, and wept and wept. Thank God no-one was around. It took all my strength to muster up the courage to actually walk outside without crying, and here it all went awry.. I just felt like it was the last straw. It was one of those watershed moments. In the midst of my snibbling, it occurred to me that I really did have a choice. Get up, laugh it off and get on with the walk, or  go home, and dose up on tranquillizers. I have to say the latter option was a lot more appealing than the first. But I had this voice inside me, and I thought, f&*$ it. If they knock me down a hundred times, then I'll get up 101 times, but I won't let this get to me. I know it's a small, insignificant incident in the greater scheme of things, but when you are grieving, the smallest mishap takes on cosmic proportions.

Anyway, I wish I could say that I faced the rest of the day with the same bravado. Several times, I just sat and wept and wept for my Nanna. I just don't know how to physically maintain this level of misery. Every muscle and joint hurts, because I'm permanently tensed up, I can't eat, and I've cried enough tears to fill a small pond. Any little thing sets me off. But yes, come tomorrow, I will walk the little fiends again. Wish me luck!