Lamb, Garlic and Doodles.

What threatened to be a mundane trip to work at the Out of Hours yesterday was given a dramatic twist. I'd decided to walk Jeff's legs off prior to work so he would be tired and hopefully settle down to sleep in the car overnight. We stopped in the woods just outside Durham.

It started as just a routine walk in the park: Jeff sniffing this n that, birds tweeting in the woodland and sheep bleating in the field next door (though such walks are something I won't ever now take for granted - thank you ankle, you're getting there). Routine that was until Jeff took off deep into the wild garlic.

The reason for this burst of activity was soon apparent as Jeff Dawg plucked a semi-putrified lamb carcass from the undergrowth. Eyes wide, tail straight-up and wagging with new-found vigour... the game was on!

After 20 mins of chasing, and hide and seek, I was in danger of being late for work but eventually had Jeff cornered by fences in the woodland. A playful growl, head down, he attempted to barge past me.

Now, I don't think that Jeff knew I was once captain of the Durham School 4th Rugby XV (played 3, won 3, banned for violence and alcohol). Nor that I had once been called onto the pitch for 15 of the most scared minutes of my life when reserve for the 1st XV. He certainly wasn't expecting the re-emergence of my tackling prowess: but I took him down and as he went, the lamb carcass shot from his surprised jaws smearing what can only be described as "gack" down my leg. As we rolled in the muddy undergrowth, the stench of wild garlic was overpowering as the spring growth was crushed, staining my trousers.

I'm not sure what I would think if I needed to see a GP overnight and he had muddy, garlic-stains on his knees and stunk of wet dog and rotten farm animal, but at 3am I soon found out what Harvey the Golden Doodle thought. I had turned my back for only a moment, when I felt a paw on each shoulder and a thrusting at my waist.

JD is in the dog-box.