In which we see the worst snow for 30 years and Presley has a cold

Presley has had many trials of late. Being covered in wrapping paper, being rushed to the vets at 6am the day after boxing day, having a nasty cough, and to compound it all there is another dog in the house.

Not just another dog mind. Troy.

Troy is...magic. He's been here 3 days and is already walking without a leash (fine if you're a country hound but pretty impressive for a town mouse) and is a true joy to be out with. The novelty of a new dog can make you remember how much you enjoy your original dog - so the whole foster thing works for everyone here!

Today Troy had neglected to have a poo on walk 2. So at 11pm I took him out in one of the worst blizzards we've seen in years. Me being me, the first thought was 'well we won't have to worry about other dogs!' and off we went.

A dog in the snow is fun. A dog in virgin snow is brilliant. A dog who usually pulls like a train in snow, without a leash, is fantastic.

We ambled up a short path in Richmond park - with the moonlight reflecting off the snow that was carpeting the place with a reflective glow. This big lump, who's had so little freedom. This long nose, who's done nothing but aim to please since he arrived, this silly sausage, who someone left behind (and I think it hurt them to do so; a lot of love went into this dog) trotted alongside me the whole way. Main roads. Strangers. Herds of deer. The Ghost of Henry VIII galloping through his park. Interesting lampposts. Fresh scent trails.

There was nothing more interesting than Foster Lady. What a Boy.