Lucy hired a dog walker to tire out her terrier, Biscuit.
On Monday the walker returned red-faced, holding the lead in one hand and a muddy tennis ball in the other. Biscuit trotted in looking ready to start again.
Tuesday was the same. The walker had grass on her knees; Biscuit hadn’t a speck on his coat.
‘How far are you walking him?’ Lucy asked.
‘Almost nowhere,’ the walker said. ‘He takes me to the park, drops the ball at my feet, and sits beside the gate.’
‘But don’t you throw it?’
‘Of course. Then he watches me fetch it.’
Lucy stared at Biscuit, who set the ball at the walker’s feet again. ‘I asked you to tire him out.’
‘I know,’ said the walker. ‘But at this rate he’ll have me trained by Friday.’