Today was very blowy. Thankfully the wind was at our backs and we finished in record time, pushed along by the tail-end of Hurricane Florence.
The word has obviously got out that we are walking for water, as became clear when we ran across this helpfully provided box of it. They must have heard about our plan to improve access to clean water in Tanzania, and as a dog who is routinely expected to drink out of muddy puddles I am an expert on what it’s like when water is neither clean nor plentiful. I wasn’t offered any, of course. I am becoming gradually aware of an underlying current of discrimination when it comes to the sharing out of goodies and may well have something to say to the RSPCA when this is all over.
There were other unexpected offers of hospitality along the way. Some kind people had even put out plasters, but none big enough for Maggie’s feet. We even got the odd tit-bit, and I have now added flapjacks to my list of acceptable afters. Unlike fruit. Who ever heard of anyone being described as being ‘fit as a green-grocer’s dog’?
We’re all hoping that our last few days of walking can help bump up the donations. It doesn’t get any easier as the days go on, and the rest of the team are obviously finding it difficult because at the end of the walking day they have to down whole pints of what doesn’t look at all like clean water to these doggy eyes.