Dog Tired

This fine morning Asbo and I decided to follow the ridge line.
Do you know what? I am not sure that I am giving the dog too little credit here. I remember him looking back at me and giving the Paddington Bear stare when in fact it was I that took the decision to follow the ridge. He was rather committed by the fact that I held him to little choice on the end of a lead.
Anyway we followed the ridge and eventually stepped out on to the top up above Maen Penddu. The East wind bit in to both of us. Well it bit the dog more than me of course. I had dressed sensibly in the full awareness if the bitter cold. He, being less informed, wore just his old black coat.
The snow was up to my boot tops, and in hidden hollows where the wind had deposited more up to my knees. It was fun to push through the crust of hard snow on the top and through the deep powder below. Fun unless you were a dog scraping your …umm … parts.. through the deep freeze.
We stopped up by Maen Amor to share a coffee. Well again I may exaggerate the sharing aspect here. Asbo in fact gave me an almost baleful glare as I took of a glove and poured myself a coffee. He was right of course, I should have kept my glove on. My fingers were frozen despite the warmth of the drink. Goodness only knows how his paws must have felt.
Fortified, we turned the corner towards the path down. Particles of hard snow ripped from the surface stung our eyes. Thank goodness I had my hat and scarf pulled tight to my glasses. I was easily able to follow the hound and keep my eye on him as he tried to dodge from side to side.
An hour or so later I sat down to a superb breakfast. Eggs Benedict setting me up for the rest of the day. The dog, a complete lightweight in every regard, has flaked out in front of the fire.
I wonder if he needs worming……