The incident of the curious dog on the Thames Path

Having started at Pangbourne, we’d made our way out of the village to open ground beside the river. We thought Lula the dog deserved some time off the lead. And so we set her free to walk ahead of us. It was a decision we'd come to regret when we reached a section of boardwalk.

All was well at first – Lula trotted happily along the wooden slats. Then she spotted it: the thick, black mud below. It was some of the muddiest mud I've ever seen. And it was tempting. Too tempting. Oblivious to our commands, Lula flopped off the side of the boardwalk and disappeared up to her paw-pits. She wallowed. She frolicked. She sprawled. And then, eventually, she came back to us. A golden retriever no more, she was black from nose to tail and very, very excited.

Then the inevitable happened. Blobs of black mud rained down as Lula shook herself. G, aged nine, hid behind me and J as we tried to clip the filthy animal back on her lead without getting too dirty ourselves. Eventually, Lula was back on the lead and our minds turned to the hotel in Reading we’d booked for that night. We’d never be allowed in with a dog in this state. There was only one thing for it: she would have to go for a dip in the river.