I glanced up at the sky. Even though patches of stubborn cloud sat there, I knew I had to get away for a bit. “Let’s jump in the car and go a bit further afield, shall we?”

Harley trotted by my side and sat there whilst I ensconced her in her car seat. Without even deciding where we were headed, we took off out of Silver Ness.

Fields soon emerged to the right, the tall grass stirring like exotic dancers. I glanced out of the window. I had to try and think positively. I possessed all that experience from my days working at the advertising agency, plus my freelance credentials. That was without the two years reporting for The Silver Ness News.

Then there was my journalism degree from university.

The clouds were giving way to pools of sleepy sunshine as we carried on up a country lane, passing cotton-wool dollops of sheep, huddled together to keep warm. Winter was not far off.

There was another patchwork of fields and a pretty tangle of woodland. The trees were dispensing their leaves now. They rocked to the woodland floor, like dainty amber and claret boats on a tide. I was also concerned about Harley’s bladder, so decided now would be a good time to stop.

The next town – Drummond – was just a little further on, but this area – halfway between there and Silver Ness – would be perfect for Harley’s walk. Ironic that was the place that was in effect taking over The Silver Ness News for this title amalgamation.

I parked up in a deserted picnic-bay and Harley leapt out once I’d secured her lead.

No sooner had we moved away from the car than Harley began to pull on the lead. “Harley, wait up!”

She gazed up at me out of chocolate eyes, her tongue flapping.

“Yes, madam, I’m talking to you.”

We set off again, me attempting a brisk pace to keep up with her. She was desperate to take a run in the fields.

I ordered her to sit and she plonked herself down in front of me. “Right, young lady.” I rooted around in my jeans pocket and located my dog whistle. “I will let you off-lead, but don’t forget that when I do this…” I gave the whistle a hearty blast. “And you come straight back for one of these, ok?”

I fetched a pack of dog treats from the other pocket and her eyes grew.

Mum and Dad said her recall had been coming on well during the week, and the last couple of weekends when I had taken her to the park, she had bounded back towards me whenever I gave a blow of the whistle. I think the allure of more peanut butter and banana treats was the deciding factor.