I gazed around the field, rippling under the sleepy sun, which was definitely beginning to subside in the sky. At this time of year in Scotland it was dark by around seven o’clock. “Ok. Have fun. I’ll call you back in a few seconds, so be ready.”

I unclipped Harley’s lead and she let out a thrilled little bark of freedom. I laughed, watching her podgy bottom disappear into the grass. I followed on behind her, listening to her weaving her way.

Filling my lungs with the zesty woodland air was soothing. I had never brought Harley here before but I strode on, catching sight of her fluffy tail whipping from side to side amongst the grass.

I embraced the rhythmic stride of my walking boots. Out here, it felt like, even for a short time, my worries about my job situation could float away.

Images of my first day at the paper, all keen and anxious to please; the tatty Christmas decorations Doug had strung up in the newsroom before I insisted on going shopping to replace them; seeing my first by-line rippling across the front page; the teasing Frances and I would do of Doug’s loud shirts… It all merged into a huge, emotional ball in my throat.

I swallowed and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sleepy, chilled sunshine flit across my face. Think positive.

The sky was beginning to deepen into a delicious raspberry ripple. I glanced down at my watch. “Ok, Harley. Come on girl. Time to go.” I raised the dangling whistle around my neck and gave it a short, sharp blow, expecting her to come bounding back to me.

Harley didn’t appear.

I blew the whistle again. Still nothing.

An icy, cold panic seized me. I started to stride off, my eyes scanning the distance. “Harley! Where are you? Harley!”

I picked up my steps and blasted the whistle again. I could feel the silvery taste. Harley was nowhere to be seen.

Oh God. Where was she? Had she hurt herself or fallen down a rabbit hole? I shouldn’t have let her off-lead in here. What was I thinking?! What a week it had been!

I gulped a ball of worry. No. Stop panicking. She couldn’t have gone far. It wasn’t that long ago that her tail was bobbing ahead of me.

I snatched up the whistle and gave it another fierce prolonged shriek. “Harley! Come here!”

The birds fizzed amongst the trees, but there was no sign of a cockapoo puppy.

A sickening dread gripped my insides. Where the hell was she?

I scanned the field. Panic reared up again. What if she had run off, made for the main road, and been hit by a car? Or what if she had fallen down a hole and got stuck?