Accepting to tutor a new
pupil whose parents run a boarding kennels did not seem such a good idea when I
found the gate plastered with dire warnings not to enter; I got out the mobile
and announced my arrival which prompted three figures to emerge from the house;
the smallest was my pupil’s mother, the larger two turned out to be Great
Danes, one old and disinterested, the other young and all too interested, which
meant it had to be hauled into its kennel (bigger than our new summerhouse)
before I could enter without risk of being bowled over.
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