Harry nearly met Nick Clegg, the Deputy Primeminister today. Nearly but not quite. The chemistry was not quite right. Harry was more interested in sniffing something on the pavement. Nick Clegg was being quickly ushered between the Guildhall and a waiting car.
Harry often goes in for a paddle and a drink of water at this shady spot near the weir pools. It was another hot day.
After some dry sunny weather the grass is no longer looking quite so green. Harry has had his annual strip and is no looking quite such a shaggy dog either.
England were outplayed by Germany. After that huge huge disappointment then should England decide that they need a new manager to replace Fabio Capello - the man with the trademark spectacles - Harry will be ready. He would like to see some young greyhounds on the wings and a bulldog as captain, and is open to suggestions for other positions...
Harry is a bit worried about the tail like object the Morris Man is holding. After a quick pose, Harry decided it was not too wise to hang around too long. He did not want to turn into a tickling stick. You never do know with these ancient traditions what they get up to.
