After the vet visit on Monday, we got busy and did some searching. We quickly established the presence of a canine hydrotherapy unit, and that our pet insurance would help with the costs, which is good news. Caroline, our lovely KC classes tutor, had recommended the clinic she uses, so we gave them a call, and yesterday, after some fiddling around getting forms signed by the vet and various pieces of paper sent to the insurers, we took Booty for her initial assessment. You can see the website here.

Aqua Dogs is in the industrial estate behind the steelworks, but is easy for us to get to. Plenty of parking outside, and we made sure Booty also had a sniff about before going in. The first half of the appointment, Angela the therapist asked us lots of questions about Booty, her background, health, condition and so on. Then she was given a very thorough physical exam, including measuring limbs to check wastage, stretching, massage, a trot up outside to view her gait and weighing. Then her own lead and collar were removed and she was fitted with an adjustable harness, ready for her first session. We went through into the treadmill area, which is a kind of giant glass tank with a treadmill on the bottom of the floor. Booty was persuaded up the ramp into the tank and once she was in the glass door was shut and the tank gradually filled with warm water. Once the water was above her feet, she was given a little go on the treadmill to see how she reacted to it. To start with she obviously found it a bit strange but she soon got the hang of it. Gradually, the level of the water deepened and it was fascinating to watch. As the water gradually bore more of her weight, it was clear how much more freely she was moving. We kept watching and encouraging, and Booty seemed very happy. After what seemed like a very short time, her first session came to an end and the tank gradually emptied of water. Then the door opened, and Booty could walk down the ramp and onto the waiting towel for a dry off, her harness to be removed and a celebratory biscuit. Then it was back on with her collar and lead, and time to book her next session.

Angela the therapist has given us some instructions on massage to do in the meantime, and said that she might be a bit tired after her first session. Last night, she snoozed contentedly, but of course that's not much different to a normal greyhound! Today, we were keen to see how she'd be. She was lively this morning after a peaceful night in our bedroom, and keen to go on her walk. On the walk we could see no signs of any problem, in fact she seemed more energetic than usual, though that might be because today was cool and damp, much more pleasant than the hot, muggy conditions we've been having. Initially, she'll be having a series of 12 sessions, probably weekly to start with, and then, if all goes well, a maintenance programme. For future sessions, I'll take a camera, so will be able to record her progress. In the evening, I gave Caroline a call, who'd been asking about how she'd got on, and we ended up having a good long chat, which was lovely.

Today the dogs have been spending most of the day snoozing. Boola is on the floor behind me, as I've been working on the computer. Booty has been lying upside down with her legs in the air on one of the beds, and Andy has rotated between one of the beds and the landing where he can look out of the window down the street and keep an eye out for cats.

Regular readers will know that Booty,our greyhound bitch has arthritis, in her right shoulder. Although the condition cannot be cured, we've done everything we possibly can to try to ensure the best possible care and management of the condition. Her weight is optimal, she has the softest beds imaginable, she is kept as warm as possible (there is always a noticeable decline in her condition in cold winter weather), we feed a canine glucosamine supplement and she is on a combined medication regime of NSAIDs and pain relief. Recently however we've noticed that she is in more pain. For example, we went to the greyhound field yesterday, and while she was clearly enjoying herself pottering about she didn't get above a trot, while Andy and Boola were doing top speed zoomies. Today we took her to the vet, for a discussion about pain relief, and the conclusion from the vet is that she is on pretty much the optimal pain relief now - that effectively the ladder has no more rungs to climb.

The vet's suggestion is that we should try hydrotherapy - we've considered and discussed this before and know that for some dogs it can work very well indeed. There are a number of canine hydrotherapy centres in Cardiff and so we will be looking at these and booking her in for some treatment.

More broadly, though, we may have to face the fact that our darling girl may be getting to the end of her days. She is twelve at the moment, and otherwise in very good health. My hope had always been that she would end up dying with arthritis, not because of it. I had privately hoped that we would be able to have at least another couple of good years with her. Obviously, it's still early days and we need to try the hydrotherapy, but I don't think we would be responsible dog owners if we kept her going in severe pain.

With an animal it's always difficult to make precise judgements on pain and on quality of life. At the moment, I think we can say with assurance that she enjoys her walks, eats with enthusiasm, loves her tickles and definitely still has a twinkle in her eye. The hard question for us to consider is the balance between quality of life and acceptable pain limits. Whatever we do, our primary concern is her welfare, but this doesn't stop these moments being utterly and awfully heartbreaking. It also confirms my feeling that this year is just awful and has been an emotional Hell from the start; pretty much every month has brought bereavement, sickness and bad news.

The Tour finished today, and I'm bereft for another year. It's hard to explain how much it means to me, especially since I don't watch any other sport on TV, with the exception of the occasional equestrian event and sometimes the Olympics, or the occasional Welsh rugby match.

The Tour is particularly fascinating since it works so well on so many levels. Visually, it's a feast. Gorgeous French countryside for a start. Imagine chateaux, mountains, fields of sunflowers, lavender, ancient hill towns, alps, then into that throw nearly 200 riders all wearing the most colourful and photogenic team strips with a further layer of complexity added by the national colours worn by champions.

Now add sheer athleticism. The hardest sporting event on the planet. Three solid weeks of racing at rarified levels of intensity. Imagine Usain Bolt sprinting, but doing so after running a marathon. Picture athletes with body fat levels below 5%. When they smile, you don't see dimples - you see that tuck or fold in the cheek that tells you there's not enough meat on the bones for a dimple.

Then talk about danger. This year was particularly bloody. Racers compete with nothing but Lycra between them and the road, at speeds of up to 70 mph downhill on a mountain stage (Thor Hushovd was clocked at 69 mph this year) and routinely 40 mph for sprints and other fast stages. Crashes happen frequently and result in concussion, broken bones, skin removal, even coma and death. And that's without the fact that many accidents occur on high Alpine roads where there are no guards between you and a drop down the valley. This year there were particularly memorable incidents with a French media car and another with a motorbike, leaving riders dragged along and flung into ditches, tossed into the road and bounced into a barbed wire fence, missing a concrete post by inches. Astonishingly, after these incidents, the riders get back on and ride to the line. Even when Vino crashed down a mountain and his team mates were having to scramble to drag his broken body (fractured pelvis) back up to the road and the paramedics, you could see the question - was he getting back on? Completing a stage with a broken collar bone is normal - riders will routinely pretend an injury is minor when they have broken bones, fractures and concussion.

Then there's the strategy and tactics - now this I love. The Tour is not a single race with a single winner (well in one sense it is) but rather it is an interlocking series of 21 different stages, with fierce competition for different elements of it. Look at Mark Cavendish the British sprinter. Cav will finish well down the overall rankings yet is widely regarded as one of the best riders in the world because of his particular talent at sprint finishes, leading to record numbers of stage wins, a green jersey and huge amounts of respect. There are team tactics with clever blocking moves, subtle strategems to manoeuvre key riders into the right spots, and opportunities in the breakaway to get your team some all important coverage from the TV cameras. There are mountain specialists, big beefy sprinters, faithful domestiques who will go for years wiht no individual glory, yet will faithfully support their team leader into the right place for team and stage glory.

And finally there's the drama - the sheer wacky unpredictability of it. One year, someone was shooting at spectators. Sometimes the weather plays an important role (snow on the Alps, baking heat, unpredictable rain and slipperiness), the colourful, costume wearing, flag waving spectators, The Devil - a key Tour fixture on every stage waving his trident, his beard now grey, unexpected bike breakdowns, wardrobe malfunctions, illnesses, practical jokes, drugs (aah, drugs, that's a story in itself), personal rivalries and enmities, French politics, the podium girls - it's all there, adding layers of complexity and unexpectedness to every single Stage.

Now it's over for another year and I'm suffering withdrawal symptoms.

Firstly, many apologies for the delay in posting. Over the past week, we've been having major problems with our broadband, with it having an intermittent fault, the most frustrating kind, since just as we decide to call BT, service resumes, then the next day it's playing up again. Grrrrr.

Last weekend, we took the dogs over to the greyhound field near the old Severn bridge. Some pics attached. We hadn't been for a while and the dogs loved it, though of course their first thought on entering the flower filled meadow was to have a graze on the delicious grasses. It's quite strange seeing three dogs strolling through the field munching grass like a herd of leggy cows. We saw masses of butterflies, I took a picture of a Meadow Brown and we saw some Speckled Whites too, which were beautiful.

During the week, I've been gripped by the Tour de France - another outstanding race this year though with a high casualty rate, sadly.

On Thursday night, we went down to County Hall for a public meeting that had been set up to establish a "Friends of" group for the Council dog pound. Like many people involved in dog rescue I have ambivalent feelings about the pound. Running a stray dog service is a statutory part of the Council's responsibilities and Cardiff is unusual in having its own Dogs Home rather than contracting out the service. Dogs can be adopted from the pound, but do not generally have a homecheck first, may not be neutered and don't come with the same sort of support and aftercare that rescues generally provide. Lastly, and this is a dealbreaker for many, they kill many dogs.

So, I had ambivalent feelings. Is my voluntary effort better spent on working with rescues or should we encourage the dog pound to improve its standards? Eventually I decided to go along as I think the Council is to be commended for wanting to improve services. It was an interesting meeting and I will write more about the issues involved. You can link here to the Dogs Home website. I must admit it felt odd though to be back at County Hall, for the first time in a number of years.

On Saturday morning we went along to Roath Farmers Market (see website here). We bought some gorgeous tomatoes - a big selection of lovely shapes, sizes, colours. And the flavour!!! Just like home grown. On Saturday night, we had a tomato salad with a home made sage foccaccio, plus some courgette fritters (courgettes also from the market), and on Sunday, some local, free range pork from one of the stalls.

Sunday was a nice, sociable day. Our next door neighbours, Russ and Sarah, were celebrating Russ's 40th birthday party with a barbeque and open house party in the afternoon, so we went along and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Met some lovely people including a very nice couple, one half of whom went to the same 6th form college as Andrew, and whose parents live very close to Andrew's. Small world!

Sunday was another scorcher. We decided to take Boola down to Margam Park for the Dogs Trust Summer Fair and Dog Show. Happily for the Trust, it was incredibly well attended - we guessed into the thousands. Dogs of every shape, size, age and colour (along with their owners), a huge variety of trade stalls, charity stalls, plants, cakes, gifts, tombola, bar, displays and so on. After strolling over to the dog show area, we found that the first class was for Golden Oldies - perfect for Boola. So Andrew entered us, and we trotted into the ring, along with a fabulous assortment of other dogs, many of them rescues that had been homed via the Dogs Trust. The judge (a local vet) came round and had a look at everyone. While we were waiting, Boola decided to embarrass me by weeing enthusiastically over an agility tunnel that was waiting to be used for a display following our class. There was absolutely nothing I could do once he had started.

Anyway, the judge came round, asked us a few questions and had a good look at Boola, who was his usual chilled out self. Then the judge went into a huddle and pulled out five finalists, including us. Now rather nervous, he had another look at us, and to my utter delight gave us the first prize along with the biggest, blingiest rosette I have ever seen - it must have been a foot long. After being presented, a professional photographer came over and took pictures, Andrew came into the ring for some pics and as we headed slowly out, a radio journalist collared me for Real Radio (local radio station) and did a quick interview. I was able to burble out a few words about how greyhounds make fabulous pets which I hope will help. Some pics attached.

Afterwards, we had a look round the stalls, Rita bought some plants and as it was getting hotter and hotter, we decided to take Boola home. Still proudly wearing his rosette, we strolled back to the car, attracting quite a few comments. Once the air con was working it was a smooth, swift journey home and Rita enjoyed watching the tennis final in the afternoon. Like Boola, I must admit I had forty winks in the afternoon. In the evening we had a delicious dinner in the garden - it was lovely to be able to sit out there, with the smell of the jasmine wafting over us.

Rita and Roger joined us for our dog walk on Monday morning and then returned to Somerset. I've been catching up on the Tour - am loving my annual cycle fest. Andy is still limping due to the missing toenail, but is milking the sympathy for all he's worth, which is usually a very good sign.

Well, the Pony Club show was great fun. I drove down to Penny's in the early morning fog and drizzle, with extra fleeces and warm cardigans tucked in to the back of the car. I arrived with Penny about 8.20 a.m. and we jumped into her car after a quick dose of lurcher love from Ben and Milly and also saying hello to Joe. Then it was off to Llandovery. On the way, saw masses of red kites which was great, then once we hit Llandeilo suddenly the sun came out and by the time we arrived at the show, it was a clear blue sky and blazing sunshine all day. We had a wonderful day and I really enjoyed myself. Lots to do, with quite a few classes, scores to record for jumping rounds, rosettes and certificates to dish out, picking up class lists and judging sheets from the secretary and helping out with repairing fences and catching ponies when riders fell off in the ring. Smallest were little leading rein ponies with tiny 3 year olds on top right up to the big hunters with adults on board. There was a professional photographer there and you can see the gallery from the show here.

By the time we finished our classes it was close to 3, there was a lunch laid on for us in the rugby club and then we pootled back to Penny's. Then home and I was pretty tired, and unfortunately had really caught the sun on the back of my neck and tops of my arms. I hadn't expected to need to take sun lotion as the weather had started being more suitable for welly boots. I'm now at the peeling stage.

Rita and Roger came over for the weekend and arrived yesterday afternoon. Rita's arm is still giving cause for concern - she is still in a cast but her arm is painful and swollen and an operation has still not been fully ruled out. However, she is being seen regularly by the consultant so we are hopeful it will continue to heal.

We took the dogs out early yesterday morning to Tredegar House for our normal walk, and as it was quiet let Andy off the lead. He was happy to be able to run around and then to his delight spotted a squirrel and was off like a rocket after it. Naturally the squirrel was able to safely take refuge in a tree, leaving Andy doing his vertical take off jumps at the base. We caught up with him and realised he was limping and bleeding and it turned out that in his sprint he'd ripped out a toenail on his back off side paw and the near side was grazed on the knuckle of his paw. We got him back to the car leaving a trail of bloody footprints and in hte house it looked like a crime scene. We bathed the foot in warm salty water and he retired to his bed, looking very sorry for himself so we gave him a painkiller. Since then, he's been very quiet, and we've continued to give pain relief although the stump/quick appears to be healing. I can only imagine how painful it must be.

It's been a lovely day today - we didn't take Andy out for his walk as he was still looking very sorry for himself and not moving very much. After the others came back, we had a late breakfast - I had made a delicious date, honey and oatmeal loaf which we all enjoyed. After a relaxing potter, we then went out this afternoon to one of the National Garden Scheme gardens. For those who don't know, this is a wonderful scheme where otherwise private gardens are opened to the public for charity on specified dates, usually with beautiful or unusual planting, plant sales and tea and cake.

The garden we went to see today is this one - not too far to travel so we set off in the beautiful sunshine leaving the woofs peacefully snoozing at home. They had laid on parking in an adjacent field and it was absolutely lovely with a steady stream of visitors, some tempting plant sales and delicious home made cakes and tea. I loved the orchard which had a variety of apple, pear, plum and medlar trees, and also particularly liked the use of clematis in the garden - they are obviously a fan of the species, and it was unusual to see clematis being used against the house walls. Lots of lovely herbaceous perennials with attractive colour combinations. The garden was set against the beautiful Usk countryside and looked out over a wheat field. I've attached some pics. After we came home, Rita is watching the tennis final and I'm hoping to sneak a peek later at the Tour. As it's such a gorgeous day, we'll be having a big jug of Pimms in the garden and will probably eat out there tonight. We're doing a sort of Meditteranean medley, with a watermelon, feta and mint salad, a pea and mint hummus, some pitta breads, grilled marinaded beef strips, and a couple of other salads with a raspberry cheesecake to follow.