Dogs Like To Obey. It Gives Them

I Am Never At My Best In The Early Morning, Especially A Cold Morning In The Yorkshire Spring With A Piercing March Wind Sweeping Down From The Fells, Finding Its Way Inside My Clothing, Nipping At My Nose And Ears.

I Think It Was The Fact That I Liked It So Much That Made The Writing Just Come Out Of Me Automatically.

If A Farmer Calls Me To A Sick Animal, He Couldn't Care Less If I Were George Bernard Shaw.

I Wish People Would Realize That Animals Are Totally Dependent On Us, Helpless, Like Children, A Trust That Is Put Upon Us.

At Times It Seemed Unfair That I Should Be Paid For My Work; For Driving Out In The Early Morning With The Fields Glittering Under The First Pale Sunshine And The Wisps Of Mist Still Hanging On The High Tops.