Who Let the Dogs Out? - March 15th

I was relaxed having negotiated my way into the closed campground, set up tent  and gone for a nice meal in the nearby restaurant. Back at the campsite the gate was locked and a huge dog eyed me from the inside - he looked like a St Bernard-Rottweiler cross. But there was nothing else for it - all the things I depended on were in the campsite - so I climbed the wall. He came across and wagged his tail so I gingerly dropped down next to him. I needn't have worried. He was a softee.

In fact, the biggest problem was getting rid of him so I could sleep. He loved being petted and kept coming back for more, nudging me with his 50kg weight. He inspected the inside of the tent while I briefly pondered the benefits of a living hot water bottle on a freezing cold night - it later snowed 2 inches.

In the morning he was back, pawing at my leg for more strokes while I tried to dress, Then he disappeared for breakfast. The last I saw of him was chained up near the now open gate. He looked forlornly at me as I cycled off into the cold morning. Some guard dog. He just wanted a friend