So it’s September, and you can feel the seasons change already. I can smell it. And on Saturday night, walking back from the beach, Mum said, “That’s our last beach walk of the summer.” I was with Uncle Bracken, and we just looked at each other. “Squirt,” he said, “this isn’t good news.” Don’t get me wrong, I love running through the autumn leaves, but nothing beats warm sand beneath your paws, and paddling in the sea to cool off after a long run. And going for evening walks at Cammo or Inverleith Park, in daylight. Cold paws on frozen pavements? I could live without this, really. So I guess I’m sad to see summer go. Time to order my winter togs.