Martin stared down at the dog incredulously, wondering how it had managed to get from Truro to Portwenn by foot in the same time it had taken him to drive. As he was about to curse the mutt, Louisa approached and gave an exclamation of delight before bending to pat its head.

"Where's this one come from, Martin? Aren't you a cutey hey? Lovely big soft ears!"

Martin closed his eyes with disgust. "Louisa. He's covered in mud, god knows what diseases he has. Look, he's scratching now!"

Louisa sighed and rubbed her hands on her trousers, registering with some amusement the horror on her husband's face. "Oh I'll go and have a bath before I touch anything. And I won't let him inside."

Martin nodded with satisfaction, and then recoiled from Louisa as she walked up the steps towards him.

Martin arrived home after a house call late that evening and with some satisfaction he noted the driving rain seemed to have made the dog disappear, from his doorstep at least.

Inside, the doctor quickly warmed himself by the fire, hanging up his raincoat and removing his shoes, careful to clean any drops of rain he left in his wake.

"Louisa?"

When he received no reply, he made for the stairs, stretching his body tiredly, and then cursing quietly at the smallness of the rooms when his head hit the beam at the top of the stairs.

"Louisa?"

When a groan emitted from the bedroom, he walked in, not noticing the dog that was curled at the foot of the bed.

"I'm home."

"...Welcome home?" Louisa sat up, resting on her elbow as she rubbed her face tiredly.

"You said you had something to show me."

"Martin...that was three hours ago, and what I had to show you was what was under my dressing gown. Now I'd just like to go back to sleep thank you."

"Oh. Oh, right. Well."

Louisa looked at him sleepily as he turned to leave the room, but suddenly he spotted the wagging dog tail.

"Louisa!"

Martin hit the pillow below his head, trying to get comfortable on the couch as he grumbled to himself. Hearing a noise on the floorboards, he silenced himself a moment, hoping Louisa had come down to forgive him, but instead a cold, wet nose suddenly touched his hand.

With an angry groan, Martin rolled over to face the back of the couch.

"As soon as she's gone tomorrow, you're going back to where you came from. And if you dare get on my bed again with your fleas and your dirt and your...stench! I'll...throw you into the bloody sea!"

The dog gave a whine, and then jumped up on to the armchair near Martins head, panting happily to himself.