Extract from Sunday, 16th October, 1983:

A fine sunny morning after a rainy day or two. L.H. in Americky, M ² doing something else; George hors de combat with a pulled tendon (he has this tendon, see?) but consented to walk a short distance with me.

We chose Wakerly Woods, and doesn't fortune smile on G? BBC TV were making a film, "Diana", and we were surrounded by film crews and German soldiers. G., of course, was in his element, talking to everyone and addressing the soldiers in German. (They were all cockneys!)

We watched several explosions, which rather upset Vicci, and the starlet jogging, which rather upset George.

Extract from Saturday, 22nd October, 1983:

This morning George and I took our dogs for a walk down the lane at Alwalton, planning how we would defeat Little Harris' attempts to tell us all about Americky on his return next week.

This afternoon I was picking the remains of a miserable crop of apples in bright, cold & sunny, but typically Canine Universal weather, when a telephone message came to say that Harris died last night, in an hotel room in America, far from his beloved English countryside.

I started these journals because I was enjoying our walks so much, and feared that something so good could not last forever. I little thought the era would prove even shorter, and end more tragically, than my worst fears.

Goodbye, my dear friend. 

Editor's Note: The walks and the Journals continue, even today, but I thought that this was an appropriate place to end this selection.

There is scarcely a walk during which Harris is not mentioned.