What a horrid day here in Liverpool, very grey sky.
Heres a picture I caught of my dad walking the very manly Bichon Frise, Santa. Although he cringes every time a fire engine passes - he's a ex-fireman and it has been known for them to stop at the traffic lights and launch good natured ribbing about him spending his retirement walking a girly little white (usually more of a grey if Im honest) fluff ball. I know he would not never swap Sant for the world!
