Dog days and divine intervention

I had the perfect day planned — decoying woodpigeons over wheat during the day and fishing for trout in the evening on one of the most famous Test beats. I planned it months ahead and though I was expecting a perfect southern summer’s day, it was bad luck that it happened to coincide with a period of high temperatures. It was hot, sultry and extremely bright — a real dog day of summer.

Almighty task

Such days are traditionally connected with heat, drought, lethargy and, the worst of it all, bad luck. As I was walking out of the door, weighed down with kit, Mrs Lawson politely reminded me that she was expecting some game for her surf-and-turf-themed church barbecue at the end of the month.