Is it the smell of the breeze? Unlikely in these parts, surrounded as we are by chemical and industrial plants at one end, and the local sewage treatment works at the other.
Is it the feeling of the wind in the face, perhaps, tingling the senses and creating some sense of canine euphoria?
Or could it be - as occurred to me this afternoon when presented with such a scene on the road - that the whipping of the wind through furry, flappy dog ears, at city-based speeds of 23-38 miles-per-hour, could create within the little pooch brains the sound of some grand orchestral magnificence?! Can you imagine! There we have the mental anguish of Beethoven, deaf to his own brilliance, and yet along comes Spot in his suped-up Vauxhall Nova, and *BAM* - a cacophony of instruments and timbre and pitch to rival the greatest symphonies known to man.
Just imagine. Woof.
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