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Bloody hell you have pretty much described Dolly. Other than the fact she loves all the dogs ever! And there’s no way she’d stay focused on running with the bike, unless I was chasing something that is. She has now learnt to jump up at the blackberries and pul the stem to the ground, put her foot on it and scoff away. Being from a farm she’s chilled with bangs as well. If it moves and she can catch it she’ll eat it, if it’s dead she’ll eat it, if it grows she’ll eat it. Basically if you can see it she’ll eat it, but she will sit next to you while you eat and not even look at what you are eating, put it down on a table, chair or wherever and it fine, but put it on the floor and it’s gone.
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Chaley
Chalfie
I have no idea how long he was a stray. Alf would be an arse at this time of year. He would pull everything blackberry off every bramble, eat every sweet chestnut, acorn, fallen apple, piece of roadkill, chase every cat and fox in the garden and grab any hedgehog he could snaffle. He was pretty awful with big dogs some of the time and great the rest of the time. But in the house he was quiet and obedient but hated thunder and fireworks. I built a system whereby he could run in front of my bike and he absolutely loved that. He'd have done that to his last breath.