It could only happen to me — catching a vicious head cold in the middle of an intense Western Cape heatwave. I blame my wife’s insistence on plunging into the glacial Kommetjie swell at twilight.

At 7am on Saturday, I was still feverish — a mere six hours before the first league tennis game of the season. With reserves in short supply, I could not pull out of the fixture. So, I tried to mend matters as best I could. The first port of call was the dappled chill of the upstairs balcony, where our faithful old hound Dexter usually keeps watch over early-morning comings and goings. Dexter was none too happy to have his lonely vigil disturbed but could sense something was amiss, seeing his best friend so badly buckled and swathed in several of Glodina’s thickest wraps. ..

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