We were hurried along last Saturday and found ourselves being walked across the field in front of the house. This was unusual as we had already been for a walk and we were looking forward to a good snooze. All this country air seems to have the desired effect on us. In any case it was clear that there was a deadline to meet so we weren’t allowed to loiter and snack on the gifts that the sheep had left us. Across the road, and then right turn into the train station. Aha, an adventure! Now we’re talking.
Onto the train when it arrived and we were then speeding along, we knew not where. The countryside went past the window as Lenny and I tried to hoover up the various specks of food that people had kindly dropped on the train floor. We also tried to make friends with people on the train but found ourselves being told to behave. As the train arrived at the next stop we got off and found ourselves in Ludlow. Off we trotted to see what we could find, pulling our parents behind us. Ludlow was founded around 1066-1085 somewhere around the Norman Conquest. Its castle sits high upon the hill overlooking the river Teme and is a very impressive, if somewhat ruinous, structure.
Look regal, we’re at a castle.
Sometime after the castle was built the town was fortified around 1233 due to the squabbles between various English kings and Welsh Princes. There remain over 500 listed buildings in the town which are very impressive.
We went through the streets, past the market, around the castle, down to the riverside walk, back up into the town, around the market square and then back toward the station for our return trip. It was very busy as the Saturday market was in full swing and there were plenty of people enjoying the early Spring sunshine. On our way back, we had to make a detour to the Ludlow Brewery & Tap Room. This is a very dog friendly place in which we also saw another beagle enjoying a relaxing time.
You’re too young to drink beer, Lenny.
After a while we had to make our train home and strolled to the station for the journey home.
Once more Lenny and I tried to make friends with the other passengers, whilst trying to eat all the tasty morsels dropped onto the floor. We travelled past Stokesay Castle which was built in the 1280’s by very rich wool merchants. It’s looked after now by English Heritage. Stokesay appears in the Domesday Book so it is a very old settlement.
We will visit Stokesay Castle one day soon, although we aren’t allowed inside the building.
Off the train and hurried back across the field, we were deposited into our beds for a snooze after a successful trip. We are going to Ludlow again, more than likely on a quieter day than Saturday market. It seems very dog friendly and we want to get the chance of checking out more places.
My friends, I have been quiet recently and now I think it is time I let you all know why I have not been on here as much as I would like.
Lenny and I noticed that over the last few months of 2023, and more so until now in early 2024, that quite a few things have been disappearing into boxes and stored away into rooms that we are not allowed access to. We thought it was weird as we had encountered this before when we were told that we had been moved from our house with the lovely garden in the Chilterns to a posh new kennel, sorry a posh new house, closer to the seaside in West Sussex. What made us more suspicious was that we had also been taken out on short walks at different times of the day over the course of about 4-6 weeks, but we weren’t complaining as it was a walk, after all. Gradually our toys and beds were hidden away over the last few months and we were being barred from some rooms in the house.
Goodbye kitchenLenny, get out of bed!
We weren’t even allowed to say goodbye properly to our old house as we were made ready for our journey.
Is that it? Where are all my toys?
Well, it seems that our parents have hoodwinked us both again as we were loaded into the car and driven north by northwest for a few hours to be deposited in a half furnished house that had some of our beds, toys and food already in place.
Mum decided to take the busiest part of the motorway.
We recognised the smell of the house as it was where we had met up with our friend Griff back in November 2023 when we stayed for a week, apparently for a holiday. Yesterday the men who had stolen all our things on Tuesday arrived at the new house to give them all back to us. We were of course very happy to see them again and greeted them accordingly. We weren’t allowed to help the men though, for some reason. We made sure that our beds, food and toys were unboxed very quickly.
Some of our stuff (please ignore the Tring Brewery bags. Dad is to blame)
Sadly that also meant that the leads and harnesses came out of the boxes far, far too early for our liking.
This is now our “forever kennel” so Lenny and I can enjoy ourselves when the parents get the stuff sorted out. We have explored the field opposite, pulled our parents along the lane in front of the house, Lenny has been off lead in our lovely new garden and we have spent the last two nights sleeping merrily in our beds. It hasn’t stopped raining yet, which is a pity. We can see sheep in the field, we’ve watched a Red Kite take off from the hedge in front of the house and even saw a bat flitting around in the dusk on our walk last evening. All in all it’s a good start to our new life and home in Shropshire. We are promised walks to so many different places that we want to go and see them all at once. We have some tour guides lined up for when we are sorted out in the house a little more, which will be good as it might stop raining by then.
Our new kennel.
We will try to write more often once we have some of our belongings a little more sorted out.
As regular readers will know, I am not one to grumble about things. I like to try and be positive, don’t you know.
I woke up eight days ago and wondered why I felt a bit yucky and then thought “I need to make a trip to the garden quickly”. Thankfully a parent assisted in clearing the way for my emergency dash. Lenny just looked out of his giant clam shell cave bed, yawned and went back to sleep.
An hour or so later I needed to repeat the trip and, again, a parent made sure I was in the garden in time. Over the next four days or so nobody apart from Lenny got much sleep whilst I went on a restricted diet, starved for a day in case it was something nasty, was fed my worming tablet and then went onto bland chicken and rice. I have no idea how it can be considered “bland” when you haven’t eaten anything for four days. Anyway, on Monday I was off to the vet in the company of my dad who proceeded to inform the vet of all of my inner most secrets. I didn’t authorise release of the information but apparently they are worried about me so it was justified. Having been prodded, poked, squeezed and had the stethoscope applied I then had to endure the dreaded “furmometer”. Apart from being ill, I was told I was in fine fettle for a dog of my age. The diagnosis was that I may have become intolerant to a food that I have been eating. At this stage I thought it best not to admit to the dirty puddle I had licked or the various other non edible stuff that I had sniffed, licked and digested on my walks. The vet had ruled those out however, so I was in the clear.
The chicken and rice continued to appear in tiny portions in my food bowl and the biscuits have all but disappeared from the menu. There was a strangely tasty paste applied to my meagre breakfasts and dinners. Subsequent nights have passed wherein the parents have been kept awake by a tummy that gurgles like a pan on the stove. I have also been restless throughout the nights whilst during the day I have enlisted the help of Lenny so we can use a double dose of the begging eyes when we are starving hungry. As beagles we are always starving hungry even if we have eaten ten minutes ago but this is by the by.
Last night my tummy didn’t gurgle. Today I did something for the first time in nine days, that made my parents happy. I shall not go into the gory details. I am still listless, tired and starving hungry. It seems that as an older fur it will take longer for me to recover from ailments which means more sleepless nights for those who look after me. Even Lenny backed off from playing bitey face with me as he can tell that I am not quite right. I actually caught him oozing out of his bed, with his head on my bed, early this morning. I will let it pass for the time being though.
I must remember that things take longer the older you become. I have to remind myself to slow down which is something I have never understood before. Take time to smell the roses, sniff the breeze and feel the sun on your face. But don’t drink dirty water or eat awful stuff on your walk.
Sometimes you hear news that knocks you sideways. Today is one of those days. If I may indulge you for a short time.
Since I started my career on the platform formerly known as Twitter I have been blessed with many and varied friends. Some I have met, some I have always longed to meet. This missive is about a friend who falls into the latter category and who, now, I deeply regret not meeting.
Hamish is the name of the friend concerned. It was on 29 January 2009 he arrived into this world unlikely to know the extent of joy and happiness he was about to shower upon those who followed him, laughed with him and read his witty and erudite comments through the last 15 years. He was the Admiral of the Brunicorn, wit, raconteur, sports brain, historian of Glasgow and beyond, traveller, his mums cuddles monkey and general all-round good egg. He was one of the first to greet me when I arrived in December 2013 and he welcomed me with typical wit and charm. Through his friendship I am an honorary member of the BT Posse. I am more educated than I was in so many subjects ranging from Aberdeen FC through to the Emirates flights arriving into Glasgow Airport. I have learned about the fancy headgear of one Duke of Wellington in Glasgow and the navigational hazards of Loch Lomond whilst piloting a Brunicorn.
However what I have learned the most is this. Friends are great, those who stand by you and watch as you get older and are always there to lend a paw are wonderful. Those who entertain, make us laugh, feel sad or cry are excellent. To be able to do all of these is a testament to the power of the Hamish. He has so many pals who today are grieving his passing. There is a feeling of sadness, despair and hollowness within our hearts. That said, there seems to be a sense of gratitude that he touched so many of our lives with his wit, charm and insight into many parts of our lives. We may feel sad and hollow today but tomorrow and the days after, we will remember what he said and the way he made us laugh or feel enriched.
We cannot go on forever, this is a given. All I say is that it is a privilege and an honour to know Hamish and to be his friend. That he has been my buddy makes me sad he is gone but content that he has been here. Run free my friend, go scamper in the everlasting meadow where the gentle sun warms your fur. Find those who have gone before and rest easy from your worldly woes.
Hamish. Arrived 29 January 2009 and departed 8 January 2024. Gone from sight but never from mind or hearts. I salute you.
My usual run down of what happened, or didn’t, in 2023.
January.
Having had my diagnosis just before Christmas 2022, I knew that January 2023 wasn’t going to be a particularly busy month. It turned out exactly as I had anticipated. On 6th January I was drugged, turned upside down and had my right cruciate ligament jiggled about with. I came home the following day and wasn’t allowed out of my living room without an attendant parent. There was no bitey face with Lenny. He got bored.
February.
This month started as January ended. I was still not “allowed” upstairs, I was going to physio once a week and I was banned from bitey face with Lenny. My leg was healing and I wanted to be out and about. I was being restrained by anxious parents who didn’t want me to undo all the good work. The physio lady had to remember she was dealing with a thirteen year old beagle and not one much younger, when I was getting my exercises. I got caught upstairs, laying on a bed. I didn’t get told off. Lenny was still bored without play time.
March.
Lenny and I got to interact a little. We might, or might not, have engaged in some bitey face in the living room. And the dining room, the kitchen, the utility and a bedroom. Oops. He did tell me that he missed me when I was being made into the Six Million Dollar dog though. We went on short walks as I was still officially not back to normality so we went to see nanny and grandad resting place. On the last day of March we went to the beach with Griff and his parents. It was blowing a hoolie but we loved it.
April.
The sun came out, it got warmer and we were allowed out into the garden, all the while supervised in case I did something silly. I was feeling much better and even the physio was surprised at my speed of recovery. I chilled on the grass and was allowed on short walks so I could regain some strength in my leg. Lenny went on longer walks and found some bluebells.
May.
Loaded into the car we had no idea where we were going. All we knew is that it took hours to get there and when we arrived it smelled of the seaside. We had a week in Cornwall, a place called Sennen Cove. My leg was feeling better and stronger each day and we managed to see plenty of places all the while having great fun. We spent the rest of the month recuperating, although I had another few days in the Cone of Shame thanks to picking up sand flies from the beach and pampas grass.
June.
Phew what a scorcher. It was way too warm when Smudgey & Ted arrived for a play date. Not that it stopped shenanigans. We went to the Paw Paddock and then to the pub to cool off. The remainder of June was spent recovering and trying to stay cool. Lenny checked up on his flowers.
July.
July was a time for trying to find crickets and grasshoppers to eat, as well as adventures to Leonardslee Gardens which is near to our home, as we have now found out. It was great and even has a Deer Park.
August.
The parents worked whilst the heat grew and we retreated to various cooler rooms during the day. It was Lenny’s birthday. He is now five, although he usually acts in a way that would make you think he is older. I, on the other paw, do not.
September.
We found ourselves in the car again, as we turned north and didn’t decamp until we were in our favourite place, The Lake District. Eskdale was our place of residence for a week of running around and having fun. We met Sasha, watched in awe as she rolled in Fox do-do, we went on a train, walked for miles, gazed at views, climbed small hills and paddled in cooling streams. For some reason we were tired for the rest of September.
October.
We had a nice day out with Smudgey & Ted in Brighton shortly before they went off to the new maison. Stanmer Park was great and we pulled like steam trains all the time we were there. The days were getting shorter and we were trying to solve the riddle of why we don’t get treats when we want them.
November.
Bundled into the car once more, we had a week staying near Griff’s house in Shropshire. The parents muttered something about the best Christmas present for Lenny and I. We didn’t understand and still don’t but we will apparently find out soon enough. We walked and walked with Griff, went to Ludlow and the parents got Cinnamon buns, whilst Lenny and I were forced to improve our begging skills.
December.
So it’s a year since my operation and the Christmas tree made an appearance. We allowed the parents to do their “work” thing whilst we helped them by being furry foot warmers. The paths got muddier, the days got shorter and now Christmas is upon the horizon. I had my tenth Gotcha Day, celebrating the day I strolled into their lives.
To sum up, it’s been an excellent year after a bit of a dodgy start. We’ve met loads of pals, been to plenty of lovely places and had far too much excitement for our parents nerves. And their shoulders. We have lost way, way too many pals this year which makes me feel sad and mortal. As I continue into my dotage, I know that I will one day join the ranks of those who have fallen by the wayside. Until then, I am going to enjoy it.
Happy New Year to you all, may it be peaceful and bring you comfort.
As my friends will vouch for, I hate having any attention. However I would just like to say thank you to my parents for rescuing me and bringing me into a life of safety and love on 17th December 2013. Ten years and eleven Christmas holidays spent looking after them and ensuring they don’t do anything silly. No wonder I look exhausted.
To illustrate my point I give you the following photographic evidence through the ages from the first Christmas to the current day. Someone pass the eye mask and face cream (as long as it hasn’t been tested on animals) as I am feeling a little weary.
From this fresh faced young lad
And this is now. My, how I have aged.
Wise hound (apparently).
I’m a lucky lad, as many of my friends have fallen by the wayside. Here’s hoping for another anniversary of my arrival in December 2024.
Well here I am once more seeking to justify my lack of blog entries over the last few weeks. I cannot excuse myself from my inability to blog more often, I am merely becoming older and those things that took a short time a while back now seem to be taking longer. You know the sort of thing, going upstairs, eating breakfast, climbing into one of my eleven beds (I have to share some of them with Lenny!) and bimbling around the garden amongst others.
In any case there hasn’t been a great deal happening apart from meeting up with Smudgey & Ted and their parents of course for a stroll around Stanmer park before they went off for a life affirming sojourn to European pastures. I did manage to pull like a freight train around Stanmer Park dragging mum behind me. I am not sure whether the muttering was directed at me or if it was complimentary. I was too busy pulling, snorting and trying to breath in every scent and sight as well as letting everyone else know I was there.
That’s me on the left, being quiet
Back home for a few weeks it seems that Lenny and I have to be subjected to something called “watching the parents work and being quiet”. We can adequately achieve one of those goals but doing both at the same time is often beyond our capacity. It appears that this “work” they do allows us to be kept in the comfort we deserve and require so we aren’t allowed to complain too loudly.
I was in the garden last week for a pre bed time wander with Lenny. We are allowed out so we can do what we need to do and then we are forced to laze about in our beds (he has a cave bed befitting a vampiric being) all night. I have the unfortunate trait of getting acid reflux so I need to eat small amounts regularly through the day and night so constant sleep for everyone is a little unusual to be honest. When I wake up I tend to wake up Lenny and then we work our canine magic on mum who dishes out the treats. This can happen 3-4 times a night so we’ve got used to seeing the parents wake up and stagger around looking like zombies from a B-Movie in the morning. Anyway back to the garden and pre bed strolling. Dad accompanies us outside on these occasions and he was watching me to make sure I “behave”. He shone the torch toward me, I looked up at him and he felt very sad to see that my eyes had greyed over, and my coat glistened all white in the torch light. I wandered back and got some tickles but I could feel the sadness in his fingers as he stroked my ears. The realisation had hit him that I am an old fella now. As I lolloped (look it up) upstairs to bed I could hear him sighing behind me.
The magician and his apprentice
This picture was taken when we were allegedly plotting chicanery and shenanigans. Mum saw it and felt so sad because she said I look so old. I’m thirteen and a half apparently, I am a bit shaky when I am trying to relax, if I exert myself when walking then my legs start shaking and I have to approach the leap onto the sofa or chair as a leap of faith. I am on some pills to try and stop me aching so much and sometimes they work. I still grumble quite a bit when I am getting belly rubs.
I’m not sure about this growing old malarkey but I will approach it with my usual aplomb and lack of complaint.
Somewhat later than I would have anticipated I must relate a tail of adventures that happened to Lenny and myself recently.
It started like any normal Friday morning back on 8th September. We were rudely awoken and found ourselves harnessed ready for something unexpected. We were whisked away for a short stroll and returned to find the car loaded and ready. Duly cajoled into our travel crates we turned north and we decided to settle down for a while. First stop and we are out, walked fed and watered then loaded back into our comfy crate beds for the next leg. After a few more hours we find ourselves being walked around a noisy motorway service area for a leg stretch and then reloaded. We seem to be getting used to this. The traffic increased, our speed slowed and the exasperation from the driver also got louder. Eventually we left the motorway and I could feel the palpable sense of relief. Another hour or so and we found ourselves at a big gate on the bottom of a driveway leading to a different house. As the boot was opened we smelt the familiar scent of the Lakes. Our parents had hoodwinked us again, we were on holiday in my favourite place.
Muncaster Fell
Time for some shenanigans I thought. Sadly I was swiftly over ruled and we were told to behave whilst the car was emptied. Then it was off around the village to get our bearings and have a jolly good sniff about, followed by a trip to the pub to “see what its like”.
Saturday dawned and we wondered if the view was the same as when we arrived. Thankfully it was the same so we decided to wander round the village, scent all the local critters and get to know Oscar the black Labrador who lived in the house opposite. I remembered him and we renewed acquaintances. Then we strolled about some more, returned to the house to allow our breakfast to be made and then took off on a woodland walk to scent more local wildlife. Lenny was loving all the new places to explore and we set a fair pace. I’m not so sure, however, that the parents enjoyed seeing all the ticks that seemed to be attaching themselves to my fur as we strolled along. I was being examined and then having the little blood suckers removed far too regularly. We took it easy for the remainder of the day as it was still humid and we didn’t want to overdo it. In the early evening we ended up back at the pub, on the pretence that the beer needed to be checked for quality. It passed muster apparently.
Ssshh, if we pretend to be asleep, we might get treats.
Sunday was Irton Pike day. There are a number of hills in the Lake District that are known as Wainwrights. Iron Pike is one of them I think. People like to try and climb all 214 of them. Lenny had never been on one of them, so we treated him. We set off for the short car journey to the bottom of the hill. Having decamped from the car we set off at some pace up the stony track and through the edge of the woods. Apparently I sound like a puffing billy steam train when I pull on the lead. It makes them wince as I don’t seem to remember I am 13 and had a serious operation some 9 months earlier. In any case we pulled our way through the gate, over the stile and along the narrow path through the woods, to the summit of Irton Pike.
Irton Pike, Lenny had conquered a Wainwright
As we came out from the woods we were greeted by the sight of another beagle called Monty who had conquered the peak. We conversed with one another in the usual beagle manner and then saw the rain coming in from the coast, so thought it wise to descend as we didn’t have our waterproof coats with us. Lenny seemed quite pleased with his efforts. Once we had returned home we needed to make sure that there were no intruders so we kept a lookout for everyone who walked past.
Repel all boarders, Lenny.
Our parents decided we would try a different pub that evening, so off we wandered to see if the beer tasted different to the previous night.
As Monday arrived it was decided for us that we would stroll along the river side path to Dalegarth (Boot). It was a fairly flat walk with plenty of scents to keep Lenny and I occupied. To be honest we were already feeling a bit tired after a few days of this more strenuous lifestyle and, if I had been offered another 30 minutes in bed, I would have accepted. Anyway, early morning stroll out of the way, we set off tackle the path alongside the River Esk, leading toward Hardknott Pass. I’d walked it before and its great fun. Through the fields and gates, up through the woods and then down toward the river so we can have a paddle and a drink of the fresh water.
Stump club king
After a while we turned around as I was pulling like a train and there was concern that I would do “myself an injury”. The rest was welcome when we returned to the house, with Lenny and I both grabbing some snoozes in between watching everyone who passed the window. Off to the pub again in the evening to see if the beer quality had changed. Lenny and I just slept on our settle mats. Then we crashed into our beds for some serious sleep back at the house.
When we awoke on Tuesday we had no idea of what we were about to do. Our early morning walk went without a hitch and we had breakfast. Off out once more we skirted along the path at the base of Muncaster Fell, passed the farm and then turned right onto the Esk Trail. Lenny looked at me, I reciprocated and we both got ready to enjoy what lay ahead. We strolled along the path until it veered off up a fairly steep hill which seemed to go on for about two weeks. The path wound its way up, and eventually back down, toward Muncaster Castle. Sadly we weren’t going to the Castle as we found out by strolling past. On to Ravenglass we went and found ourselves dipping our toes in the brackish seawater of the estuary.
Lenny, look out for dead washed up stuff.
We were tired so when we heard that we wouldn’t have to walk back, this was a blessing. Lenny had never been on the La’al Ratty steam train. Its run by the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway and was originally used to bring Iron Ore from the Fells out to Ravenglass for onward carriage to Barrow, and transporting the workers on the return leg into the Fells. Once the trade stopped the railway eventually was used for holiday passengers. So there we were, boarding the little train to travel back to Irton Road and our home for the week. Lenny looked a little concerned getting on board so we tried to reassure him that all was ok.
Don’t worry Lenny it’s alright.
He started to relax a little once he could see the views as we travelled along. Secretly we both were glad to rest our legs after a nearly eight mile walk. Back at the house we rested again until it was time to test out the pub once more.
As Wednesday surfaced the day seemed to be bright but Lenny and I were feeling the effects of our previous days walk. We wandered slowly around on our, now customary, morning sojourn through the village and gratefully consumed our breakfast. Into the car and off we went, with the hills becoming smaller as we drove away from them. We needn’t have worried if the holiday was over, as we quickly found ourselves deposited at the beach at Drigg. A good stroll along the beach was in prospect and, maybe, the chance to eat some rotten dead washed up stuff. We set off at a great pace, as the sandy beach stretched away in front of us. Sadly for us, our parents were aware that a large number of beached jellyfish littered the sand ahead and we were stopped from investigating these creatures, with the excuse that we would get stung and the vet bill would come out of our food and treat allowance. In any case we strolled, aroooed at the seagulls, tried to walk up the sand dunes and tried not to lick the seawater.
A fun time.
Having gone for some miles we turned for home and retraced our paw prints to the car. Lenny fairly leapt into his travel crate, which is generally a sign that he’s enjoying himself. Back to the house for some rest and food, after which we wandered along to the pub to see what was happening. As we turned into the pub car park, a familiar face greeted us. It was auntie J who had come along for a few days and brought Sasha with her. We had not met Sasha before so we spent a short time having a road walk and then into the pub for some rest whilst the parents chattered. As we left, the heavens opened and by the time we got to the house, everything was soaked through.
We awoke on Thursday amid some excitement. The parents had made arrangements to meet up with Sasha and auntie J and we were going to walk along the river path again. Having strolled around the village first thing, we were fed and then told we had to behave ourselves when we are out with Sasha. I looked at Lenny who looked at me. Of course we will! We met up at the train station and strolled along the roads to the bridge where we turned left and started on the trail. We scented everything and then watched in awe as Sasha was released from her lead. We watched with delight as she promptly found some fox poop to roll in. She might be a little cutie, but she’s also a proper beagle and we were very proud of her. As we wandered along Sasha was being gradually cleaned with wet grass and eventually we managed to arrive at Boot where we decamped to the pub for some lunch.
I didn’t mean to roll in it, honestly.
Wandering back to the La’al Ratty train station we boarded the train for the journey back to Irton Road. Lenny was much better on this journey, even sticking his head over the side of the carriage to see where we were going. Arriving at the station, Lenny and Sasha decided to graze on same grass whilst I wriggled and arooed as I was bored and trying to escape.
One of their five a day
The adults said they would meet up later so we went our separate ways for a while. We had a quick walk around the village, saw Oscar and then went back to the house for some snoozes. In the evening we met at the Bowerhouse Inn for some food and general chatter. Sasha took up her now usual spot just inside the pub so she could meet and greet everyone who came in, or left. Lenny and I just slept as we were feeling the effects of our holiday exertions. When the time came to leave there was a solemnity amongst the adults and we were told to say goodbye (nicely) to Sasha. Lenny gave her a nose bump whilst I arooed loudly.
Friday morning broke, the clouds scudded across the sky and we found ourselves being harnessed for an early morning walk around the village with only one parent. As we returned to the house we found the car was full of our gear. We leapt into the travel crates and settled down, as this meant only one thing. The car was pointed south and we left the Lakes behind as we returned home. We had a great time in Eskdale, we explored, scented, sniffed, aroooed and best of all smiled the whole time. We enjoyed very much returning to the Bowerhouse Inn with its great food, excellent dog snacks and good beer. Lenny had climbed a Wainwright so he was proud of that achievement. We had met Sasha who is lovely and very funny when she’s doing naughty things. I hope we get to return one day but, for now, I am still catching up on my sleep.
As the UK seems to be basking in an autumnal heatwave (the thermometer on the shed is currently reading 39C!) I thought I would take you back to the field behind my previous house.
February 2019, Chesham, Buckinghamshire.
Only another few months and it will be Christmas! I know, I will sshh now.
I thought I would let Lenny have some happiness on his birthday. We think it was his birthday yesterday but as a rescue we aren’t wholly certain. Anyway he seemed to enjoy the extra treats, venison chews and excessive belly rubs administered by our parents.
So. I have been quiet on here recently as we have had many things going on and we’ve not been around too much. Weekends appear to have morphed into busy, almost working, days so Lenny and I are feeling a bit sidelined.
On one of our rare moments of relaxation last Saturday I spied the sofa in the distance. It was adorned with my cushions, arranged pretty much how I like them and my little vampiric brother hadn’t yet decided to infest my snoozing place. As I made my way to the edge of the sofa I readied myself for the leap and subsequent flop down into lazing position. I took off, bellied the front of the sofa, bounced backwards and landed in a big heap. All this was much to the horror of my mum who quickly came to my assistance. I was alright but I did notice there weren’t any treats proferred to assuage the anguish I had suffered. I looked at the sofa, looked at Lenny’s cave bed, lost heart a bit at my inability to launch onto the sofa and decided to go and curl up onto of the cave bed. I got up after a while to stroll about and it was noticed that I was walking a little stiffly. I had maybe had bashed myself about somewhat. That evening I stood at the foot of the stairs and looked longingly up. I had lost all my confidence in climbing stairs, I was limping and feeling sorry for myself. Until dad scooped me up and deposited me on the landing so I could have a flat walk to my bed.
I awoke the following day and plodded very slowly downstairs. As I was placed in my harness I heard it muttered that I was going for a walk separately to Lenny so mum and I set off along the lane past the stables whilst Lenny and dad went down the lane and past the church. Anyway long story short I was still stiff and a bit limpy when I returned so it was decided for me that I was going off to the vet on Monday. When the fateful hour arrived I bravely made my way there, dragging mum along for company. She told the vet all of my innermost secrets of which I hadn’t authorised disclosure and then I was examined from top to tail. The diagnosis is that I am a fit and healthy beagle harrier apart from having what looks to be spinal degeneration and possibly some disc misalignment in my spine close to my back legs. Apparently this is quite normal in older dogs (I think they were talking about me?) and the situation needs to be “managed”. So I am being told to calm down more often, I’m not allowed so much bitey face with Lenny and my parents are administering some pills and potions in my dinner that seem to be making me sleepy and very relaxed in the evening. I conjured up the courage to leap upon my side of the sofa and I can plod upstairs slowly now. I have an attendant parent to make sure I am ok when I try to do something strenuous which is of course extremely embarrassing and not doing my rufty tufty image any good whatsoever.
I have to realise that I am an older dog now, I can do most things that younger dogs do, but just a bit slower and more carefully. I’m alright, I just have to slow down and adapt.
Live life like you mean it. Dodge the curve ball when it’s heading for you. And don’t get disheartened as there is usually someone there to pick you up, dust you off and give you a big kiss on the bonce.
Dexter 