Some days you wake up and the sun is shining, the birds are singing and those pesky squirrels are frolicking in your garden. You hear the dawn chorus and think to yourself “Hmm, life is good today”. Breakfast is completed, the harness goes on and I am out for sniffing and snuffling around the lanes nearby to my house. Second part of breakfast duly proferred and then its onto my bed for some morning snoozes. Aah, this is the life.
But what is this, my harness is going back on, my mum looks a little apprehensive and dad looks like he’s taking me out. Again! Up the road we go. Quickly, quickly no time to lose. It appears I have to be somewhere on time. At the station I am ushered through the barriers and the overground train arrives. On we get and my settle mat makes an appearance. This is serious, dad means business. For forty odd minutes I watch the world go by, including Harrow and Wembley with its huge arch cutting the sky. Then suddenly it all goes dark. What is this witchcraft I wonder, nighttime in the daytime. We arrived at Marylebone Station in London. OMD I am actually in London, the capital, the big smoke. Cough cough splutter this air tastes horrible.
We stroll some back roads until we arrive somewhere called Regents Park.
I have heard of this place, and it doesn’t disappoint me. I saw 4 squirrels , yes 4 of the little blighters and I of course had to introduce myself. Having crossed the Euston Road we then entered the bowels of London at Great Portland Street and took a trip on the smelly choob to somewhere called Liverpool Street. I surfaced onto Bishopsgate to a tumult of people and a single fur. Indeed, there were 2 of us amongst the throngs of people. Stay close, dad said. Stay close. Dont lick that, its disgusting he said. After I allowed dad to use my ibone to make a call, we met with one of the people he worked with in London and I got my first ride in a lift. Upon arriving in the office, I was greeted by many more people in the office, all wanting to give me tickles and cuddles and generally make a fuss of me. I cannot woof that I can blame them. We stayed for a while and they chatted whilst I slept and mooched about getting more tickles, cuddles and a considerable amount of love. I could get used to this. After a while I got a bit bored and needed to dexplore more of the area and reminded dad that it was time to go.
We strolled (I pulled) up Cornhill to Bank to see the Bank of England and the Royal Exchange. Thence down Walbrook and across Cannon Street, along the river to Southwark Bridge and across the mighty river Thames.
We strolled past Shakespeare’s Globe and back over the wobbly bridge over the river Thames to St Pauls, gleaming tall and majestic in the near distance. Around St Pauls, into Paternoster Square and up to Postman’s Park for some quiet reflection and thanks to the people who selflessly gave their lives to save others.
We arrived at Barbican station and caught the choob to Baker Street and then strolled (quickly) to Marylebone Station for our homeward journey.
I was out on my paws when I got back onto the overground train, I curled up on my settle mat and dreamed of my day dexploring some brilliant and wicked places in London.
I met lovely people, saw some brilliant places, walked through millennia of history and even managed to cross a wobbly bridge. And to top it all, dad just told mum I was perfectly behaved.
A top day of dexplorations and I have proud ears. Now I am off to sleep and dream. I really am the luckiest Beagle Harrier I know.