Different day, different field

Another warm and sultry day starts in my home town. The weather is set fair, the parents are going to be busy, so Lenny and I are on our toes early. We too have supervising to do in the garden, when we return from our walk. Ok we usually have our eyes shut, or we are playing bitey face in the middle of the lawn, but we are still aware of what is going on around us.

We are suitably shackled to our respective parent and off we go. We pass the pub, cross the road, wade through the river which crosses the lane and still hasn’t been fixed despite many, many calls from people to the local authority, to find ourselves with a view of the countryside becoming greener and noisier with the birds and creatures in the hedgerows and fields each day. The Lapwings swoop and circle, the geese sit on their precarious nest, the rabbits run scared back to their burrow and the foxes watch it all with anticipation from their hiding places in the woods. Along the lanes we march, sniffing and scenting all the time, in the vain hope that our parents won’t be looking when we dart into the hedge and come back with a live rabbit. Sadly another day passes without any prey actually being caught. Maybe I am losing my touch, who knows.

Off the lane, along the path past the barn and then turn left up the steep hill. This is the section where our parents are glad that we pull and yank on our leads as we drag them up to the top of the gravel path and into the relative calm and quiet of the stroll through the woods along the edge of the field full of wheat swaying gently in the summer breeze.

Descending we are reined in fully so as not to go too wild eyed if we see a squirrel cross our path. Cross the lane and into the field with the horses. Lenny has learned that if he is quiet and respectful then they are actually quite friendly.

He used to bay at them, however, now he whimpers a little and shakes to let them know he’s friendly. We are getting used to the kissing gates at the edge of the fields and then it is back along the road, through the river, past the pub which mum and dad will visit once it re-opens. Alongside the river and soon we are through the door to our house. We have our paws and bellies wiped clean and then its time to squabble until breakfast is served.

Time for supervising in the garden. Our various beds are put out in numerous locations on the patio, however we ignore them for the first twenty minutes or so, as we are still busy chasing each other around the garden having fun. We are baying at the top of my voice, barrelling into one another, fighting in a heap on the grass and then end up laying next to each other exhausted. I think this maybe a subliminal message from mum and dad that if we are tired we are quieter. Anyway, once we have made sure that the garden is secure from invaders and all scent trails have been relentlessly pursued we settle down to ensure that our grounds are tended to our satisfaction.

Lenny will get pieces of twig and small branches and deliberately chew them in the middle of the lawns. This ensures that the grass is cut regularly. I will make certain that all the holes we kindly dug over the preceding days and weeks are in exactly the right places for a beagle. Whether they’re in the correct places for mum and dad to plant flowers and shrubs, well, thats not my problem. Lenny has recently started to check on the growing rhythms of the carrot seedlings which were put out in the vegetable patch earlier this week. For some reason he keeps getting told to “get off the soil and stop trampling on the seedlings”. We are always on hand to help with the watering of whichever shrubs and plants look like they need a bit of a dousing. We have been known to do the watering whilst mum or dad have been on the plant nearby. Again they don’t seem too enamoured by our assistance.

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Lenny and I are proud of our efforts to make sure the garden is kept neat and tidy, fully stocked with plenty of pollen fuelled plants for the bees and ensure that the tracks across the flower borders which are not the racetracks that Lenny and I use regularly to maintain our fitness are kept weed free for mum and dads access. I suppose we are lucky to have a nice garden which we enjoy. I don’t take it for granted by any stretch of my imagination as I know there are others who cannot enjoy a little bit of colour outside their house.

We will continue to try and ensure that our garden is up to scratch. It’s difficult as one parent in particular doesn’t seem to listen to our advice. He seems to believe we are messing about and squabbling in the middle of the lawn, when we are actually giving him guidance. If only he knew.