rescuedogdexter

Arooo Charley Beagle

I seem to be writing these blogs on friends passing over the rainbow bridge far too often for my liking. I wish I didn’t have to consider what to write about friends, both near and far, who I have met personally or known through the medium of social media.

I have had the privilege, nay the honour, of knowing Charley Beagle since my very early days on Twitter. He was one of my first friends and I knew immediately that he and his spaniel brother Boot were fun, friendly and good pals to know and woof with. He lived in the countryside in Shropshire, UK and was always regaling us with his tales of sheep herding, chicken corralling, chatting with cows and helping the farmers out with their daily tasks in the fields and meadows. Both Charley and Boot were wonderfully gentle and understanding with all the other creatures they came into contact with. The sheep took a shine to Boot and the various videos made everyone smile and laugh.

Charley would tell us what it was like on the hills around his house, making us jealous of his adventures, including strolling to the pub and getting tickles and food from the landlord or the regulars at the bar. He would be out in all weathers to enjoy the seasons and bring us all the lovely views and vistas into Wales and Shropshire. A good hearted country dog who had the best of all worlds with love and friendship amidst the knowledge of a warm bed and the promise of more adventures to sleep and dream about.

I first met Charley in December 2016 just before Christmas. It was an annual gathering near Sheffield in Yorkshire to place memorials to those people and their fur buddies who had departed that year and remember those who we loved and missed. There were a few of my twitter pals there. I saw Charley straight away and he was eager to get on with the walk and sniff new smells and explore new places. At the cafe afterwards all the parents were eating cakes and drinking coffee. Charley was quite happy to let his brother Boot take all the limelight, and he was happy to sniff around. I don’t think his tail stopped wagging all day.

I met Charley again in April 2018. We were at the Beagle World Record Attempt for the biggest single breed dog walk, held at Macclesfield near Manchester. We greeted each other like it was only yesterday, he was the same happy beagle I remembered and we walked together having a great day all the while. We parted company with a brilliant friendship intact between us Beagle brothers.

Charley had a wonderful holiday to the Scottish Islands this year and the pictures sent back showed that he was enjoying his life and adventures and showed no signs of slowing up. Live every day, and live it properly seemed to be his motto.

To wake up this morning to the horrible saddening news that Charley had taken the longest journey last evening just knocked the stuffing out of me. That he didn’t seem to suffer and “went to sleep” gives me some comfort in my heart. The pain in my heart is for his parents and his brother, Boot. He leaves a huge hole in their collective hearts as he does with all who knew him, met him and laughed with him. I patrolled in your honour today Charley.

That he will be missed will never be doubted. That he will always be remembered fondly and and with a smile is equally undoubted. Charley Beagle I salute you as a good friend and funny beagle pal with a warm and generous presence. I salute you as a fur who enjoyed life to the full, who laughed and cried with the rest of us.

Enjoy the blackberries in the everlasting meadow, I’ve heard they are the biggest and juiciest ones. Rest easy mate. Until we meet again. Always farewell and never goodbye.

Knocked for six

There is a quote in Britain that can be applied for both good and bad news. I woke up this morning and had a spring in my paw and a smile on my face. I managed to get a wonderful long walk and came back to breakfast and then some snoozes. The day was wonderful and I was enjoying the lovely weather, patrolling my garden and chasing pigeons. Then I looked at my Twitter account and my day crashed to a most unceremonious halt.

One of my best friends, who lives in Argentina, had been ill recently and had been to the vets for various ailments. I heard he had pneumonia and he had been under review for suspected cancer diagnosis. Tommy, for that is his name, went on the longest trip this morning when the vet found he had particularly nasty and aggressive tumours along with the pneumonia. It’s not fair. It’s never fair. I will never understand why anyone or any fur gets this terrible and awful disease. Tommy, I will always remember you and always be grateful for your friendship and love. Siempre va bien, nuncio adios Señor.

Run free good friend, and know that you are always loved by all your friends.

Knocked for six, and in the worst possible way. I have sad ears.

I think I’m staying

Panic over everyone, I think I’m here to stay. Its appears that I have managed to convince the pawrents that I am a good boy.

When I first came into the house, I really didn’t know if I was staying or if it was another temporary stay. I wanted some significant degree of stability, routine and guidance. I had missed out on a large amount of these three staples of puppy hood and I was skittish, directionless and preferred the sound of my own bark rather than listen to my pawrents. Gradually, over 18 months or so, I worked out that they only wanted me to have the best that they could offer. The best love, the best home, the best training and the best all round help that I needed to put me on the straight and narrow. Many things have changed and mostly for the better as far as I concerned. They would worry about taking me out in public as I would bay, pull and generally be unruly.

We went on holiday to the Lake District in Cumbria and on the first night after travelling we we went to the pub, and they were filled with fear and trepidation. I fell asleep on my settle mat, pretty much next to the bar. Upon the first full day there we went on an 11 mile walk. Upon arriving in the pub they were again fearful of my likely shenanigans. However I slept like a baby once more. This continued at some pace. I went to the pub or I would go to the local town for a stroll and I was getting better at being good. We went away for a few days here and there, and my behaviour got better and better. I was starting to listen to my humans a bit more, and I didn’t really realise I was doing it. We were actually getting more in tune with each other. My old life of worry, uncertainty about my fate and my fears over where I was going to be homed next all receded.

At home I was coming when called, I would sleep and snooze and be more relaxed and I wasn’t waking up every time someone left or entered a room. Then I surprised them both about 2 days ago. I was in the garden and saw a tiny blackbird chick on the patio. I barked and barked at my pawrents to let them know to do something. I would have played with the little feathered chap earlier in my life, but I just alerted them to the bird. They had proud ears for me because I did the right thing. I probably scared the bird rigid but I didn’t touch.

My life is different, it has changed for the better. And I do not intend to look back. I’m staying.

Sunday funday

It was mighty warm on Sunday and I had no idea what was in store for me. Hudad fell out of bed as usual and looked bleary eyed at me. Humum went off to make a cup of tea. Within 20 minutes, I was harnessed to the immovable object and we were off on our latest Dexpedition.

The woods are alive with smells and noises early on a Sunday morning and I was in my element. Well, I was in my harness and attached to hudad, but you know what I mean. For some reason the squirrels and deer didnt want to play with me as I strolled through their neighbourhood sniffing, smelling and yelling as I went. Up hill, down dale, left, right, across the road and through the footpaths we went. We went past the fields where the sheep live and they bleated at me. Back into the woods and thence close to the park and finally to the Underground station for our return journey. I do like this particular walk, it gives me the best of all worlds. I have sniffs in the woods, meadow, streets, footpaths, fields and then close by the park. The trip home on the tube train is always exciting.

I just managed to flop, in a tired and frazzled state, onto one of my six beds and thought to myself, what an adventure I have had.

After a few hours, I was harnessed again but this time attached to my humum. Where was I going now? This was unheard of. Two dexpeditions in one day. Was it my birthday? I was confused. Only when we got to the pub did I understand and I laid down quietly on my settle mat to snooze and chill for an hour or so whilst they chatted and chilled out. There were a number of gravy bones secreted in the rucksack which were used to buy my good behaviour in the pub, however this was an acceptable bribe to keep me happy.

What I wasnt expecting was for them to check my harness clips for wear & tear and to find that it might have worn down due to my alleged pulling.

I’m a lucky hound to have adventures and I do often times wonder about the other less fortunate furs than I who don’t have such privileges. I always know where I have come from, and I know how fortunate I am. If you think of getting a dog, please go to the local shelter and see who is there. We are worth it, I promise.

Three dexplore in Dorset

Another day, another adventure. I didn’t think there was anything different than usual. Usual walk, usual route with the usual human grumbling about being dragged around for 4 miles. Having returned home and eaten my breakfast, it was all into the car for another trip to an, as yet, unknown destination.

Three hours later we arrived. I clambered out of the travel crate and into fresh air. I still had no idea where I was, but it looked and smelled different to the close, humid and stale air of London environs. I walked around with humum whilst hudad “checked in” and shifted all my luggage up to our room. Apparently I travel with a large quantity of baggage. When I returned to the pub, which I now know was the Crown Inn at Puncknowle (pronounced Punnel) the room was very nice and cosy and my bed was in the correct position so I was happy.

I was shackled once more to humum and we wandered off for a dexplore. It was lovely countryside and we walked for a couple of miles. I kept on stopping to get a drink as it was warm and the sun was shining. We saw a sign for a place called West Bexington and decided to head down a steep path toward the sea. I had seen the sea before but it was a long way out and it was on flat sandy beaches in the Lake District. When we got to West Bexington beach it was shingle and it sloped down sharply toward the waves. I am not sure I liked the waves and certainly didn’t want to get wet or washed away. We strolled for a while and then returned via the hotel for some refreshments.

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I was very tired when we got back to the pub and fell asleep on one of my beds in the bar.

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The next day started with a walk around the fields, we had breakfast and then into the car for some dexploration. We visited a place called Portesham and then onto Dorchester before travelling west to Bridport. I was allowed out of the car in Bridport. We wandered through the Wednesday market and I said hello to many other dogs. After a long stroll, it was back into the car and off to the Crown Inn once more. The adventure didn’t stop there, as we road walked up to the next village, of Litton Cheney and returned via fields over stiles and small bridges.

I had walked around 9.5 miles so I was very tired. I fell asleep in the bar again, but did have time to wake up when 2 nice ladies wanted to give me tickles.

On my last day we wandered around the fields, had breakfast and then drove to Abbotsbury to take a walk onto Chesil Beach. It was very warm again and we all carried water and tried to shelter as much as possible from the sun. When we got on to Chesil Beach it was another shingle beach and I had to clamber my way to the top, dragging humum behind me. It was great fun. Sadly they decided that I had partied long and hard in Dorset so I should return to my home.

I had a great time, I can recommend the Crown Inn in Puncknowle as it is a very dog friendly establishment. I would also say Dorset in general is a great place to dexplore with lovely people and some great walks and scenery.

Don’t shout it too loud, but without my pawrents I wouldn’t have such a great time.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if I had not adopted my humans in December 2013. I was a lost, lonely & confused Beagle Harrier who wanted, and needed, some regimentation and guidance to set me on the straight path to happiness.

I joined Twitter and started looking for other dogs, mainly Beagles, so we could learn and understand what it is like to have a Beagle Harrier and find out the traits and likely good/bad aspects. One of the first Beagles I corresponded with was Nellie, who moved to Houston in the recent past. Her pawrents were always kind and generous with their advice to my pawrents, and we learned much about what I was like, and what I would be like. We also learned that Nellie was a rescue from a “facility” and that she was free to enjoy her life after a bad start. She had adopted her pawrents in 2006 and lived a life of love, happiness and freedom.

Sadly last night Nellie took the longest journey and her final pawtrol, over the Rainbow Bridge. She had been ill for a while and she was suffering so her pawrents took the terribly difficult decision that all pawrents have to take. We all feel bad, we all feel sad and we all miss her terribly already. However we know that she is out of pain and there is no suffering where she is now. As a member of the BeagleBugClub she also will be watching us all to make sure we don’t cry and feel sad for too long. I am sure she would want us all to think of her fondly as a happy, loved and loving Beagle who we all respected and we all felt privileged to be her friend.

Rest easy dear Nellie, we do miss you, we always will. We are proud to have you as a friend. We know its never goodbye but always farewell. So, until we meet again dear sweet Nellie, bon voyage.

If my life is as full as Nellie’s of the fun and friendship she gave and received, I will be a lucky Beagle Harrier.

Beagle Meet.

Usually when I awake on a Sunday morning, I take a stroll around the fields nearby my house. This Sunday just passed was no different, although we seemed to be in a hurry to get around the walk. Arriving back to see the car being packed with rucksacks and smelling my food somewhere close gave me suspicious ears. When I was loaded into the car and we set off somewhere, I knew I was in for a treat but what could it be.

After 3 hours we arrived somewhere called Capesthorne Hall near Macclesfield. The car boot was opened and the smell of beagle brothers & sisters hit me.

We strolled about, it was a lovely morning after all and we needed to stretch our legs. There were so many Beagles there, I didn’t know which way to look first. I think I arooed at them all, and there seemed to be more arriving every minute. This was like a Beagle paradise. Suddenly I saw my friends Raffa, Charley & Boot strolling towards us. Then we saw Bryher & Tean with them. This was going to be the best day ever. All the humans were very surprised to see us as it seems that my two had decided to keep it a secret so a nice surprise. I think it worked. I arooed with all my pals as we strolled around and the humans were chatting and taking pictures and laughing and being happy. Then I looked around and there were Daisy & Dolly, Bentley, Ruby and so many others I lost count.

We were there to try and break a world record of the most dogs of the same breed walked at the same time. The record is currently held by some Yorkshire Terriers in Mexico, and we were determined to break that record. Even with my limited numerical ability (I count treats on my tongue normally) I could see that there were quite a number of Beagles there.

This is only a very small fraction of the Beagles there. In order to ensure we got the record we had to walk around a course of 1.2 miles and must be registered with electronic tags at the start and finish.

I walked with Raffa (she has a poorly paw)

I walked with Charley

And I tried to walk quicker than my human dad.

There were many other Beagle friends I met and saw, and many of us walked the course and had great fun. Once we had walked and the initial numbers were counted, it seems there were about 1,100 Beagles who completed the course which, if correct, would smash the record held by the Yorkshire Terriers.

I think we should celebrate.

A great day with great pals for a very lucky Beagle.

Is this my furever home?

4 years ago today, I was led down a path to a new home. I had been in rescue twice, been homed once and all before I was two and a half. They think I came from a farm in Wales, but no one really knew. I had no idea what was going on, where I was or what was going to happen. All I knew was the house looked nice, it looked warm and it was cold and sleety outside.

The two people who I adopted looked nice, they seemed quite nervous about the decision to rescue me but I could feel they wanted to look after me. The house was certainly warmer than the kennel, and the garden looked great. I decided to sleep as I didn’t really know what was expected of me. The garden could wait a day or so. I was confused and skittish for quite a while.

It took about 18 months to start to really settle into my new surroundings with the routine of eat, sleep, walk and repeat. Gradually the number of beds increased and the training walks and fun were handed out in buckets. I could get used to this. I have routine, we trust each other.

I am safe, I am secure, I am loved, I have many friends, I am lucky. I owe the greatest debt of gratitude to the people that rescued me. We have persevered with each other, I have moulded them into my Paw Assistants, at my beck and call. I don’t want to think of where I might be if they hadn’t come along and made the life changing decision to give me a home.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you to everyone who has believed in me and helped me and looked out for me. Its good to feel loved and warm and safe.

I have something in my eye.

Remembrance

Today is Remembrance Sunday in the UK. It’s a day when people stop and ponder on what many of their forefathers went through in conflicts to make sure we all had the freedoms we have now. It strikes me as a day upon which we should all remember the sacrifices that people and animals made, voluntarily or otherwise, that have made our lives better now. The animals had no choice.

Usually I woof about having fun pawtrols, dragging my Dad through the fields or helping my Mum find the biggest dirtiest puddles to wade through. However today something was different. It didn’t feel like a fun walk. It was good as there were plenty of sniffs and scents. I even got to see a squirrel in the distance. I just keep on wondering what it might have been like if I was caught in conflict. It gave me a tingle in my fur, and not a nice tingle either.

I am content that I do not have worried ears about going off to fight. I am also soberly reminded of those who have given their lives for freedom, as well as those who came back and the bravery of them all.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Bonfire night & whizzbangs

I want to woof a blog with no pictures, so please bear with me. I know that some humans like Bonfire Night on 5th November. For those outside the UK who aren’t familiar with the ritual, a man called Guy Fawkes and some of his associates tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament with many people inside. They failed, were killed in a grisly & gruesome manner and now it seems their failure and demise is celebrated with big bonfire and burning effigies.

Anyway, if that was the extent of the matter it wouldn’t be the subject of this missive. Oh no, people started getting fireworks and letting them off. They became bigger, and louder and more colourful. Then they became larger still, even more NOISY with the same amount of colour. If only the “celebration” was for one night only.

I am a dog (you may have noticed!). I don’t like fireworks, or whizzbangs. They scare me and I have to hide from them because they are so loud and so noisy. I know of other furs that actually cannot eat for hours after hearing and seeing fireworks, they are so scared by the things. I can understand, kind of, that for one night each year some people like to celebrate the demise of a potential mass killer. But when the fireworks are used to celebrate someones birthday, graduation, passing their driving test, eating all their dinner or seeing auntie Ethel for the first time in three weeks, I do wonder if it’s a little excessive. And don’t get me started on people who just have them to set them off in their gardens or those who decide its really clever to throw them at each other. I despair at this point.

Once a year, at an organised event, even I can see that. I don’t like them, I will cower and try to hide. However, this seems reasonable so I can live with it. However, selling these pyrotechnics to any Joe who walks off the street into the supermarket, I kind of draw a line in my sandpit.

Get people to organised events, sell toffee apples and hot toddy drinks with some sparklers for the small humans. Any money that people would spend on private fireworks, give to a charity to help homeless people or dogs & cats, so the world is a bit of a better place.

I will get off my soapbox now.