Ludlow calling

Last weekend it was decided on our behalf that we would take a little trip to Ludlow. It appears that our assistants had heard about some festive cinnamon buns that were being sold at the local cafe near Ludlow Castle and unless we went to sample the fayre, they may sell out and we would miss out. I hesitate at this point regarding the use of the word “we” as it would be made plainly obvious that particular pronoun was not alluding to beagles.

As we were loaded into our travel crates for the short hop to Bromfield, there was some chatter from the front of the car in relation to the conditions of the lane, whether the correct footwear was used and if a certain beagle would behave himself. I am not sure who this last part is referring to! Down the lane, turn right, turn left, follow the road and turn right at the church. Upon our arrival our pal Griff was being released from his carriage and we made sure he was aware that we had arrived. In fact I think those people in the nearby half mile radius were aware of our presence. Once shackled to an unwilling parent we leapt salmon like from our cells and proceeded to try and walk to Ludlow as quickly as possible all the while forgetting that we were attached to said parent. Initial greetings with Griff were dispensed. We strolled along the lane, over the river, past the gate house, around the next gate and then through the piggery. As happened previously our leads were significantly shortened and we were warned to behave and not eat the treats that were kindly left for us by the resident porcine pals. Parents are no fun sometimes. Lenny also avoided puddles. We continued along the winding lane until we could see the castle and St Laurence church looming on the horizon. Around the bend, over the bridge and four festive pastries were bought, along with coffee to keep the chill at bay. Us beagles sat and waited in a manner in which you expect us to behave, all the while without sampling these delightful festive buns. Lenny and I have a sneaking suspicion that Griff may have got a little corner of bun, but he didn’t let on.

It was decided, again on our behalf, that we would take a more circuitous route for the return journey. So it was that we found ourselves pulling our parents up the steps to Whitcliffe Common and onto the road. Turn right, down the slope and then up onto the No Through Road. This all seemed new and exciting, with plenty of puddles, rivulets coming off the wooded banks and muddy patches to splosh through. Lenny maintained his ability to avoid most of the really dirty areas, which continues to worry both myself and Griff. We were both determined to make up for his cleanliness. As we strolled along the lane a vista opened though a field gate and the Clee Hills showed themselves in the distance. A fine view.

On we journeyed until Griff took a sharp right along a farm track heading back toward the piggery. Once at the piggery our leads were shortened and the now usual instruction was given regarding our scavenging abilities. Through the gate, down the dip, up past the Lady Halton turning and across the river to the car. Five and a half miles of fun, scenting and adventures were over. We were forced to say our goodbyes to Griff who was being towelled down after having had a “dip” in the small stream flowing a way back up the road. Lenny and I then suffered the ignominy of being towelled down to get some of the dirt off of our paws. We slept in the car on the return home and it was as much as we could manage to eat our breakfast once we had been washed and cleaned down. This time we noticed that shampoo was used on us. For the remainder of the day and into the next day we slept soundly and dreamed of our adventures.

We are finding our paws much more now we have been here a while. It is a great walk from Bromfield to Ludlow and we have been promised that we will be shown the longer version of the walk in the new year, once the weather has dried up and the fields and lanes don’t resemble quagmires in places.

Lenny the following day

It is clear that Lenny has no stamina and I am getting older. That’s my excuse for sleeping long and soundly, and I am sticking to it. 😀

Eleven years and counting

Today is the anniversary of my arrival in my rescue home. Eleven years ago I strolled into a house which had two people who would spend their days running around after me to make sure I remain comfortable, safe and loved. And fed of course, very important is the food aspect.

I have managed two house moves, welcomed a new brother and kept everything running smoothly for twelve Christmases now. Little wonder that I have aged and feel a bit wobblier on my paws. Will I make it to next Christmas? Who knows as I am fourteen after all. I am going to try and be around then. In the meantime I suppose I should thank my assistants for looking after me, as well as be grateful to Lenny for being a good pal and brother.

Gotcha Days as they are known in the canine rescue community are special days as we can finally get the chance to feel safer, have a roof over our heads, food in our bowls and be able to say

“I am home, this is good”.

Don’t scratch your ears they said

Having never taken much notice of my servants, I continued to ignore their requests for me to stop scratching my ears with my back paws. I argued that the ears in question were, after all, mine to do with as I wished. Sadly my scratching made my ears raw, they itched more and I scratched more.

So it was that a couple of weeks ago I was loaded into my travel crate and we set off for some exotic and far flung destination. I realised after a short time that Lenny wasn’t in the car with me and this could only mean one thing, that I was off to somewhere neither far flung or exotic. Duly arriving at the vet, I dismounted from my travel crate and found I was expected. The vet was pleased that I had my Cone of Shame already around my neck as this appeared to stop me scratching and making the ears worse. I was thoroughly checked, prodded and poked. Discharged with some new potions and lotions as well as recommendations to my mum I returned home where even Lenny looked at me like I was foolish to keep on scratching my ears without considering the veterinary consequences.

Fast forward a week or so and my life was still blighted by the Cone of Shame. When I had been released from its grip I had immediately started scratching again. So on the orders of the vet I was returned to their custody to be examined. This time however it was with my other parent. I knew I was in trouble as he would tell the vet everything that I had got up to. Right on cue my inner secrets were divulged and the vet gave me some serious side eye which I would have been quite proud of to be honest. The vet looked in my ear with her otoscope (is that not a great word for a beagle vocabulary) and I was told there was an infection which needed to be cleared up. And NO scratching, so the Cone of Shame was to stay in place. Once again I returned home to Lenny smirking at my alleged foolishness.

For the last week I have been captured once a day by my parents who have administered the drops to my ears so I can try to have a life without the Cone. The last two days or so I have been a “Cone free zone” albeit whilst being watched permanently by two humans and my younger brother (who’s not actually my brother but…). Don’t tell anyone however I feel free and I haven’t tried to scratch my ears as they don’t itch anywhere near as much. Whisper it quietly as it is hard to accept that my parents are right and I should listen to them. Maybe! 🤭

A lifetime has passed.

Today I will be giving my dad some special leg leans. I will try to be a good boy and not mess him about too much, for fifty years ago today his older brother took his longest journey over the rainbow bridge. He has since been joined by both sets of my grandparents and far far too many of my friends.

Hug those you love and tell them you love them. Please. ❤️

It’s snowing Lenny, get out of bed.

Yesterday was a dull, dank and dreary day. You know the type of day one where you regret getting out of bed let alone looking through the window to see the grey leaden skies which surrounded us. In any case we went to bed last night leaving the rain falling steadily.

Upon waking up this morning we bimbled downstairs as is our usual ritual, whereby I get some pre breakfast food and Lenny gets tricked into putting his harness on. It always works and he always falls for the ruse. I know I should tell him but, hey, it is fun to see him suffer the indignity of being trussed up against his will. Anyway back to our morning wander. As I stood having a drink I looked up, somewhat bleary eyed, expecting to see the garden wet and unappealing. The white stuff on the ground met my eyes and I was happy. It had snowed lightly and this meant that our walk would be fun, all the scents were closer to the surface and I would continue in my quest to try and get Lenny to eat yellow snow. As we made ready to go out on our morning patrol I was pulled to one side and noticed that there appeared to be a dog coat sitting on the drainer in the utility room. I smiled as I envisioned Lenny being placed within the coat and then felt my heart sink as it was put on me. Apparently it is cold outside, I am an older pup, it’s for my own good and I don’t look like a fool in it.

We made our way out of the house, walked slowly down the driveway in case it was slippery and then turned right into the field in from of the house. Lenny and I were quickly at the end of our respective leads, sniffing for treats hidden in the snow and trying to get as much snow on our noses as possible. We explored both sides of the path and then, once through the first gate, expected to continue our walk along the path. However we were gladdened to see that we were directed into the field to the left and alongside the river. Cue more pulling, huffing and puffing, along with associated shenanigans from the pair of us. Around the field, through the children’s playground and then back out into the field. We went through the deeper snow, around the bends of the river and then through the little line of trees back to where we had originally entered the field. It was here that Lenny and I stood quietly next to each other Lenny nose bumped me and we leapt, gazelle like, in opposite directions. We forgot that we are permanently harnessed to our staff so our bid to escape, and have fun, failed at the first hurdle.

We stopped opposite the church which backs onto the river so we could have a breather, and to allow one of our staff to readjust his harnessing equipment.

By this time our paws were getting a little chilly so we decided we would drag our respective staff back to home and, hopefully, extra treats for being so good on our walk.

Duly cleaned and dried off we ran around the house like a couple of possessed fools until we were warned that breakfast was not being provided until we behaved appropriately. This seemed to calm us down, as breakfast was served and we settled in for the day having had a lovely and fun walk this morning.

Now we just need the snow to freeze, become icy and then watch as our staff fall about all over the place on our walk tomorrow. I still haven’t got Lenny to try yellow snow. Hmmm.

Nothing to report?

It’s been a quiet time here in semi-rural Shropshire. The sun has been hidden behind clouds thanks to anti cyclonic weather blanketing the nations for the last weeks. As a result our noses haven’t been down as much and we have had to make do with dull and boring strolls.

I must however report that I have been escorted to the vet due to my inability to refrain from scratching my ears, making them raw in the process and thus additionally itchy. I have been bound up by the Cone of Shame for over a week in an effort to try and stop my incessant scratching. The vet was good and I was examined, prodded and poked as normal. There weren’t as many personal details expressed this time although I was described as “wriggly” if and when I am being examined or, worse still, being jabbed. On this occasion I got both these crimes against beagling.

I look like an extra from a costume drama.

Lenny and I survived the aural horror of Fireworks Night, or Bonfire Night, or Guy Fawkes Night which in the UK has become an excuse for letting off rockets and bangers so loud that us furs as well as many humans fear for our lives. I have wondered (read complained) aloud about the sale and use of these infernal objects for quite some time and I continue to be puzzled. Celebrating the grisly death of a man famous for trying to enact a heinous crime some 419 years ago? The method of punishment and torture was awful, truly grim. Anyway I will continue to advocate for the ban of fireworks to the public for however long I remain alive.

It’s become chillier over the last few days. The clouds have broken and the nights to become cooler. We have taken advantage of the clearer mornings on our separate walks to enjoy the sights and scents that the local area has to offer. We walk separately as we are beagles and tend to try and reach the same scent at the same time, with the result that arms and shoulders are regularly almost disjointed. We tend to be calmer when Lenny and I are apart. We did take a walk across to Cheney Longville over the weekend together though and we were amazed by an older chaps garden, sporting the largest cauliflowers we have ever seen (we are easily impressed). Beyond that we have walked separately and enjoyed our trips with the respective immovable object attached to us, spoiling our intended fun of chasing rabbits, squirrels and anything else that moves.

The days are becoming shorter and the scents are sticking around much more so I think we will be in for a bumper selection of walks and adventures in the coming months. The trees are shedding their leaves and the colours are a wonderful pastiche of brown, yellow and green.

There is much yet to enjoy this autumn and we intend to make the most of it. Stay tuned.

Carding Mill Valley

This morning, at an hour far too early for Lenny, we were cajoled out of bed and into our harnesses. This usually meant there was a little trip on the cards and today proved no different. A quick patrol around the garden and we were loaded into our travel crates. Along the lane, turn right, right again, follow the road, left, right, left and then park in a steep sided valley.

Before the boot was opened we were chatting to another dog who happened to wander past with her owner. As we were trussed up and then unloaded from our crates we looked around at the beautiful colours of the hills, with the leaves on the small trees changing to a light brown and the bracken becoming browned as autumn encroached. We strolled along the road and passed a lady whose daughter had two beagles both of whom had sadly made their longest journey quite recently. We greeted the lady in true beagle fashion and were rewarded with a big smile. As we followed the road along the base of the valley, we looked up now and again to see the lovely colours of the hills stretching away into the distance.

Scents filled our noses, and wondrous sights filled our eyes. The path grew a little steeper and the tarmac gave way to gravel. I was allowed to splosh through the little brook running alongside the path so I could quench my thirst. An allegation was directed toward me that all the pulling, huffing, puffing and shouting was making me more thirsty. We turned left and strolled along a smaller stony path which led through some streams and then to stone steps. As we ascended the steps we were told to behave and not pull. This instruction was, of course, unheeded. As we got to the top of the steps there was a small reservoir in a bowl in the contours of the hill. We weren’t allowed to go for a dip sadly although Lenny seems to be allergic to puddles and water generally.

At this point there was another smaller gravel path which ran along the side of the hill but it wasn’t deemed suitable for an older beagle who has little or no idea of what “being careful” means. I think it was aimed at me but! We turned around and descended along the original path. We scented each leaf and frond, Lenny found something disgusting to eat and then we wandered along the lane back to the car.

Back at home we were released to run around the garden but we both stood and waited for the door to be opened. A beagle never forgets that a breakfast has been missed. Having eaten we went off for snoozes.

It wasn’t a long walk but we had fun, scented everything, pulled on our leads and let many people know we were in Carding Mill Valley. We are slowly finding more places to go and each time they fill us with wonder and happiness. We will return to CMV, very probably for a longer stroll.

Then it rained.

Another update later than I would like. Early last week the area where we live was warned that there was prolonged rain on its way. This isn’t particularly unusual and the locals will tell you this is the reason it’s so green and fresh around these parts.

In any case we went out in the rain for our early morning walk on Wednesday. It had started raining on Tuesday night so we knew we were going to get a little damp on our stroll around town. Returning home, Lenny and I were duly towelled down and we took breakfast in the utility room. After this we retired to our favourite lazing around beds and awaited the break in the weather so we could be ushered outside for our calls of nature. Hours passed and the break was nowhere to be seen. We went out quickly in any case and were duly towelled down again upon our return. The rain continued. Each time we looked out of the windows we could see that the river flowing through the meadow to the front of our house was rising. This didn’t cause us too much concern as we know there is flood plain surrounding the river and this would keep us safe from the water of the rising river.

Luckily the sheep had been moved.

Then the river broke its banks and started to flood the field, gradually moving across toward the house. The sheep who were grazing the field in the morning had been moved to another field, higher up and out of harms way.

The giant duck pond.

Then we had a break in the rain and went out into the garden to have a quick break. The water from the fields behind the house were washing the contents of the clouds down toward the house, through the retaining wall, onto the patio and into the central heating plant room of our house. Lenny and I were duly placed back inside whilst drains were opened and baling out of the plant room was taken care of. With the help of one of our friends, we managed to drain the water and it then started raining again. And boy did it rain, for a few hours constantly, all the while filling up the patio and re-flooding the plant room. The drain holes were barely coping so storm drains were opened to try and remove as much as the water as possible. The retaining wall became a water feature, a garden fountain spouting the rainy contents of the field onto the patio. It was of course a water feature that wasn’t wanted or needed. We could hear the water rushing over the front of our garden and into the small lane leading toward the river. Then, around 10 pm, it stopped raining. There was silence apart from the continuing streams of rain water rushing off the fields and onto the patio.

Thursday morning arrived and we feared the worst. Venturing outside the inspect the likely destruction we were greeted with weak sunshine and the plant room moist but not flooded. The flooding from the river had covered the field and turned it into a giant duck pond. The lane was passable so it was decided to have a road walk. We strolled across the bridge toward the town and the river had flooded the entire field, small picnic carpark and almost into surrounding streets.

Underwater picnic tables.

Our walk was shortened as we heard that the local nature reserve had also suffered significant flooding. For the rest of the day we walked around the garden and thanked our lucky stars that we live a little way above the flood plain that caught all of the water.

We won’t get flooded from the river but we are taking steps to try and make sure we don’t get flooded from the fields.

A salutary tale. Stay safe everyone

Is that Ludlow I spy?

It started as a normal walk in the morning last Thursday. We had no idea what was ahead for us. Out of bed and we were dressed ready for the day ahead. Lenny looked at me, I looked at him and we wandered around the house watching the pesky rabbits cavorting in our garden, just out of our reach through the doors. Once we were allowed into the garden the rabbits had disappeared, along with the possibility of us having some fun chasing them around. Out the gate and we were loaded into the car? What was this sorcery? Along the lane, turn right, then left and follow the road until we make a sharp right and left and we are parked. As soon as the boot is opened we sing the song of the breed whilst impatiently waiting to be released for the inevitable shenanigans to commence.

As we leapt from the car we were both warned to behave ourselves and off we trotted along the estate road toward Ludlow. We’ve walked this route before so we knew roughly what to expect along the way. We were not disappointed.

Rounding the first bend there were cows to the right and squirrels running across the road ahead of us. I watched in disbelief as Lenny stood and stared, silently, at the squirrel which wandered across his path, no more than 10 metres away. No pulling, no shouting and no wild eyed intent to dentally lobotomise it. Just watched it trot across his path! As we strolled on, the road rose and fell through the contours of the wood. Through the gate and toward the piggery which is always a good source of snacks for prying noses and beagle teeth. Sadly our parents were wise to our intentions and our leads were shortened significantly. I went splashing through puddles and then looked in horror once more as Lenny avoided walking through the puddles. I was in shock. On we went, past the potato fields and around the corners to see Ludlow Castle and St Laurence church loom into view. We crossed the bridge at Dinham, in the shadow of the castle, and then wandered down to the river so I could have a drink. Apparently all the puffing, pulling and singing since we had left the car made me thirsty. Then we went up the hill into the town which was a bonus. The market had just started, people were arriving for work and the town was getting ready for a new day.

We peeked down little alleys, wandered along medieval lanes, strolled past old shops and churches and then down along a broad street which was, aptly enough, called Broad Street.

Through the old gate we headed back down to the River Teme at Ludford Bridge. We (Lenny and I) were getting hungry as we realised we had missed our breakfast to come on this jaunt so we turned the parents around and strolled them back up through the old gate. At this point we were turned left and we explored some narrow winding lanes which we hoped would lead us back to the first bridge at Dinham and thereafter back to the car. Having navigated past some lovely houses and courtyard properties we found ourselves descending toward the bridge and back along the road. As we strolled along it was clear that we were getting more tired as our pulling and general lead shenanigans had decreased. Apparently this was good news for our parents shoulders. As we wandered back through the piggery the leads were shortened, puddles were again avoided by a certain brother and we found ourselves soon back at the car for the return journey.

We had to make a quick pit stop at the local produce farm food shop as the food is delicious.

Once home we ensured that our missing breakfast was adequately fulfilled and then we snoozed off the 10km walk that we had just performed. Ludlow is a nice place with plenty of history and places to explore. We will go again I am certain, maybe to explore some other parts of it. For the time being I will rest easy knowing I have explored some of it. I must admit though, I am rather worried about Lenny and his apparent lack of Beagle-ness.

Mists and mellow fruitfulness

Ok, Ok I may have borrowed the title from someone more famous.

It’s got chillier recently. As a beagle of an advancing age I can feel the chill more in my bones now. This doesn’t mean I don’t run around the garden in the rain and wind like a hound possessed, all the while singing the song of the breed so the locals all know I am out and about.

Lenny went for a walk earlier this week and saw the mists sitting across the field which fronts our house. We live behind the trees in the picture.

Then it rained. And rained. And rained. Just for one day and one night. The river rose around 2 metres and the field turned into a giant swimming pool for the ducks and geese, the sheep had to graze on the higher grounds and our walks were taken in slightly different directions.

It has receded now, to be replaced by some excellent muddy soggy patches where we can go splashing through, all the while give ourselves dirty bellies. Returning home to be towelled and dried, provided with food and being forced to sleep on/in our comfy warm beds makes us feel very fortunate to have a safe home.

This will be the norm for the next few months whilst winter spreads her icy fingers across our lives and pushes us to snooze more often in front of the log burner. I may be feeling the chill, but it won’t stop me going out and exploring. There is so much to see and appreciate where we live and to see the seasons give us new palettes of colour every day.