Enjoying life in my forever home. Sharing my contentment with whoever will read my tales. I used to live in West Sussex, but I have now moved to Shropshire, UK.
It’s been over five years since Lenny as an eight month old pup was dropped into my safe and secure little world. He arrived like a whirlwind, which then blew itself out after a couple of hours chasing each other around the garden. He proceeded to make himself very comfortable in his new life. He’s been involved in two house moves, holidays away to Cornwall and the Lake District as well as numerous weekends and day trips to see places and meet new friends.
Throughout the time he has been here, we have bonded and now we are like brothers. Sometimes we fight and squabble, with a subsequent telling off given to us (usually me 🙄). More often though we will just get along and play nicely, stroll around the garden or pull our respective parent around the garden, field or country lane.
When he first arrived I wondered what was happening to me. Now I see that he’s the best thing that happened to me, aside from me being adopted in 2013.
Happy sixth birthday Lenny, I hope you have fun and enjoy your day running around being silly. I might even let you win at bitey face.
As we awoke yesterday Lenny and I had little idea of what was being planned for us. All seemed normal as we were released into the garden for some serious pigeon and rabbit bothering, accompanied with the song of the breed wafting on the slight breeze across the fields. When we were hastily harnessed we thought nothing was awry but we stopped at the car on the way out of the garden. Adventures! 😀
Duly loaded into our prison cells we went along the lane, right, left, right, under the bridge and then followed the road. Around thirty minutes later we pulled up to a parking spot under the shade of a tree and were safely discharged to begin our shenanigans. Away from the car we went over a wooden footbridge which Lenny took carefully as he could see the river flowing beneath his paws. Along the path, up the slope, circle right, left and then crest the first hillock and there is was, the ruins of Clun Castle sitting atop the hill. Lenny scented a rabbit in the long grass whilst I was off toward the ruins for an explore. My exuberance was short lived however as I was stopped so we could read the sign that told us some history about the location. 🙄
We pressed on to the great tower and looked out over the countryside which was into Wales into a westerly direction.
Charge!That’s Wales over thereBit draughty
The town lay below us so Lenny and I were anxious to stroll around the town. Our assistants had other ideas and we forgot momentarily that we were still attached to them so we had to “behave” ourselves on the downward slopes and paths. Left past the bowling green, right up the lane, right again at the end of the road and right again along the high street. Then it was into the Square, left down the hill into the river Clun for a drink.
Plotting shenanigans? Us?
Then we retraced our steps slightly as we realised we hadn’t walked too far and there was more to explore.
Bit early for a swift half Lenny
We were enjoying this. Strolling past small shops selling some lovely things, we wandered right up along another footpath and then wondered why there were so many people all in the playing field. There was a running race taking place which looked like it could be fun, however we were told in no uncertain terms that Lenny and I were not doing any running. So we decided to try and pull as much as possible to as many scents as possible along the lane, which led down to a ford in the river where I waded in to get a drink and Lenny stood on the fringes as he’s not really a water hound. Once our thirsts were quenched it was up the hill toward St Georges Church. Some parts of the church date back to the 12th century but much of it was rebuilt in the 1800’s. We saw a sign that said there were Commonwealth War Graves within the churchyard so we paid our respects to the fallen by being really quiet whilst our parents read the roll of honour on the plaque. Then we were off down the hill and back toward the car. Thankfully it was parked under a tree so it wasn’t too warm. Lenny fair leapt into the boot, albeit into my travel crate but I didn’t mind. It is good to see him getting more at ease with travelling in the car.
Back home and our breakfasts were taken, after which, it was time for a snooze and then watch as the parents tried to make our garden into something less of a scrub patch.
And before anyone says anything I did not mess about, eat garden stuff, try to wind up Lenny or wander around bored looking for trouble. All in all a fun walk with plenty of scents and sights. I think I might go back. After all we were nearly in Wales. Only a few more miles and we can say we’ve crossed the border.
Until I blogged yesterday I hadn’t realised what we had done between our adventures on the train to Ludlow in late March and our sojourn to Wart Hill last Sunday. Here is a precis of our shenanigans, sorry I meant to say our adventures. 😀
Firstly Lenny discovered Sallow Coppice, a small wood close by Stokesay Wood. He said it was so quiet and pretty that he needed to explore every leaf, twig and fallen branch. Our dad however had different ideas.
We welcomed another beagle parent to our house, this time one from Houston Texas who was visiting the UK. We got chew toys which we played with quite nicely.
The field in front of our house dried out significantly and I could stroll down by the river, taking in all the sights and scents that accompany a meadow.
Sometimes Lenny and I are walked separately as avid readers will remember. We tend to drag our respective parent around after the same scent so they think its calming for us to walk separately to discover new things. In this regard Lenny found the back road to the next little hamlet of Lower Dinchope which he eagerly explored.
In the meantime I was discovering Stokesay Castle and all its interesting features. We swapped stories and then adventures at a later date.
In early May we accepted the offer of a guided tour from our good friend Griff to go and explore the bluebells at Hope Bowlder. Griff is a rescue like Lenny and me, so we always try to look out for his wisdom.
Lenny and I then swapped routes and he discovered Stokesay Castle, whilst I strolled up to Dinchope to see what all the fuss was about.
The route toward a place called Sibdon Cawood was next to be crossed off our list of places to explore. This walk involved traversing fields of wheat or barley as well as strolls down very quiet lanes. I must admit that there is a welcome dearth of traffic here.
At the end of May we had a visitor from Yorkshire, another beagle called Hector. We couldn’t play as he had a poorly paw and I was very overexcitable so we were banned from exploring the garden without supervision. Actually we were banned from the garden, full stop.
Then we took on the challenge of a 10 km circuit around Wart Hill via Cheney Longville which is a village named in the Domesday Book. Our exertions caused us to feel rather tired for a few days after our walk, which cheered our parents up for some reason. 🙄
Lenny decided to take dad to a place called Flounders Folly as a precursor to all four of us making the trip some weeks later.
The road past Stokesay Castle and the path through the lower part of the wood was the next assault on Lenny’s visual and nasal senses, with him doing the precursory legwork for a future visit.
In early July we made sure that everyone who went to vote was behaving themselves.
This was followed by our combined trip to Flounders Folly for a lovely view over the surrounding countryside.
Finally we welcomed another beagle visitor to our area. River was visiting Griff and we were so happy to show her around the meadow.
(L-R) Dex, Lenny, Griff (rear) & River
In between all these excursions we have been making sure that the fields and side roads, especially those leading to the Discovery Centre have been regularly pounded.
Phew, I never knew we packed so much into our first 4.5 months. I think I need to go and lie down.
Some may have noticed that I haven’t been prolific on here since our move to the countryside back in March. Some may have not. We’ve just been very busy exploring and making sure that the house is getting toward what we want it to be like. Then of course that stuffy work thing rears its ugly head for our assistants.
In any case we have been exploring and the miles under our paws seem to be increasing. We are starting to go to different places and expand our horizons, both metaphorically and physical (I suspect they weren’t words you thought you’d hear from a beagle). Last weekend was no exception when Lenny and I were bundled into the car and we set off along the narrow lanes to, well, who knew where. In this case our parents knew but didn’t bother telling us beagles in our travel crates.
Once parked the boot was opened and the vista was far ranging.
Thats Wales over there.
Unloaded from our comfy travel beds we proceeded into the field via the kissing gate and set our sights up hill along the path.
Lenny looking to go to the cow field
Within 50 paces we were swiftly halted as there was livestock in the field we were supposed to be crossing and let’s just say that livestock and me don’t mix. Chalk and cheese, oil and water etc. Not wanting to recreate any battle we were abruptly turned round and marched down the hill, across the narrow lane and through another gate toward a wooded hill. Now we’re talking! Lenny looked at me, I reciprocated and off we charged, baying and shouting until we reached the extent of our leads and realised we were attached to a parent. They always spoil our intended off lead shenanigans. Through the path close to the bracken, up the hill, turn right and left, back track to a viewpoint and then down the path.
The Long Mynd (one day we will get there)
Turn right then left, traverse the boggy patches on the path, avoid the bracken with its resident ticks (revolting things) and then out into the day light with a small pond nearby. Around the pond, up the hill and then to the road where we turned left and followed the curve of the road back to where the car was parked. We had walked this road before and typically our parents had not taken any pictures. When we got back to the car we were unceremoniously returned to our prison cells for the journey home.
We are trapped. Look at our forlorn faces.
Arriving home we assumed the customary position of snoozing whilst the day went on around us giving us time to dream of our next adventure as well as think about blogging more often.
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.
Dexter 