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.
Well here I am once more seeking to justify my lack of blog entries over the last few weeks. I cannot excuse myself from my inability to blog more often, I am merely becoming older and those things that took a short time a while back now seem to be taking longer. You know the sort of thing, going upstairs, eating breakfast, climbing into one of my eleven beds (I have to share some of them with Lenny!) and bimbling around the garden amongst others.
In any case there hasn’t been a great deal happening apart from meeting up with Smudgey & Ted and their parents of course for a stroll around Stanmer park before they went off for a life affirming sojourn to European pastures. I did manage to pull like a freight train around Stanmer Park dragging mum behind me. I am not sure whether the muttering was directed at me or if it was complimentary. I was too busy pulling, snorting and trying to breath in every scent and sight as well as letting everyone else know I was there.
That’s me on the left, being quiet
Back home for a few weeks it seems that Lenny and I have to be subjected to something called “watching the parents work and being quiet”. We can adequately achieve one of those goals but doing both at the same time is often beyond our capacity. It appears that this “work” they do allows us to be kept in the comfort we deserve and require so we aren’t allowed to complain too loudly.
I was in the garden last week for a pre bed time wander with Lenny. We are allowed out so we can do what we need to do and then we are forced to laze about in our beds (he has a cave bed befitting a vampiric being) all night. I have the unfortunate trait of getting acid reflux so I need to eat small amounts regularly through the day and night so constant sleep for everyone is a little unusual to be honest. When I wake up I tend to wake up Lenny and then we work our canine magic on mum who dishes out the treats. This can happen 3-4 times a night so we’ve got used to seeing the parents wake up and stagger around looking like zombies from a B-Movie in the morning. Anyway back to the garden and pre bed strolling. Dad accompanies us outside on these occasions and he was watching me to make sure I “behave”. He shone the torch toward me, I looked up at him and he felt very sad to see that my eyes had greyed over, and my coat glistened all white in the torch light. I wandered back and got some tickles but I could feel the sadness in his fingers as he stroked my ears. The realisation had hit him that I am an old fella now. As I lolloped (look it up) upstairs to bed I could hear him sighing behind me.
The magician and his apprentice
This picture was taken when we were allegedly plotting chicanery and shenanigans. Mum saw it and felt so sad because she said I look so old. I’m thirteen and a half apparently, I am a bit shaky when I am trying to relax, if I exert myself when walking then my legs start shaking and I have to approach the leap onto the sofa or chair as a leap of faith. I am on some pills to try and stop me aching so much and sometimes they work. I still grumble quite a bit when I am getting belly rubs.
I’m not sure about this growing old malarkey but I will approach it with my usual aplomb and lack of complaint.
Somewhat later than I would have anticipated I must relate a tail of adventures that happened to Lenny and myself recently.
It started like any normal Friday morning back on 8th September. We were rudely awoken and found ourselves harnessed ready for something unexpected. We were whisked away for a short stroll and returned to find the car loaded and ready. Duly cajoled into our travel crates we turned north and we decided to settle down for a while. First stop and we are out, walked fed and watered then loaded back into our comfy crate beds for the next leg. After a few more hours we find ourselves being walked around a noisy motorway service area for a leg stretch and then reloaded. We seem to be getting used to this. The traffic increased, our speed slowed and the exasperation from the driver also got louder. Eventually we left the motorway and I could feel the palpable sense of relief. Another hour or so and we found ourselves at a big gate on the bottom of a driveway leading to a different house. As the boot was opened we smelt the familiar scent of the Lakes. Our parents had hoodwinked us again, we were on holiday in my favourite place.
Muncaster Fell
Time for some shenanigans I thought. Sadly I was swiftly over ruled and we were told to behave whilst the car was emptied. Then it was off around the village to get our bearings and have a jolly good sniff about, followed by a trip to the pub to “see what its like”.
Saturday dawned and we wondered if the view was the same as when we arrived. Thankfully it was the same so we decided to wander round the village, scent all the local critters and get to know Oscar the black Labrador who lived in the house opposite. I remembered him and we renewed acquaintances. Then we strolled about some more, returned to the house to allow our breakfast to be made and then took off on a woodland walk to scent more local wildlife. Lenny was loving all the new places to explore and we set a fair pace. I’m not so sure, however, that the parents enjoyed seeing all the ticks that seemed to be attaching themselves to my fur as we strolled along. I was being examined and then having the little blood suckers removed far too regularly. We took it easy for the remainder of the day as it was still humid and we didn’t want to overdo it. In the early evening we ended up back at the pub, on the pretence that the beer needed to be checked for quality. It passed muster apparently.
Ssshh, if we pretend to be asleep, we might get treats.
Sunday was Irton Pike day. There are a number of hills in the Lake District that are known as Wainwrights. Iron Pike is one of them I think. People like to try and climb all 214 of them. Lenny had never been on one of them, so we treated him. We set off for the short car journey to the bottom of the hill. Having decamped from the car we set off at some pace up the stony track and through the edge of the woods. Apparently I sound like a puffing billy steam train when I pull on the lead. It makes them wince as I don’t seem to remember I am 13 and had a serious operation some 9 months earlier. In any case we pulled our way through the gate, over the stile and along the narrow path through the woods, to the summit of Irton Pike.
Irton Pike, Lenny had conquered a Wainwright
As we came out from the woods we were greeted by the sight of another beagle called Monty who had conquered the peak. We conversed with one another in the usual beagle manner and then saw the rain coming in from the coast, so thought it wise to descend as we didn’t have our waterproof coats with us. Lenny seemed quite pleased with his efforts. Once we had returned home we needed to make sure that there were no intruders so we kept a lookout for everyone who walked past.
Repel all boarders, Lenny.
Our parents decided we would try a different pub that evening, so off we wandered to see if the beer tasted different to the previous night.
As Monday arrived it was decided for us that we would stroll along the river side path to Dalegarth (Boot). It was a fairly flat walk with plenty of scents to keep Lenny and I occupied. To be honest we were already feeling a bit tired after a few days of this more strenuous lifestyle and, if I had been offered another 30 minutes in bed, I would have accepted. Anyway, early morning stroll out of the way, we set off tackle the path alongside the River Esk, leading toward Hardknott Pass. I’d walked it before and its great fun. Through the fields and gates, up through the woods and then down toward the river so we can have a paddle and a drink of the fresh water.
Stump club king
After a while we turned around as I was pulling like a train and there was concern that I would do “myself an injury”. The rest was welcome when we returned to the house, with Lenny and I both grabbing some snoozes in between watching everyone who passed the window. Off to the pub again in the evening to see if the beer quality had changed. Lenny and I just slept on our settle mats. Then we crashed into our beds for some serious sleep back at the house.
When we awoke on Tuesday we had no idea of what we were about to do. Our early morning walk went without a hitch and we had breakfast. Off out once more we skirted along the path at the base of Muncaster Fell, passed the farm and then turned right onto the Esk Trail. Lenny looked at me, I reciprocated and we both got ready to enjoy what lay ahead. We strolled along the path until it veered off up a fairly steep hill which seemed to go on for about two weeks. The path wound its way up, and eventually back down, toward Muncaster Castle. Sadly we weren’t going to the Castle as we found out by strolling past. On to Ravenglass we went and found ourselves dipping our toes in the brackish seawater of the estuary.
Lenny, look out for dead washed up stuff.
We were tired so when we heard that we wouldn’t have to walk back, this was a blessing. Lenny had never been on the La’al Ratty steam train. Its run by the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway and was originally used to bring Iron Ore from the Fells out to Ravenglass for onward carriage to Barrow, and transporting the workers on the return leg into the Fells. Once the trade stopped the railway eventually was used for holiday passengers. So there we were, boarding the little train to travel back to Irton Road and our home for the week. Lenny looked a little concerned getting on board so we tried to reassure him that all was ok.
Don’t worry Lenny it’s alright.
He started to relax a little once he could see the views as we travelled along. Secretly we both were glad to rest our legs after a nearly eight mile walk. Back at the house we rested again until it was time to test out the pub once more.
As Wednesday surfaced the day seemed to be bright but Lenny and I were feeling the effects of our previous days walk. We wandered slowly around on our, now customary, morning sojourn through the village and gratefully consumed our breakfast. Into the car and off we went, with the hills becoming smaller as we drove away from them. We needn’t have worried if the holiday was over, as we quickly found ourselves deposited at the beach at Drigg. A good stroll along the beach was in prospect and, maybe, the chance to eat some rotten dead washed up stuff. We set off at a great pace, as the sandy beach stretched away in front of us. Sadly for us, our parents were aware that a large number of beached jellyfish littered the sand ahead and we were stopped from investigating these creatures, with the excuse that we would get stung and the vet bill would come out of our food and treat allowance. In any case we strolled, aroooed at the seagulls, tried to walk up the sand dunes and tried not to lick the seawater.
A fun time.
Having gone for some miles we turned for home and retraced our paw prints to the car. Lenny fairly leapt into his travel crate, which is generally a sign that he’s enjoying himself. Back to the house for some rest and food, after which we wandered along to the pub to see what was happening. As we turned into the pub car park, a familiar face greeted us. It was auntie J who had come along for a few days and brought Sasha with her. We had not met Sasha before so we spent a short time having a road walk and then into the pub for some rest whilst the parents chattered. As we left, the heavens opened and by the time we got to the house, everything was soaked through.
We awoke on Thursday amid some excitement. The parents had made arrangements to meet up with Sasha and auntie J and we were going to walk along the river path again. Having strolled around the village first thing, we were fed and then told we had to behave ourselves when we are out with Sasha. I looked at Lenny who looked at me. Of course we will! We met up at the train station and strolled along the roads to the bridge where we turned left and started on the trail. We scented everything and then watched in awe as Sasha was released from her lead. We watched with delight as she promptly found some fox poop to roll in. She might be a little cutie, but she’s also a proper beagle and we were very proud of her. As we wandered along Sasha was being gradually cleaned with wet grass and eventually we managed to arrive at Boot where we decamped to the pub for some lunch.
I didn’t mean to roll in it, honestly.
Wandering back to the La’al Ratty train station we boarded the train for the journey back to Irton Road. Lenny was much better on this journey, even sticking his head over the side of the carriage to see where we were going. Arriving at the station, Lenny and Sasha decided to graze on same grass whilst I wriggled and arooed as I was bored and trying to escape.
One of their five a day
The adults said they would meet up later so we went our separate ways for a while. We had a quick walk around the village, saw Oscar and then went back to the house for some snoozes. In the evening we met at the Bowerhouse Inn for some food and general chatter. Sasha took up her now usual spot just inside the pub so she could meet and greet everyone who came in, or left. Lenny and I just slept as we were feeling the effects of our holiday exertions. When the time came to leave there was a solemnity amongst the adults and we were told to say goodbye (nicely) to Sasha. Lenny gave her a nose bump whilst I arooed loudly.
Friday morning broke, the clouds scudded across the sky and we found ourselves being harnessed for an early morning walk around the village with only one parent. As we returned to the house we found the car was full of our gear. We leapt into the travel crates and settled down, as this meant only one thing. The car was pointed south and we left the Lakes behind as we returned home. We had a great time in Eskdale, we explored, scented, sniffed, aroooed and best of all smiled the whole time. We enjoyed very much returning to the Bowerhouse Inn with its great food, excellent dog snacks and good beer. Lenny had climbed a Wainwright so he was proud of that achievement. We had met Sasha who is lovely and very funny when she’s doing naughty things. I hope we get to return one day but, for now, I am still catching up on my sleep.
As the UK seems to be basking in an autumnal heatwave (the thermometer on the shed is currently reading 39C!) I thought I would take you back to the field behind my previous house.
February 2019, Chesham, Buckinghamshire.
Only another few months and it will be Christmas! I know, I will sshh now.
I thought I would let Lenny have some happiness on his birthday. We think it was his birthday yesterday but as a rescue we aren’t wholly certain. Anyway he seemed to enjoy the extra treats, venison chews and excessive belly rubs administered by our parents.
So. I have been quiet on here recently as we have had many things going on and we’ve not been around too much. Weekends appear to have morphed into busy, almost working, days so Lenny and I are feeling a bit sidelined.
On one of our rare moments of relaxation last Saturday I spied the sofa in the distance. It was adorned with my cushions, arranged pretty much how I like them and my little vampiric brother hadn’t yet decided to infest my snoozing place. As I made my way to the edge of the sofa I readied myself for the leap and subsequent flop down into lazing position. I took off, bellied the front of the sofa, bounced backwards and landed in a big heap. All this was much to the horror of my mum who quickly came to my assistance. I was alright but I did notice there weren’t any treats proferred to assuage the anguish I had suffered. I looked at the sofa, looked at Lenny’s cave bed, lost heart a bit at my inability to launch onto the sofa and decided to go and curl up onto of the cave bed. I got up after a while to stroll about and it was noticed that I was walking a little stiffly. I had maybe had bashed myself about somewhat. That evening I stood at the foot of the stairs and looked longingly up. I had lost all my confidence in climbing stairs, I was limping and feeling sorry for myself. Until dad scooped me up and deposited me on the landing so I could have a flat walk to my bed.
I awoke the following day and plodded very slowly downstairs. As I was placed in my harness I heard it muttered that I was going for a walk separately to Lenny so mum and I set off along the lane past the stables whilst Lenny and dad went down the lane and past the church. Anyway long story short I was still stiff and a bit limpy when I returned so it was decided for me that I was going off to the vet on Monday. When the fateful hour arrived I bravely made my way there, dragging mum along for company. She told the vet all of my innermost secrets of which I hadn’t authorised disclosure and then I was examined from top to tail. The diagnosis is that I am a fit and healthy beagle harrier apart from having what looks to be spinal degeneration and possibly some disc misalignment in my spine close to my back legs. Apparently this is quite normal in older dogs (I think they were talking about me?) and the situation needs to be “managed”. So I am being told to calm down more often, I’m not allowed so much bitey face with Lenny and my parents are administering some pills and potions in my dinner that seem to be making me sleepy and very relaxed in the evening. I conjured up the courage to leap upon my side of the sofa and I can plod upstairs slowly now. I have an attendant parent to make sure I am ok when I try to do something strenuous which is of course extremely embarrassing and not doing my rufty tufty image any good whatsoever.
I have to realise that I am an older dog now, I can do most things that younger dogs do, but just a bit slower and more carefully. I’m alright, I just have to slow down and adapt.
Live life like you mean it. Dodge the curve ball when it’s heading for you. And don’t get disheartened as there is usually someone there to pick you up, dust you off and give you a big kiss on the bonce.
And just like that Lenny is five today. He arrived like a well aimed furry missile into my life in 2019, disrupted my routine and ability to cadge treats from pliant parents and made himself firmly at home.
We squabbled and bickered for a week or so and then decided it was more fun to run around the garden like a couple of fools. We’ve been places, done stuff and eaten bad things, all the while getting told off and not listening. But there is only one thing that I can say for certain.
I wouldn’t change it for anything. Happy birthday Lendog.
We were rudely awoken at some unearthly hour. The tree surgeons were outside to trim some trees and clearly we weren’t to be allowed to snooze.
Strangely we only went out on a fairly short walk and found ourselves returned swiftly to our breakfast. Soon after we witnessed the commotion of our parents being busy and getting the car ready for an unexpected jaunt. Into the car and along the road, turn right left and then we found ourselves being divested at somewhere we had never been to before. Welcome to Leonardslee Lakes & Gardens. Lenny and I looked at each other and hoped it would be as good as the day we spent at the Lost Gardens of Heligan a few weeks ago.
As we waited for dad to pay we announced ourselves to everyone in the reception area. Then it was into the gardens themselves. Two hundred and forty acres it said on the sign. What a playground we thought as Lenny and I looked at each other with glee. Along the path and down the hill, left then right, stroll along by one of the seven lakes and then we heard a wonderful phrase uttered.
This way to the Deer Park. Oh this was going to be fun! Wallabies are here too! The potential for shenanigans had doubled in the course of two short sentences. Sadly our parents had pre-empted our ability to want to be silly and the leads were shortened, we were told to walk closer and we had to behave. Lenny and I took no notice of any of this as we entered the Deer Park enclosure. We strolled along sniffing and trying to scent the deer which were clearly one step ahead of us and hiding. We left the Deer Park enclosure having not encountered any deer or wallaby. Not even a squirrel presented itself for our jollity.
Back into the main part of the Leonardslee and we strolled through the Camellias, beneath the Rhododendron and around the Hydrangeas. Wandering back up the hill we then walked left and right, up hill and down hill taking in all the sights and smells. Lenny seemed to be flagging so we stopped for some water and even managed to snag some biscuits. Then we found ourselves back on our paws and into the gardens.
Down the hill and around another of the lakes, we strolled along the East Path and then the West Path. There were a large number of very nice statues which were around the gardens and we looked at them, sometimes with wonder.
Lenny was slowing down again in the warm summer sun so it was decided for us that we would gently stroll back to the car and return home. We had barely left the car park and Lenny had curled up in his bed for the journey home.
Leonardslee Lakes and Gardens are a good place to visit and very dog friendly. There is so much to explore that I think we will be going again to have more fun. We enjoyed it all.
A blog I read recently resonated with me. A lady called Ruth Soaper has a dog called Ruby who is/was a shelter dog. Ruby has seriously come out of her shell over the year she has been living a happy life and she loves life itself. However it appears that Ruby loves tennis balls in particular.
It struck me that it is the same here with my brother (from another mother), young Lendog. He likes little better than having a ball to guard. As long as I don’t try to steal it from him or try to play, he seems content to have his ball, lay on the grass and watch the world go by. All the while he waits for another ball to fly over the fence from the neighbours garden so he can have another one to look after.
It really is as simple as that. Sometimes we don’t need mind bending, sorry training toys, to feel content.
If you want to read about Ruby on the 21 June 2023 blog, the link to the website is hopefully here.
Firstly I need to apologise if anyone has missed me during my absence. There is no single reason for me not being here so won’t try to excuse myself. I will bring you all up to date on things that have happened recently.
It started the same as any other Saturday morning on 10th June. One of the parents went off shopping and we went out for a quick bimble around the local lanes. It was warm, mighty warm and humid. So it was that we lazed around feeling listless whilst trying not to overdo anything.
Knock knock, aroo aroo. There was a commotion in the hallway and I found myself being attached to my harness and lead. Lenny and I were confined to a room whilst the visitors were allowed into my house. This wasn’t in the script for a Saturday. As we were released from our enforced captivity we found ourselves assailed by two fellow beagles who were accompanied by their parents. Smudgey and Ted beagles had arranged to come and visit us. It appears that we weren’t told about the impending visit.
Smudgey and Ted began immediately to investigate my house but I was kept on a lead as I couldn’t be trusted to behave myself correctly. Also I had a major operation earlier in the year and we didn’t want any relapses or injuries. We were allowed out in the garden to sniff and explore but it was so warm that none of us stayed out for too long. Then the parents started talking so we all decided to have a sleep. Suddenly we found ourselves rudely awakened as it was realised that the local paw paddock had been booked and they didn’t want to waste the chance to let us off for a run around. Off we went, under the road bridge, turn right, through the woods and then down the lane. Into view comes the paw paddock and we all anticipated a good run around with various shenanigans thrown into the mixture. The gates were closed behind us, we drank some water near the first gate and then entered the arena to await release.
Off the lead went Smudgey, Ted and Lenny but when I looked up at mum she told me, with her eyes, that I was too precious to be allowed off to be silly. We started to walk around the perimeter and I got to watch my furry brethren stroll about sniffing and exploring. It was mighty warm, and the shelter looked welcoming, as well as the bench in the middle of the paddock to give us all some welcome shade.
After forty minutes or so we strolled back to the pub and managed to snag a table outside so we could relax and listen to the parents chatter.
Back along the high street and we found ourselves at home where I was, finally, allowed off lead to have a good scent in my garden. I managed to stroll about for a while but then started to get too excited and was swiftly re-harnessed.
Smudgey and Ted told us they had to go somewhere else and we said our sad goodbyes. It was great to meet some new friends and have a lovely time showing them around our manor.
I know I have to be careful so I won’t be let off lead too often if we get visitors. All part of growing older I suppose.
During our recent sojourn to the south west of England, Cornwall to be exact, we had to go to Penzance to take a picture of a pub called the Admiral Benbow. My grandad had taken a picture of the pub in the early 1970’s and we wanted to see if it had changed much, if at all. The evidence is here that it has changed little externally.
Admiral Benbow Chapel Street Penzance 1970’s
And this is the same view about three weeks ago.
Admiral Benbow Chapel Street Penzance May 2023
Beyond a spruce up and some additional signage it looks remarkably similar after 50 years or so.
Sometimes things don’t change and this can be good. The pub was apparently a haunt for local smugglers looking to make a pretty penny and avoid the Customs men prowling the beach and alleys looking for ill-gotten gains. I hope the people who go there today enjoy it.
Having navigated our way through the first three days of our adventures in Cornwall, we awoke to the familiar sound of Lenny snoozing in his cave bed. Tea was made, we got our now normal stroll around the local area and we made ready for the shenanigans ahead.
Into the car and off we set. There seemed to be much trepidation from our parents regarding our destination for the day. Through streets and along lanes we travelled until we turned a sharp right just before a small fishing village called Mevagissey. We hardly had time to read the sign before the car stopped and we were harnessed. Welcome to the Lost Gardens of Heligan. I looked at Lenny who looked back at me. We were sure that says Hooligan.
Once we had announced our arrival to one and all, we set off around the gardens which were lovely. Beautiful colours, wonderful shrubs and trees, quite a few other dogs and all the while there were scents everywhere. In some places the paths were quite steep but Lenny and I found our four-paw drive coped adequately. Our parents shoulders and arms did not cope so well with our attempts to investigate as much of the site as possible as quickly as possible.
We were getting a bit tired toward the end of the visit so we actually managed to walk quite nicely around the walled garden whilst smelling all the herbs, vegetables and fruit trees which were in blossom.
When we leapt back into our travel crates something strange happened as both Lenny and I fell asleep very quickly. So this was the plan of the parents. Tire us out like they did in the Lakes last September. And we had fallen for their ruse. We managed to get back to the holiday house for a short rest before returning to the pub for the early evening to “make sure it hadn’t closed”.
We awoke quite early and saw the sun was still shining. In fact the sun had been shining every day we were there, which was a bonus. After our morning constitutional we heard it muttered that “no car today because we are walking to Lands End”. Breakfast was taken and we readied ourselves for the fun times to come. Strolling through the village we went up some steps and then onto the South West Coast Path toward Lands End. The SWCP is actually a 630 mile path that runs from Minehead in North Somerset to Poole Harbour in south Dorset. We were walking a very short section of it which was lucky as, according to our parents, Lenny and I were already very pully. The path was well marked and thankfully dry so we made good progress, even past the wreck of RMS Mulheim which went aground in 2003 on rocks and broke up soon after.
Having made our way to Lands End itself we strolled about, checked out Longships Lighthouse which is about a mile offshore and then strolled about some more.
We decided against having our picture taken under the signpost which tells you how far you are from home, as it used to be free and now costs, according to a parent, too much and is a rip off. Instead we had our picture taken outside the little model pub.
It was decided that we would stroll back and get an ice cream on the way. Lenny and I looked forward to this as we had never had ice cream before. Sadly when we returned to Sennen Cove it became apparent that the ice cream wasn’t for us, only for the parents so we had to make do with some biscuits. The ice cream was apparently very nice however. We wandered reluctantly back up the hill to the holiday house at which time Lenny and I were to be found flaked out on our beds snoozing away for the rest of the late afternoon. Just for a change we went to the pub to make sure the beer was still good.
Our last full day dawned bright and cheerful. We managed to lift our weary bodies out of our beds for a final assault on enjoying ourselves. Having taken our morning bimble we returned, ate breakfast and made ourselves ready. Today we were going to do some culture and history. There is a place called Chysauster, which is near Penzance. It’s an ancient village so is pretty much a ruin now, but still very interesting as we found out. It was originally constructed about 2,000 years ago and was populated by people who were predominantly farmers. The walls of some of the houses remain but thats about it as the roofs were probably made from wood and thatch so degraded many years ago.
It had been undiscovered until the late Victorian era when an archeologist decided to excavate and see what was there. Apparently these types of settlement are only found in Cornwall and the west of England. Even Lenny and I found it interesting and it wasn’t a strenuous finish to our last full day in Cornwall. On our way back to the holiday house we decided to sleep soundly. We were rudely awakened to find ourselves in the middle of a cleaning mission by our parents before, unsurprisingly, we went to the pub “just to finish off the week”.
Cheerio Sennen Cove
We had a great time and can recommend it to people. You’ll need a car though as many places are quite far apart and off the well trodden paths and roads. The sun shone and we enjoyed ourselves. In fact we slept for the following two days after we had returned home, so it must have been fun.
Dexter 