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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Wow, where do I start? Somewhat later than I would have liked I can put paw to paper and tell you about one of the biggest adventures Lenny and I have ever had.
This particular Saturday dawned the same as pretty much every Saturday morning recently. One thing was different though. We were awake early, and I had seen some travel bags and dog items being put into the car the previous night. Ok, thats two things but beagles only ever count treats. Along the lane we walked so we could get some scents and do what we had to do. After a while we turned around and wandered back towards home. We were fed whilst the rest of the holiday items were put into the car. Then it was our turn as we were loaded into our travel crates and off we went.
Time seemed to pass really slowly at first as we wound our way around the lanes and minor roads toward the road that would take us, who knew where? Time to stop and stretch our paws and then off on our merry way once more. Two more stops including one when I reminded the parents that it was biscuit o’clock, and we found ourselves winding our way down a narrow country lane. As the boot was opened the smell of sea air filled our noses. Where were we, this wasn’t the normal beach we frequent and we are allowed to eat dead washed up sea creatures. We strolled down a slope toward a strange house, with a strange outlook toward a strange beach. Ensconced behind a door we watched as the contents of the car were unloaded among much grumbling about most of the “stuff being for Dex & Lenny”. Everyone was a bit fatigued by the time we had arrived and decided to adjourn to the pub to “see what it is like”. We were somewhere called Sennen Cove, in the far west of Cornwall. No wonder it took so long to get here.
As we awoke on our first full day, I poked my nose around the curtains to find the same scenery as yesterday when we arrived. We went for a short walk so we could get some scents and explore a bit. Back to the house and it was decided that we should go for a stroll around the coastal path to the next beach which was dog friendly and sounded exotic. It is called Gwynver and off we went. More avid readers will recall that I tend to pull and mess about on lead when I get excited for new scents and new places. The walk around the coastal path lived up to expectations with steep paths, steep drops and the associated huffing and puffing from an exasperated parent. We got to the top of the cliff at Gwynver and looked down to the beach. When I say looked down I mean down. The path was steep and rocky which prompted more worry and concern at the level of my impatience to walk quickly. With the path down navigated very slowly and carefully we strolled across the beach and rocks all the while ensuring that everyone who was there knew Lenny and I had arrived.
We made sure we saw all there was to see and then walked onwards towards another path and home. We’d been out for ages and the parents were feeling a bit tired. Dad went off to get supplies at the local shop and after a rest at the house, we went to the pub for the evening to “check it out again”.
Lenny checking out the Old SuccessThis place looks good to me.
This sea air was making me tired. I saw the Lenny was starting to sleep in longer too, although he sleeps like a log anyway. In any case as we awoke on the second full day on holiday, we took the now familiar stroll around the local area so we could smell rabbits and try to pull our respective parents into the nettles and brambles lining the path. Breakfast was taken and it was time to go out. Lenny and I were told that there would be lots of travelling today so we had to be good. Red rag to a bull comes to mind. Along the road past Lands End we turned right, left, right and left, went down hill and uphill until we arrived at a place called Minack. We were warned again that we HAD to behave here. We duly greeted the ladies on the entry booth of the Minack Theatre in our customary beagle manner. Minack Theatre is a wonderful place. It’s a theatre perched on the edge of the cliff on the southern part of Cornwall. The backdrop is the Atlantic Ocean.
Lenny and I were in awe until we realised we were still in Cornwall. The seats and steps were very steep which caused more consternation as to my alleged penchant for pulling on the lead.
We strolled down the steps, took to the stage, gave a performance worthy of an Oscar, made people smile at my antics and then strolled back up the steps again. It was lovely and we really enjoyed it all. Back in the car we wondered where we would go next. All the lanes seem really narrow and we were driving carefully around corners under we reached a place called Mousehole. Now, I don’t think its called Mousehole as many people called it Mowsull. Also we didn’t see any mice and there weren’t any holes.
It’s a very pretty small fishing village to the west of Newlyn and it is very touristy. We weren’t allowed on the beach so we enjoyed ourselves walking around more little narrow lanes. Duly loaded back into the car we set off for our last destination of the day, Penzance, so dad could post a card, take a picture of a pub and we could get a longer walk along the promenade. We walked along said promenade and made our presence known to the people at the little coffee shop doing a good trade in the early summer sun.
St Michaels MountWar memorial
Having then walked and pulled our way around the lanes and seen St Michaels Mount, we returned to the car for the journey back to the holiday house. Just for a change we went to a different pub in the evening, again to “check it out”. Lenny and I just slept.
We awoke to the sound of dad making a cup of tea for mum, who was poring over a map to locate the next stop on our adventure. After we had lifted our weary bodies out of bed, and mum and dad had walked us around the local area, we got into our travel crates for the shenanigans ahead. Usually Lenny is a bit wary of the travel crate but he realised that fun was on the cards and positively leapt in and made himself comfy. We made our way to Perranporth on the north coast of Cornwall. Mum had seen some pictures of her parents here many years ago and had wondered what it was like now. Well, she was finding out exactly what it was like. Warm and sunny with a dog friendly beach.
We wandered and strolled about the town and even managed a visit to the nice sandy beach.
Saying goodbye to the beach, it was back into the car and off to somewhere shrouded in myth and legend. We drove down more winding country lanes and were duly deposited at a place called Tintagel. Lenny and I knew this is where King Arthur lived and we hoped we would be able to explore his castle. We were not disappointed as we walked across bridges, saw dilapidated castles, steep cliff and the water crashing on the rocks below. This was great fun as we explored, climbed onto lofty perches, nosed about amongst rocky outcrops and had our picture taken far too many times.
Then, for the last time on the day, we leapt into our travel crates whilst we were driven back to our holiday house. We managed to drag ourselves to the pub to “make sure it was still alright” although we really just slept and dreamed about our adventures.
In fact I am so tired now, I will finish my stories of adventures soon.
Five years ago today I was hauled unceremoniously out of my bed at some unearthly hour of the morning to be brusquely advised “Come on, we need to do a good early walk as we are off on an adventure”.
The Buckinghamshire hills
Off we went on our merry way, along the hedgerow so I could scent the critters who had spent their evening tucked away safely. We returned home far too early for my liking and I was loaded into the car and warned to “Be good”. Soon upon the first motorway we were whizzing along. We then arrived on the second motorway and seemed to be travelling for ages when we left for the normal roads and I was told to shush as they had to concentrate on where we were going. Around the lanes, across the cross roads, turning left, right then left and the car stopped. As the boot was opened the glorious sound of over a thousand beagles met my ear drums and I couldn’t help but sing the song of the breed.
We had arrived at the Beagle World Record event in Macclesfield near Manchester and my parents had kept it secret from me and, it appears from a large number of my friends. We saw our buddies straight away and again I had to greet them all in typical beagle fashion.
RaffaCharley
Then the main event arrived. We knew we had to walk around a course of about a mile to try and break the largest dog walk by a single breed. All the humans had to wear a little tracking device which showed that they had walked us around the course. We didnt know how many beagles were there, but we knew there were plenty. We knew we were up against formidable opponents as it had been Yorkshire Terriers somewhere in Mexico that currently held the record at 783 (thats a lot of Yorkies!). Anyway off we trotted around the course, through the wood, alongside the lake, through the other wood and thence back to the finish line. As we crossed the line the humans made sure their trackers were registering and then we were allowed to have fun and play. I got a certificate to say I had taken part and in lieu of us beating the record it was filled in with my name. We knew we had to wait for a while until all the beagles had been counted and the numbers verified. We wouldn’t know that day so we strolled about some more and then made our weary way back down the motorways and home.
World Record holder
A few months passed until it happened. We all got notified that we had done it. I was one of 1,029 beagles that had walked around the course. I am a world record holder. That sounds quite good to me. And I had fun too, with loads of my buddies, so thats even better.
Off to the vet I went yesterday. My leg isn’t getting any better and the current trial of pills to try and alleviate my ailments isn’t working. After the ignominy of being starved from 10 pm the night before I was taken to the local vet orthopaedic centre so I could be examined, prodded and poked. All the while I would be away with the fairies, sleeping and dreaming of squirrels to chase. The vet said that my stifle (knee) looked very swollen and I was in pain. He looked at the X-Rays and told us that there was a problem which needed fixing.
The outcome is that I am going to have an operation to repair my right cruciate. The operation is a Tibial-plateau-leveling osteotomy (TPLO) and involves the vet opening up my leg, doing some alterations to my bone and ligaments and then sewing me back up again. Apparently I won’t feel a thing until I come round and then hopefully come home the following day. Then its rest, more rest and then some rest to make sure I have rested enough. Also I will get some physio and maybe hydrotherapy to assist in my recovery. There are tails (see what I did there!) that the operation is fairly quick and successful so I am confident that I will be back up and running quite quickly after I have been diced and sliced.
It’s not quite the present we wanted this year but I will hopefully be in a better place early next year once the operation and recovery are complete. I will let you all know how I get on. I might even let Lenny take over my blogging whilst I am recuperating.
In the meantime I think there might be some turkey which I need my begging eyes for.
On 19th December 2013 I was safe. I had been adopted and found a good home which was warm, dry and had two people who were prepared to do their utmost to give me a good life. Essentially everything that I needed. I had no idea what Christmas meant and looked quizzically at the green tree covered with lights, in the corner of the room but I knew I was safe.
Now I have been here for nine years and I have gained a brother, been on so many adventures and got too many friends to mention. I now realise that it is Christmas and every other celebration every day.
It’s my Gotcha Day which, for a rescue, is the most important day in our life.
I may have suffered some fur fade, and one of my legs may not be playing nicely at the moment, but I am safe and loved. That is the most important thing.
Dexter 