We decided we would be out and about early this morning. Lenny and I were quickly on our toes into the garden for a pre-walk snooter around the grounds. I had already checked the garden at 03.30 with dad, although he wasn’t best pleased to be out in the freezing cold. We managed to snaffle our first breakfast and then got harnessed to a human for our morning patrol.
Out of the house we turned right and went up the hill which meant only one thing. We were going to the woods and were about to enjoy its contents of sniffs, creatures and gooey sticky muddy paths. Lenny and I marched on with silly grins on our faces at the thought of what we could get up to. As we walked up the road, the traffic fumes filled our lungs but we knew we would soon be away from the cars and vans for the majority of the walk.
Across the road and over the fallen trees, we found ourselves in the woods. Suddenly Lenny hit a trail and started baying. I found a separate trail and followed suit with the noisy alarm likely scaring off all creatures within a mile radius. When we get on muddy paths our parents have to be careful as we tend to pull this way and that. Its not our fault we have four paw drive and they’re only rear wheel drive. We got through the first section of the woods which had an eerie foggy atmosphere to them and made our baying sound even louder as it resonated through the trees.
Into the open pasture we were still on our trails and we pulled the parents off the paths and through the longer grass. Sadly they both had wellies so we didn’t have the joy of listening to them grumbling about wet feet. Into the next field and the gloom hung like a blanket over the view. We decided to turn right and head towards the mile field where we hoped the fallen tree was still lying in situ. If it was there we knew we would have to walk across the claggy mud which is extra slippery for our parents and usually makes for some fruity language as they try to stay upright whilst negotiating the furrows of the ploughed field. We reached a gap in the hedge and looked back to where we live. We both stood there, aghast and agog, as Chesham wasn’t there. It had disappeared, indeed it had vanished having been swallowed by the gloom of the morning fog. Lenny wondered where it had gone. It’s a bit difficult trying to explain meteorology to a two year old pup, so I didn’t bother. Instead I just told him that aliens had eaten the town. We saw that the fallen tree was no longer there so we trudged around the mile field and back to the top of the hill. Still Chesham wasn’t there and when I looked at Lenny I could see he was a bit worried about the aliens having consumed his home. Again I couldn’t be bothered to let him in on the real reason just yet. It’s good to see him worry about nothing sometimes.
We descended past the copse and then back onto the track leading through the field toward the houses which began to emerge from the gloom. As it dawned on him that I may have been spinning him a yarn for some time on our walk, he wanted to bite me to show his appreciation. However mum was a bit quick with the lead and he was left biting thin foggy air instead of my neck. We managed to get back home just before the fog lifted properly so the town still hadn’t emerged from the misty gloom.
I might have to use that line about aliens again, it was fun watching Lenny try to work out if I was pulling his tail.