On this day in 2013 I was plucked from the kennel at the rescue centre and driven to my new home. It was my Gotcha Day. I had no idea then what was to happen to me but I know I am safe, loved and cared for.
Even the addition of Lenny to the pack changed little after the initial fun and games and we have grown to be good buddies. I am growing older and as will have been seen from previous posts, I am getting wobblier and susceptible to infections and illnesses. It is all part of life’s rich pageant and I cannot change it. Nor would I want to change it. I will press on regardless with my usual aplomb and lack of complaint.
Twelve years and thirteen Christmases have passed. My life is happy, safe and I am loved. If I could wish only one thing for fellow rescue furs it would be that they have the same security as I have. Oh and more treats of course.
The quiet one will be me. Those who know me, and who have met me, will be aware that I am rarely quiet but that’s another story.
So, I have been quiet on here as well as on other unnamed platforms, for a while now. With the help of my assistants we have been dealing with a few symptoms of old age creeping up on me and I have been neglecting my duties on here. Also I am not yet ready to hand over the editorial reins to my young vampiric assistant Lenny.
Since around last November I have spent most of my waking hours along with those of slumber, in a piece of torture equipment that is known by us furry fiends as the Cone of Shame.
I have been biting my paws, gnawing my legs, scratching my ears and itching my chin pretty much relentlessly. Through numerous visits to the vet I have been on many potions and lotions to try and alleviate my inability to avoid scratching and biting my various extremities to such a degree that my ears became infected, the ears were also scratched raw, I was chewing my legs to the extent that I was pulling the fur out and finally, my chin was red raw as a result of me incessantly scratching the itch. I have been tortured by my itchy demons until quite recently when I visited the vet and was seen by a person I had not encountered before. Swabs were taken of my ear infection, the source was identified, lotion administered and the ear problem subsided. Then it was onto the paws and chin which needed an injection to be given in my rump to settle down the symptoms. I got the injection on 29th September and the problem started to calm down within a few days. I was still in the Cone of Shame as my feet couldn’t resist trying to make their merry way toward my ears and chin until last Friday 10th October. I was snuggled up on the sofa next to my favourite assistant and she removed the Cone. I snoozed quietly. After we had been into the garden for our final business trip of the day I was expecting to see the Cone making its evil way back toward my neck, but it strangely stayed away. I slept without the fiendish device on Friday, found myself without the Cone all day Saturday including my sleeping time. Yesterday I was once more allowed to be outside of the Cone. I haven’t scratched, I’m not itchy and I don’t feel the need to rake my chin and ears, with my toes.
There is a general feeling of relief around the house that I am on the path toward a happier retirement from my duties and that I can live out my days pretty much without the infernal item being attached to me. There is some way to go, my assistants watch me like hawks and I often get warning glares if I become too frantic with my scratching. I may be writing on here a bit more often, you never know. Moral of my tail is, I suppose, that even us beagles have to listen to other people now and then as it seems to be in our best interests. Getting old isn’t necessarily fun or all its cracked up to be. Hopefully I can age disgracefully now, without the Cone being used too frequently.
As the summer ploughs on, the days become warmer more frequently and I become more languid and, maybe, lazier. I think I’m allowed to be lazy now that I am allegedly fifteen. In any case, our walks with the parentals have been made earlier and earlier, before the sun is too high and the warmth makes it uncomfortable for myself and my little pal, Lenny.
As it was this morning we were walked briefly across the field outside the front of our house. We were quickly turned around and headed back toward the house. Lenny and I knew what this meant and right on cue, the car was opened so we could be coerced into our travel crates. Along the lane, turn right, turn left, follow the road, through Ludlow, across the bridge, sharp right and then on to our destination of Mortimer Forest. We haven’t been here before so our attempts at trying to leap from the boot of the car into 2,500 acres were not greeted with too much appreciation from the parentals. Something was mumbled about two idiot beagles running around and not listening to commands.
We set off at a pace along the first path, through the cool trees and trying to keep under the cover of the tree canopy. The sun was rising swiftly and we wanted to try and see as much as we could in the time available. Once we had walked briskly around a circuitous route, we found ourselves coming toward a fellow beagle called Chester who was thirteen, off lead and well behaved. What was this sorcery? I fear this is the end game for Lenny and his “training”.
Sooner than we would have liked we found ourselves returned to the car, placed unceremoniously into our travel crates and headed home. Breakfast was of course served in the utility, after which Lenny and I took our leave to stroll over to a sofa each for rest and snoozing.
It’s too hot for an older chap like me, so I suppose I should be grateful I have a walk early morning so I can sniff at my leisure and not have to worry about overheating. We also tend to stay off roads and tarmac paths as these can heat up far too quickly for our pads which burn and become very sore. Whilst the hot weather continues, we will walk early and chill out for the rest of the day.
It’s a scorcher out there and I haven’t blogged for a while. There appear to have been quite a few things that have gone on in my life since I last updated anyone who will listen.
Our walks have become earlier and earlier due to the vagaries of the British summer being very hot on 7-10 days, wet and drizzly for another 7-10 days and then warming up again to the temperature of the suns core recently. As an older fur I am struggling to adjust to the heat, as well as the changes in the temperature. We aren’t stopped from going out for a walk, it just means that the well placed kidney pounce on our dad is performed much earlier than he would like. We have been near and far in our walks, exploring the lanes and fields locally as well as taking road and rail trips to far flung destinations such as Carding Mill Valley and Ludlow. Somewhat unsurprisingly the two trips on the train have deposited us, with our parentals of course, in the pubs of Church Stretton and Ludlow. We didn’t complain and nor did they as the pint of welcome ale was consumed under the shade of a large oak tree in the Kings Arms pub garden at Church Stretton. For clarity we had walked around the town first, exploring the streets and alleys before being dragged kicking and screaming into the pub for a lunchtime swift half. The Blue Boar in Ludlow was also visited so the standard of the ale could be taste tested. Also The Old Street Tavern was checked out and found to be more than reasonable. As quiet and dignified furs both Lenny and I were welcomed into all the establishments.
Lenny being a good boy
We then found ourselves in the car for a trip to Bishops Castle. This is where our vets is located so we watched with much trepidation as we wound our merry way along the lanes toward the town. We needn’t have worried as we were discharged from our travel prison cells, wandered around the town and then found ourselves in the Three Tuns Inn, which is not the pub for the brewery. It is actually owned by Heineken who have recently closed it for “refurbishment”. I think the trips out in the car is a ploy to get Lenny more accustomed to travelling for the future.
For a trip that didn’t include a pub, we were put into the car early one morning and found ourselves pointing north. Some 30 minutes later we parked and the discharge of the beagles took place. We had arrived at Attingham Park, near Shrewsbury. Our friend Griff had told us about this place so we did a dry run to see where it is and what it was like. We will be going back with Griff as we liked it very much. It’s very dog friendly and we saw plenty of other dogs there.
Attingham Park
It is run by the National Trust and allows dogs to walk about for their pleasure. Some places we all need to be on leads but it was great fun.
Attingham Park
Anyway, closer to home we have been cheered up because the farmer has cut all the hay grass in the front field outside our house. Having left it for a few days to dry out (it was very dry thanks to the heat) the farmer rolled up the grass to make excellent obstacles for beagles to sit on. Lenny needed a bit of help but he enjoyed himself. We actually found out about the hay bales from Griff’s predecessor Charley and his brother fur, Boot. They were both pictured jumping from bale to bale, ears all flapping in joyous excitement.
Lenny on the hay bale.
Beyond these shenanigans it has been life as usual. Summer is taking her toll on us, making it too hot for a daytime bimble and meaning that we are forced to try and chill out during the day, all the while having fans pointed at us to try and keep us cooled. I have just got a cooling mat which means I can now snooze with my back legs on my flat bed, have my belly on the cooling mat and my head on the tiled floor. As an older fur I am struggling quite a lot with the heat so I am lucky that the parentals keep an eye on me to make sure I’m not overheating too much as well as make sure all my 14 beds are plumped up and ready. Sometimes my cooling mat is transferred to my sofa, although this is usually accompanied with excessive eye rolling from our staff.
Snooze, its the only thing to do.
Finally, for now, the vegetable and fruit garden is giving up its delights gradually. We have the first and second crops of potatoes, blackcurrants and soon to be more tomatoes and lettuce. Once the chillies, peppers, apples, pears, plums, onions, spring onions, cauliflowers, leeks and Brussel Sprouts have all done their growing I think we will need some new freezers. Hopefully this weather becomes somewhat cooler so Lenny and I can get some more adventures and shenanigans under our harnesses. Watch this space.
A short blog to celebrate Lenny going on longer and more interesting walks. We often don’t get walked together as we tend to try and outdo each other in the idiot stakes. Same scent, same bit of field food, bashing into one another whilst dragging our respective parental along, that sort of thing.
So it was last week that Lenny decided he would take a path less travelled and drag dad along for the fun of it. Along the lane and cross the road, through the Discovery centre and then traverse the big road to find themselves on the lane leading to Stokesay Castle. Lenny walked straight past the castle and continued to the railway level crossing. He waited patiently for dad to check for trains and then open the gate to cross the tracks (very carefully people!!). Along the dirt track and uphill to the edge of Stokesay Wood where the forestry operations were underway. I think they are removing the non native trees and replacing them with broad leaf native varieties.
As the turned right and hugged the lower tree line, Lenny was forging ahead and making sure that dad didn’t slack behind him. Under fallen trees, over fallen trees, through muddy swamp puddles and all the while following the path as it curved away through the cool shaded woodland. They arrived at a stile which Lenny couldn’t get over ( or under) so it was decided that they would follow the path for a while longer. Only after another mile or so did they see a sign that said “Private, no public access” but they didn’t have much of a choice as they were most of the way along the lane. Continuing to the end of the gravel track they appeared on a road much less travelled and turned right back towards home. Lenny was flagging at this point and they found a small stream so he could have some water to renew his vigour. On they marched, over the hill and down past the smaller wood called Sallow Coppice. Across the next busy road and they found themselves on the back roads through the town and onto the common in front of our house. Arriving home it was as much as Lenny could do to have another drink and eat his breakfast. He retired to the sofa to sleep off his exertions before he could recount his tale to me.
I was very impressed at his 7 mile walk. I think he will do it again. I am also pleased that he is getting to find his paws on walks that he enjoys, despite it being without me to “guide” him.
I appear to have had something called a birthday last Sunday. I am told that I was fifteen years old which, in human years, makes me quite ancient, a little dusty and somewhat crumbly. Of course, being a stray, orphan or rejected fur, no one really knows when my actual birthday was so I am happy to get some sort of celebration.
As a result of my birthday I was loaded into my car prison cell and transported to an unknown destination. I was promised fun, plenty of shenanigans and plenty of belly rubs, head scritches and ear ruffles. Lenny came along for the ride and we looked quizzically at each other when loaded into the car. Down the lane, turn right, turn right again, follow the road for miles and miles and miles, turn left, turn right, drive along a motorway and then turn left along a narrow road. We could smell something familiar but couldn’t quite put our paw on what it may have been. As soon as we had parked up and the boot was opened we saw the most welcoming face of Sasha beagle who greeted us in typical fashion. This seemed to make a few people in the vicinity smile and laugh. Out of the car and onto our paws. Welcome to the Wirral Way the sign said. We had arrived at a place called Thurstaston and it looked really nice.
Once the humans had got their greetings completed, we led the way along the gravel path. I was immediately accused of pulling like a steam train and told to slow down due to me being of advanced years. I took no notice as we strolled along the path all the while avoiding the joggers, cyclists and other walkers coming toward us. After a while we turned right and headed along a small lane toward the river Dee. As we wandered out onto the beach I could see Wales on the opposite shore and I felt happy to see the land of my birth. Along the sandy beach we strolled (read pulled like a steam train). Lenny and Sasha walked nicely and they were very politely walking alongside each other, when Sasha wasn’t running ahead and having a lovely time.
That’s Wales over there!
Along the beach we went, sniffing and trying to eat any dead washed up sea creatures, all the while being watched by the parentals who were trying to ruin our fun. Up the steps and back toward the cafe. We knew what was coming next as the question was asked “Ice cream anyone?”. Us furs didn’t get any delicious looking ice cream. We had to sit and be good whilst the humans ate their delicious looking ice creams. After a while we were moved along again and found ourselves being loaded back into our travel crates for the return journey. We said our sad goodbyes and we really hope to see Sasha again soon.
SashaLennyMe
We arrived home and were, for some reason, really rather tired. We managed to sleep until at least our evening dinner, which was a miracle for me, apparently. What a great day, in a lovely place, with brilliant weather and an ace way to celebrate my birthday. I am a very, very lucky lad.
As we yawned and stretched this morning we had no idea of the impending shenanigans we were about to perform. It started like most other Friday mornings and we strolled around the house trying to wake ourselves up to face the day to come. Somewhat strangely we were allowed out into the garden without being shackled to a parental. Lenny and I took the opportunity to scent the grass, eat the gifts left to us by visiting rabbits and get huge eye rolling from our watching staff. We then had a small breakfast and found ourselves each being strapped to a parent. We never made it past the car despite our efforts at trying to reach the field in front of our house. Duly loaded into our travel crates, we were taken down the lane, right, left, along the road for a good distance and then right, left, bear right, turn right and parked.
We had arrived at what I can only describe as a stately home in somewhere called Herefordshire. This was south of our previous southern travels and we had even crossed the county borders and, what’s more, we didn’t need our passports. As we leapt from the car we looked up to see a kind lady coming toward us saying “Welcome to Croft Castle, is this your first visit?”.. Lenny and I told her it was but we were told to sshh by our respective parentals. We went through the big archway in the wall and off we wandered (read pulled, puffed and strained on our harnesses) finding ourselves quickly in a very pretty walled garden full of flowers that Lenny clearly decided needed to be watered.
Once we had explored the walled garden we strolled along to, I think, the main house where the posh people used to live. There was a lovely view away to the south of the house the grounds swept down to a big lake.
We started to walk toward the lake but there were far too many sheep snacks lying about and we were quickly turned around. This was to become a bit of a theme unfortunately. Back past the house and along a small footpath we went, turning left at the end and through the gate. We were going to follow a “green” route which was deemed flat and easy to walk around. This was going to be fun thought Lenny and I at the same time. As we strolled along the fruit trees were protected by barriers and we assumed this was due to deer eating the bark. This was not the case as we saw the cows loom into view and our respective leads got severely shortened. Now I am afraid to admit that I have “history” with our bovine pals so as soon as they started to walk toward the people in front of us, it was deemed too dangerous for me to be walked amongst them. I would point out that I had already started to whine and whimper in anticipation of meeting some ruminants. Again we were hastily turned around and followed another path, this time through an outdoor play and discovery area for children to learn about nature and the environment.
Far too soon we found ourselves back in the vicinity of the car and our ride home from a morning of fun. Having arrived home we were pleased to see that our second breakfast was provided.
Croft Castle looks like a good place to visit. There are many walks through woods, fields, around lakes and up or down hills. Off track walks are mixed with strolls along gravel paths, there is plenty to see and do so I think we will return soon. Whether we will be mixing it with the cows, that’s another question entirely. Dogs are allowed in the majority of the grounds and the cafe, apart from the bit where the parentals pay for things. The big house is also off limits for us dogs which is fine as there are plenty of outside sniffs to keep us amused.
We finally got around to going somewhere more exciting than the local lanes, fields and park areas. It was a lovely sunny morning with the birds chirping in the hedges whilst they dug up worms for their breakfast. I prefer kibble and my chicken food.
Lenny and I were walked briefly across the field at the front of the house and then found ourselves locked and loaded into the car for a trip. What was this sorcery? We had no idea. Anyway off we went along the lane, turn right and right again, then a left, a right and straight on to our destination. Well, kind of. As the boot opened we breathed in the scent of the countryside and gazed out of our prison cells to the hills towering in most directions around us.
Once our parentals had sorted out their footwear, we were attached to a human and bounded from the car. Off we go then. A lady on a recumbent bicycle drifted past and Lenny aroooed. A man ran past, so I aroooed. This was to be a theme for the first ten minutes or so of our trip. As we wandered (read pulled and strained in our harnesses) along the valley floor we kept on looking up and seeing the hill tops in the distance. Through the water, drink in the river, pull my welly wearing parent into the river and then arooo at another person who wandered past us smiling. Across the ford, over the footbridge and follow the little sign with a green band around it toward Light Spout Waterfall. As we stopped at the junction of the paths, we allowed three people to go ahead of us whilst of course arooooing loud at them.
Looking along the path it started to get rocky and uneven, with boulders and gravel for slipping opportunities. This was going to be fun. Our leads were subsequently shortened as we ascended the first section of the rocky path. Over the boulder, around the edge of the path, through the stream and cross the footbridge. This continued for a while until we arrived at the waterfall which was a trickle thanks to there being little rain for some weeks now.
It was still very pretty and very quiet, so we weren’t disappointed. The circular path seemed to go up steeply next to the waterfall and it was at this point that the parentals looked at Lenny and I both puffing like steam trains. They looked again at the steep path, looked down at us and muttered something about a nearly fifteen year old beagle who doesn’t know when to be careful and who “will be broken through the exertion of continuing the ascent”. We had walked far enough for Lenny and I to turn around for the descent of the path which proved equally as proficient for the chances of slips and slides. Being reined in again was a bit boring to be honest. Returning to the main path we decided that it was a better idea to try and walk in the river, as this was also better for our sore paws, as well as explore the sides of the valley.
I drank the water whilst Lenny tried his best to avoid getting his toe nails slightly damp. He had no choice as he was walked through the little ford further down the hill. Back to the car and we were duly placed in our cells for the return home and our breakfast. We just finished our walk as the people arrived for their trip around the hills of valleys. I’m not sure it would have been as quiet as it had been for our circuit.
Living locally to the Long `Mynd is handy for getting there early, avoiding the more crowded times and giving us the chance to go on shorter exploratory walks. I am now lazed under the desk noisily snoring whilst a parent writes this. Maybe they were right about me being tired.
I had no idea, I really didn’t. However we have had two exciting walks in two days and now my assistant has one arm longer than the other.
There we were yesterday as I woke up the assistants by being ill on the carpet. I had been worried by something on Wednesday and it affected me. It’s happened before and will probably happen again. I am a somewhat sensitive fella who is unable to relax, according to local sources.
In any case, Lenny and I were taken out onto the field in front of the house yesterday for a quick stroll about. We had seen car keys going into pockets which gave us the clue that we were soon to be exploring further afield. As we came back toward the house we found ourselves loaded into our travel crates and off down the lane we went. Turn right, then left, follow the road, off the slip road, over the road bumps and then right along a lane that a mouse would struggle to navigate but, somehow, we managed it in the car. We parked, the boot was opened and we let anyone who was in earshot, in Ludlow, know that we had arrived. Out and along the lane we went, toward the piggery. It should be noted at this juncture that there were a large number of puddles, muddy field entrances, muddy puddles and “field food” kindly left by the local wildlife. Lenny and I set about grazing on the snacks and our assistants set out trying to stop us. I was also trying to navigate through the dirtiest of the puddles whilst Lenny tried to avoid them. This was a battle of wills eventually won by the assistants who turned us around before we actually arrived at the piggery. This was very disappointing as we spied many, many snacks that we would have enjoyed very much. As a result of our disappointment I made it my job to try and get as filthy as possible on the return journey to Ludlow whilst Lenny made it his job to circumnavigate as many puddles as possible. He got praised, for some reason. I don’t think he’s a beagle sometimes. Anyway, we walked past the car and turned up the hill by the castle and then through the town where there was a very interesting craft market taking place. We strolled, investigated shop doorways and strolled some more until Lenny and I realised that our stomach alarm clocks were ringing very loudly. It was two hours past breakfast and this error had to be rectified. We encouraged our assistants to return to the car by trying to pull them back down the steep hill which, in turn, caused much grumbling from the top end of the leads. Having returned home we had breakfast and settled down for the rest of the day. Due to beagle wrangling there were no pictures of our shenanigans so you’ll have to take my word for our escapades.
Onto this morning and there was no strolling past the car. We were let out into the garden to run around like a couple of fools. We didn’t let anyone down. Duly harnessed up we were loaded again into the car for another adventure. I looked at Lenny who looked at me. Nope, no idea what was going on but two adventures in two days? We aren’t going to complain (too much). Down the lane, turn right, right again for about seven miles, left, across the crossroads and park. We had arrived in Church Stretton at the base camp of the Long Mynd. Unloaded from the boot we proceeded to try and pull our assistants whilst forgetting that we are connected to them and they are stronger than us. Through the gate and up the hill we went. The road snaked to the left, the sheep looked down at us from the bankside and we tried not to look at the sheer drop into Carding Mill Valley. As we climbed further we were back out into the sunshine and the views stretched away for miles both in front and behind us. Past Snailbeach and onward we went.
Past the Ratlinghope road sign and we could see the hill cresting in the distance. Lenny was beginning to flag now so I pushed on regardless. He has no stamina that brother of mine. We got to the next ridge and looked over in Wales. The views were brilliant and we turned round to look back across the top of the hill we had just conquered.
Lenny had avoided walking in puddles on the way up but he seemed intent on walking through the puddles, bracken and grassy paths on the descent. I was in no mood to stop him as I was trying to drag my assistant up and down the grassy banks, whilst whimpering at the sheep and ponies, looking over the vertiginous drop into Carding Mill Valley and making sure that she got a full body workout whilst wrangling me.
Arriving back at the car we noticed our stomach alarm clocks going off again and this time it was over two hours since breakfast should have been served.
We arrived home and had to suffer the ignominy of having a wet wash and wipe down before we could tuck into our breakfast, albeit very late. A quick run around the house followed by a session of bitey face led to an allegation of us being a couple of idiots and we were told to go and find our beds. Lenny went off to one of my snoozing beds so we had more bitey face to sort out that difficulty. Eventually we were able to settle into a routine of snoozing, snoring and circling. A good day was had by all. Well, me and Lenny enjoyed it. So there it is, I learned that beagle wrangling is a thing. Who knew?
We awoke to the normality of a Wednesday. Nothing unusual, awry or out of place. As we rubbed our eyes, we saw the opportunity for some early morning bitey face shenanigans so Lenny & I crept stealthily toward each other. At this point a low rumble and growl came from nearby and we looked around to see a dad shaped object glaring at us. We wandered around yawning and stretching noisily instead as this is a safer method of waking our parents from their slumber.
Off across the field in front of the house so we could sniff the creatures who had wandered through here overnight. There was plenty of scent for Lenny and I to bay at thankfully. Back home, clean paws, sit nicely (no chance) and breakfast is provided. Then we were back to our beds to let the food settle as, apparently, prolonged bitey face after eating is not good for the digestive systems of beagles. Suddenly we were being harnessed up and ushered out of the door. We walked past the car which always raises suspicion and off across the field. Over the bridge, turn left along the road and then right into the train station. There are many snacks which people have kindly dropped but which we are not allowed to consume whilst we are waiting for the train. As it pulls in, we are encouraged to board quickly and soon we are whizzing along to, who knows where. It turns out that at the next stop we are disembarked from the train and off we wander up to Ludlow for a stroll about. Along the road, turn right, straight on, turn left and down the hill toward the river Teme. Turn right at the bottom of the road and we find ourselves in the garden centre whilst our assistants decide what they need to make our garden bloom and blossom this year and beyond. Out of the shop and across the bridge we turn right up a set of steps and it was at this point that Lenny realised he was attached to an assistant who hadn’t quite appreciated how muddy the path was.
St Laurence ChurchLudlow Castle
Sadly for Lenny he was reined in significantly and he was unable to show his assistant the muddiest, slippiest sections of the path. This path is called the Bread Walk and is an old path through the town. Along the path, down the steps, over the bridge and back up into town we went. Through the market which was quiet and then a stroll around the town looking in shop windows. Many of the places are dog friendly which is good but this requires that the dogs in question aren’t naughty and want to mess about all the time, speak with other dogs, meet every human and then not settle. I’m not sure which of me or Lenny this jibe was aimed at but the glances seemed to be in my direction. As it was we strolled down the hill and the assistants took a doleful look at the very inviting Ludlow Brewery building. Then they looked at me, rolled their eyes and made our way to the train station for the return journey. As we got back to our house we were released into the garden. At this point we demonstrated exactly why we don’t go to many places. Lenny and I whizzed around the garden chasing every scent, baying at the top of our lungs and digging holes or eating the currants that the rabbits had kindly left for us. After 30 minutes or so we were herded back indoors and flopped lazily on our beds for a well earned rest.
So we come to part two. Thursday morning broke cold and bright as Lenny and I attempted another round of bitey face shenanigans before 7am. We were rudely interrupted by what I can only describe as a big grizzly bear glaring at us, so we decided it was safest to retreat to our beds. However we were in for a surprise as our morning was commenced soon after with a stroll across the field in front of the house and then back for breakfast. Shortly after breakfast both Lenny and I realised that our harnesses had not been removed so we were to be easily shackled to our respective assistants. This time we did not avoid the car and we were duly loaded into our travel cells for a trip. It was to be a surprise for us apparently and, wow, what a surprise it turned out to be. For some clarity we have a pal who lives close by. We had seen that he had been on an adventure and it had been decided that we would do a “dry run” to see how long it took to get there, what it was like and then we could look at going again in the future. So it was that we turned right out of the lane, left along the main road, right at the food centre and then followed the road for what seemed to be miles and miles and miles (you get the picture). We went past a sign that proudly announced Croeso i Powys. Past the sign, along the road, turning left and right and deeper in Wales we ventured. As we arrived at our destination the boot of the car was opened and we breathed in the fresh country air. We had arrived at Elan Valley.
That’s a long way downHow many gallons of water!
It was quiet which is apparently the best situation when you have two loud and excitable beagles to wrangle. As we hopped out we made sure everyone knew we had arrived and off we went on our patrol. Up some steep steps alongside a rather forbidding looking wall and we summited to find our view of the reservoir stretching away into the far distance. The wall turned out to be the dam holding back some 8 billion gallons of water! If we had known, we would have taken the path closer to the road instead of the one closest to the dam. Thankfully the path alongside the reservoir is flat and easy for all people to access.
This is fun.
The sun shone and reflected off the surface of the water, the hills towered all around us, the information boards told us facts about the place and, all in all, we were loving walking along having a great time.
As we followed the path to the right of the water we decided not to cross the bridge but to carry on along the waters edge. The path got muddier, the tree roots more slippery and the muttering from Lenny’s assistant grew louder. We walked through the wooded path, listening to the birds in the trees and I was looking out for Nessie in the water. Stopping for some water, Lenny and I were noticeably flagging in our efforts to pull and sniff on our leads to try and scent every aroma. As I am an elderly fellow, and yet incorrigible in my inability to act my age, it was decided for us that we would turn around and head back to the start.
Spot the interloper!
After some further considerable pulling on our respective leads we found ourselves back at the car. We had some emergency biscuits which had, inexplicably, been left in the car and we were loaded in for the return journey. Apparently we feel asleep within a few minutes of starting on the way home. We have no idea as me and Lenny were looking at the insides of our eyelids. Having arrived home we strangely didn’t fancy a whizz around the garden preferring instead to wander quietly to our respective beds for a short snooze.
We are going again as, according to our assistants, the trip had the desired effect of quietening us down for the rest of the day and indeed I am still a little sluggish whilst I dictate this article. If you have the chance to go to Elan Valley and walk along the reservoir, do it. The people are very friendly as we found out when announcing ourselves in the visitors centre and then as we pulled eagerly along the path. The sun shone, the paths were easy, the scenery was spectacular and best of all we were tired (my assistant wrote that last bit).
Dexter 