Life – Page 4

An unexpected adventure

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Throwback Thursday

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.

And then I missed the sofa

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.

He’s five

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.

It is so simple, so often

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.

https://donteatitsoap.com

And then there were four

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.

I am a Teenager

According to the people I live with, today is my birthday. This day was chosen as no one really knows for sure when my actual birthday is.

I am something called a teenager as I have hit the ripe age (for a dog) of thirteen. I don’t know what being a teenager entails but if it means that I get loads more tickles and treats, I am hoping I get to be a teenager for ever now. Even Lenny is being nice to me.

To be sensible for a moment I must admit that I am lucky as I am safe, loved and live a good life. I am grateful for these things as there are many other dogs that don’t enjoy the privileges.

The whirlwind remains

Today marks four years since Lenny came to live with me.

I was surprised to see people at the door to my house. I was assailed by a pup of about eight months of age and we proceeded to run around like idiots having fun. When the ladies who delivered Lenny left we kind of looked at each other with some trepidation and then proceeded to run our parents ragged for about two weeks whilst we got used to living together. It was like dropping a furry hand grenade into my life.

He’s been here four years. We have been to all sorts of places, seen many things and met many people. Lenny has settled into his life of safety. He has learned some commands and knows he will get ear tickles and head scratches if he’s a good lad.

Whisper this but I am so pleased he’s here. We may annoy each other and do silly things but I know he’s safe and loved which is the best thing ever. Happy fourth Gotcha Day Lenny Lendog.

12 weeks and counting.

I haven’t been on here much recently as I have been busy recuperating from the operation on my cruciate ligament back on 6th January. I know I reported progress around three weeks after the operation but thought I would let you know how I am getting on. That is of course if you are interested.

I was at the vets each Monday for about 6 weeks after the operation. I had laser treatment but I avoided wearing the trendy goggles that are normally used. I had one parent alternating each night staying downstairs with me as I was banned from stairs for over a month. It was extremely boring staying on the ground floor as I was being regaled with stories from Lenny about sleeping in his bed and being able to stretch out, not being hassled by me during the night and getting midnight snacks whilst I wasn’t there. For the first few weeks the only outside time I got was in the garden which only added to me feeling stir crazy. Then during the day my walks started although they were short and slow which was due to me healing. Also my parents said that I was normally an idiot on a walk because I can smell a squirrel/rabbit/fox/deer (delete as applicable) from around a mile away. I went along a quiet road at a slow pace to help build up the muscle wastage that I had suffered over the preceding months. My mum was doing physio sessions with me three or four times a day. My leg was being worked hard but carefully to ensure that there were no relapses. Come rain and shine I was out on a short walk and then back to the house where I shown how to exercise my leg and get stronger. Treats and a peanut butter lick mat may have helped here, so I am not putting it all down to my own will power. Suddenly I was allowed upstairs although at first I was lead walked up to my bed at night. During the day I was still restricted to downstairs but I didn’t mind too much. After a couple of weeks of being accompanied I was found upstairs as I had secretly engaged in a bout of snout jousting with Lenny which had finished with us finding the best spot to look out of the window and check squirrels in the garden. We weren’t in the proverbial good books for a while, especially until they could ensure that I hadn’t done damage to myself.

When I went back to the vets for the last time, around three weeks ago they said I was doing really well, mum was doing a great job on my rehab and physio and I could start to go on longer walks. We had to increase the mileage slowly each week from less than a mile to a mile, a mile and a quarter all the way through to a mile and a half currently. I have been going to different places and its got a bit more interesting. I sill don’t walk with Lenny as he goes for longer walks than me and we tend to compete for scents when we are together. I’ve had a couple of setbacks where I started limping a little and then my front left leg was playing up. With the aid of some medicine and anti inflammatories I seem to be on the right path now though.

I couldn’t have done it without my parents. And even Lenny helped by giving me time and space to heal. He knew I was in some discomfort as soon as I arrived home after the operation although I think that the onesie, Fentanyl patch and me looking spaced out might have given the game away.

Anyway yesterday it was 12 weeks since the operation and we went to the beach in the wind and rain. We met up with our good friend Griff who brought his parents along. We walked and there was chatter with some cake and coffee mixed in. I’d had three walks all over a mile and a half. I didn’t even realise I had gone that far and there are no ill effects today.

We actually found the Bluebird Cafe in Ferring which was an excellent place to go and very, very dog friendly. Today we have mainly been sleeping and dreaming.

I’m on the road to recovery. For a “nearly” thirteen year old beagle I feel bionic but I am being reined in by my concerned parents. There’s life in the old fella yet.

Bugsy has fallen

Before Christmas I read about one of my longest known friends who had been diagnosed with a tumour in his leg which was inoperable. His parents surrounded him with love and showered him with attention as they knew that he would be making his longest journey in the near future. When I saw the news my heart filled with so much sadness. It was sadness that this would be his last days, weeks or months and that I knew another of my oldest friends would be leaving us.

Bugsy beagle was born on 7 December 2011 and arrived at his forever home on 9 February 2012. He immediately ingratiated himself on everyone and made an instant impression on his mums heart. He quickly became the chief meeter and greeter at his mums spa in the Midlands. Everyone who worked there, or visited, knew Bugsy was around either through seeing him in the office or hearing him in the office. He made the place his own as you would expect of a cheeky, happy and very much loved beagle.

When I joined social media in December 2013 Bugsy was one of the first dogs that I communicated with. Always happy to lend me an ear, tell me where I was going wrong with training parents or explaining how to use the “eyes” to score extra treats, I knew I could rely on Bugsy to come up with the goods.

He was “best dog” at his parents wedding and then welcomed a human brother in February 2019. He said he was a little confused that there was a new pup who was getting showered with attention although Bugsy did admit that he grew to like his new brother particularly at meal times when the number of snacks strangely increased. Bugsy was at the centre of a loving home and knew his cheekiness and fun would always ensure he remained endeared to all who met him, but specially his parents.

And so it was that I heard the news before Christmas that he was unfortunately quite poorly. The initial few weeks turned into a month and then to six weeks. All the time he was stoic in his attitude ensuring that he upheld the tradition of the beagle by baying loudly, never missing a treat and making sure his family knew where he was. After a course of medicine the final X-Ray showed what had been feared, had actually happened. It was to be his time. Time for the worst decision but the most loving decision. Time for the sadness and reflection to flow and envelope him in the love that had cradled him throughout his life. He made his final and longest journey being cuddled by his mum and he was allowed to sleep his longest sleep.

Bugsy, my friend, travel well and sleep easy. Those who have gone before will guide you to the everlasting meadow where the sun shines warmly upon your fur. There is no more pain, no more suffering for your time here has concluded. You have left the most giant of paw prints on the hearts of your parents who will never let you leave their minds. You will continue to make them smile, to laugh at your naughtiness and to remember your life and all its adventures.

Run free Bugsy. I am honoured to be called your friend. May your path be lit for you to find those who have gone before. Rest easy.