Showing posts with label Boxers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boxers. Show all posts

Stranger things have happened

Something strange is going on. First, I found a live mouse, happily eating away at the poison in the mouse bait box. When I went back the next day to clear out the body, it was gone! Now, who or what moved the body? Then, I heard a strange knocking on the kitchen door. The Boxers were fast asleep, but soon became curious at the noise. I peered out of the bedroom window and saw a fox trying to get in through the cat flap! I shoo'ed it away and let the dogs out. They were on its scent straight away, but it was through the hedge and gone. I did find it left a deposit on the lawn though. And, any idea what this little chap is up to? 


I watched with interest as the squirrel jumped down from the fir tree and ran across the terrace. I've seen it a few times and each time it goes to the same place to nibble at the mortar. Suggestions on a post card, please!

But it's not just the animals behaving strangely. Mr B used the new mulching lawn mower last weekend. It was the first opportunity since getting back from holiday, and although I had given him the safety demonstration, he still managed to injure himself. I was away with the weeds, having a field day, pulling up two foot weeds from the driveway (note to self: must go round with wheelbarrow and pick up weeds). Now, the garden is large and Mr B was pootling about in the woodland meadow (that's euphemism for not mowing that bit under the trees). I didn't hear a thing until he wandered through the house, applying pressure to his wrist. In a very calm voice, he said 'I've ruptured my radial artery, please could you find the tourniquet?' I didn't panic, although I was imagining the worst. I found the tourniquet and applied it, then sent him to lie down while the blood stopped. It was a strange injury though - there was no blood! The artery had ruptured under the skin, but the skin wasn't broken. Apparently, he stabbed himself with some bit on the mower that he was fiddling with. It flew up and hit him on the wrist. He felt the pain and saw his artery 'blow up'. I was concerned about nerve damage to his hand from any loss of circulation, but thankfully, it's all OK.
  
The next day, the Boxers were having a bit of rough and tumble in the garden, and the next thing, the little big dog, did his best collapse ever. Now, this isn't something to be laughed. It's neither strange nor funny. The little one has aortic stenosis, a condition affecting the major artery in his body. He's mostly OK, but can collapse when he's over-excited. His breathing was very laboured, but he still wagged his tail as he lay there. Adorable boy x.
My sister in law was in Shackleford for one day this week. She lives in Perth, Australia and has been in London and Antwerp on business (pink diamonds you know). Anyway, my brother asked for a mac in a sac. A red one in XL. Of course, Secretts had every other colour but not red! So I spent a happy half hour or so juggling macs in sacs of various colours, waiting for brother dearest to text back which alternate colour he preferred. Eventually, his choice was made - malibu blue. Done. Sold to the lady juggling macs in sacs.

And finally, I've been busy guest blogging about Shackleford at Smitten by Britain and writing about A Homemade School in South Africa for Jump! magazine this week. Please do pop over to these wonderful sites and have a look.

The wrong socks

Today, I am wearing mis-matched socks. I am doing so because I wore mis-matched socks yesterday. And tomorrow, I will wash two pairs of socks, put them back in the drawer and balance will be restored. It's my own fault. I was in a rush. I hadn't packed the washing away, and grabbed two pink, stripy socks from the wash basket - easily done. I didn't notice the socks were wrong until I got dressed after swimming. I was a bit embarrassed but no-one seemed to notice. Today I deliberately paraded my wrong socks in the changing rooms, and still no-one commented. So maybe it's wrong socks day more often than we think and everyone does it. I do recall wearing slippers to Sunday School on more than one occasion, and pyjama pants to school - once!


The Boxers have offered no opinion on the matter. They are asleep, situation normal.

Where does the time go?

Strawberry plant coming back to life,
April 2012, Lesley Beeton
I have asked myself this question twice today. Once, because I meant to reply to an email last week and completely forgot, and secondly because I'm putting the finishing touches to the month end, quarter end and year end accounts. Ouch! Not my favourite time of year, hence I'm distracting myself with all sorts of things I shouldn't. I'm designing our new bathroom. I have chosen the furniture design and tiles and marked out the bathroom with masking tape. Don't stand on the tape when you go to the loo! I've also bought my birthday present. I shouldn't have really. My husband did want to buy it for me, but I was in the right place at the right time, and I've got what I want. Now I have to put it away for three weeks. I've also been blogging and gardening.

The 'boys' have kept me pretty busy too. The recent fine weather brought out a few loonies to the Woods. One lot even offered us a bit of German sausage! We declined. There has been an increase in the number of poo(h) sticks. I know, Pooh sticks is a game played by honey bears and donkeys and piglets in the woods. I mean of course, poo bags on sticks in the woods. But I am easily amused. I'm told that it will all degrade over time, but why can't people just clear up after their dogs?

Occasionally, my lovely Boxers will be disgusting dogs; like the time the big big dog pee'd on my leg in his excitement at going on a new walk. But yesterday, was really awful. They had been on a lovely run across the farm, and had a drink from the bird bath, then decided to run at full speed, which prompted a vomit - into my slipper, when I was wearing it! I screamed so loudly my husband rushed over thinking I had broken my leg! I don't do vomit, or dead mice but that's another story.

When I was growing up in South Africa we had a splendid tortoise as a pet. Meat Pie was his name. He was fond on tomatoes. And he would come when called. I recall my Dad doing mouth to mouth on him after he fell in the swimming pool. We then dried him out in a low temperature oven. He came round with a cough and a splutter and is still going strong in a reptile park near Johannesburg. We think he is close to one hundred years old. *The action shot below is a fun 'on dog' demonstration of 'hardandfast' the British Heart Foundation promotion for hands-only CPR. Check out the Defibrillator Club here.

Hands-only CPR demonstration, for fun only!
The neighbour and I saw off a strange fellow asking for scrap metal. The 'boys' were pretty vocal too. The Village suffers from opportunistic burglaries. Many of us met up on Friday night to chew over the village issues. It was a fun evening in the Pub. I don't think anything was decided but it feels like everyone wants to do something. One of the village matriarchs was propping up a bar stool . I had never met her before. She is a bit fierce, but mostly friendly, I think.

On the dog walker training, we have made some progress. It's amazing what a bit of steak can do for Boxer motivation. We will know tomorrow if we have been successful; when the dog walker turns up I expect two Boxer dogs to jump in the back of the van. Only a few weeks to go now before they go to Kennels.

Gosh, well that is a lot of news, look at the time! Don't forget to read Jill Spain's guest post before you go.

On banking, mice and lovely shoes

I feel grubby today. The day started normally enough - kicked husband out of bed to run the Boxers, then off for a swim, then a dash into town to catch up with the bank manager. He asked to see me. I think he wants to sell me something. He's a nice enough chap, just not very convincing. Perhaps it's because banking is so regulated now. You must have a stocks and shares ISA. OK, then tell me what you've got. I can't. I'm not regulated. Stare at sad man. I give you permission to tell me about the ISAs. I will try to send you a brochure. Then another sad man will want to meet you and ask you lots of pointless questions, after which I will probably say No anyway, because the initial charge is too high. He stares at me. Am I using all the benefits I pay for? Yes. Clearly, he is regulated to sell me insurance. And isn't this the problem with high street banks? Just stick to doing what you do best. Keep my money nice and secure for me until I need it to buy a nice pair of shoes. Don't be my stock broker and don't sell me insurance. I use specialist advisers for both of these. End of conversation. There was more to say but it is so boring, the Boxers fell asleep while I was recounting my story to them. 


Purple Fitflops, March 2012, Lesley Beeton
The Boxers did however like my new shoes. So obviously an impulse buy, my credit card didn't have time to protest.


Now, back to the garden. What gorgeous weather we are having this week. Everything is germinating in the greenhouse, everything needs watering. I'm watering from the water butts, but if we don't get rain to fill them up again can I fill them from the tap??!! Water rant.


The mice are enjoying the spread too. They've had quite a few of the broad bean seedlings, dug up nearly all the sweet corn, and nibbled on the courgette seeds. At this point it is me 4 mice 0. The war goes on...


The dog walker training goes on too. The Boxers are happily walking with her once a week in preparation for when they are in the boarding kennels. If only we could get them to jump in her van. Next time, we are going to sit in the van with a cup of tea and hope that the boys will want to join us.


And just because I can, this is the view from my office today. 
Sunny Surrey, March 2012, Lesley Beeton
Look out for a guest post coming soon from Christmas Pie Crafts.


A puppy saved my life – Brin’s story


This story first appeared as a guest post at Christmas Pie Crafts. Thank you to Jill for hosting my guest post. I look forward to hosting a guest post from Jill in the very near future. What a really good idea, and very friendly blogging.
  
We never thought it would happen to us. Growing up in Johannesburg, crime was all around us, but somehow we were much more aware of danger then. We moved to a village in Surrey. It all seemed idyllic, just what we had imagined, and longed for. A large garden, neighbours separated by woods, no street lighting. Surely no evil would be lurking here.

Leafy Surrey, no evil here
How wrong we were. Just three months after moving in, still unpacking, decorating and renovating, a burglar broke in to our home.  He forced a bathroom window and ransacked our property. Nothing was left untouched. And he stole just about everything of value, some items of great sentimental value. Our lovely old rescue cat, Rosie, never quite recovered from the fright of it, and we lost her a few months later.

The Police came and rattled off the statistics about burglary in Surrey. It wasn’t very reassuring but we withstood the assault and moved on with our lives. It wasn’t going to happen to us again. We beefed up window and door locks, fenced the garden and secured the garden gates. No alarm system, we said. We don’t need it.

Oh, but we did need it. Four months later, coming home from work early on a Friday afternoon, I saw a man at the front door, inside the front door, inside the house. Almost in slow motion I jumped out of the car, trying to get the key in the front door, while dialing 999 and shouting at the operator for the Police.

Luckily for me, the burglar escaped through the broken window at the back of the house. The Police dog arrived minutes later and gave chase, but never caught him. He took nothing with him, but had caused several thousands pounds of damage breaking into the house.

We had a terrible weekend. I suffered from flashbacks, thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t run away. I had run into the road to shout for help, but no-one could hear me. There was no-one around.

We ordered an alarm system, with monitoring and a link to the Police. We paid a security company to be first call, so that I would never face a choice like that again.

Darling Brin
And we found our darling Boxer dog, Brin. My saviour. Brin has the most effervescent personality. He’s a real human dog, very sensitive. And he loves his walks. It was because of him that I started to leave the house again. He depended on me and I needed to be brave. Slowly, the terrible migraines lifted. The little panic attacks receded. I actually started to enjoy the walks, too. And Brin grew into my steady companion. He’s a big boy, so provides quite a presence to strangers, too.

I can honestly say that little puppy saved my life, gave me courage, and showed so much commitment to our relationship.

Five months later we brought Themba home. Themba means ‘hope’ in Zulu. You can read Themba's story here.


Themba’s story

Themba is a delightful little Boxer dog. He is highly intelligent, spirited, even naughty. And he packs a punch. He’s tough. Which is just as well, given his health issues. He was advertised in the local paper. The Breeder wasn’t all that friendly but a little research turned up that she is a top breeder of Boxers and has been a judge at Crufts. Themba has a pedigree as long as my arm. He was also crypt-orchid, has a broken tail and has aortic stenosis. But apart from that, he’s ace.

Being crypt-orchid can be a problem, so he underwent a small procedure to remove the undescended testicles from his body when he was about a year old.

There is nothing we can do about his tail. I think it must have been damaged during rough and tumble with his littermates. He was born shortly after the ban on tail docking was implemented in the UK.

And then there is the aortic stenosis. This is a problem in Boxers, but there is a register, which is supposed to provide prospective Boxer puppy buyers with information. I only found this register by chance this year. Themba’s dam and sire were tested for aortic stenosis. The bitch has it. That in itself doesn’t preclude her from breeding (based on pure Mendelian genetics), but it should mean that the breeder tells buyers about it. She didn’t, but our vet is very good and picked it up straight away. And he has been seen by a cardiologist. There is no treatment required at the moment, but he may suffer from heart failure as he gets older. He has collapsed a few times due to over-exertion but there is no evidence that this is related to his heart problem.

The Breeder did offer to take him back, but as he could not be used for stud, I worried that he would be destroyed. So we kept him, warts and all, and I so glad we did. Brin adores him.

This story raises two important issues. One, dog breeders need to be brought to account. This breeder was highly successful. We saw both Themba’s parents and they were fine dogs. She was not a puppy farmer. We felt confident in our purchase. We asked all the right questions. Our puppy was Kennel Club registered. Shouldn’t the Kennel Club have told us that his mother was registered with aortic stenosis, albeit mild?

Secondly, our two puppies, both pedigree Boxers, came from very different backgrounds. Brin was bred in a family home. We met his mother and grandmother, both beautiful animals. We were interviewed by the breeder’s young children! He was completely socialized to dogs, cats, horses and children. A clear example of nature versus nurture.

We have had the Boxers in our lives for five years, and we couldn’t honestly say which one we love more. They are part of our family, and in case you are wondering, Themba means ‘hope’ in Zulu.


You can read Brin's story at Christmas Pie Crafts, where I am guest blogging today.


I've seen the Easter bunnies

That's right. The Boxers and I are happy to report the first sightings of Thumpers in the Woods. Bambi has been around all winter, but there is a particularly encouraging moment in the calendar when the bunnies are about. Joy!

But along with the bunnies comes the hayfever. I felt awful yesterday morning. It took me an hour or two to figure out that the sneezes and itches heralded the return of hayfever to my life.

On our pleasant dog walk yesterday afternoon, I looked up and for a second thought I was in Midsomer Murders territory. No, there was no dead body. Just 'spooky man' in a coat climbing a ladder! He can do that - he owns the land. Have I told you that part of Midsomer Murders is filmed here? It does lend itself to the eerie, especially at dusk. And on that point, the sunset last night was spectacular. The house opposite the Woods must have had an incredible view.

The mouse in the veggie patch has been dispatched. It was reasonably easy, although it was a very fat mouse and contrary to the instructions on the mouse bait trap, the little creature did not crawl away to die. He apparently got stuck in the box and died there. Cue husband having to deal with that. Sadly, though, his big brother has dug up some of the seeds I planted in the greenhouse yesterday. The sweet corn seeds were sitting on top of the soil, and some of the courgette seeds had been nibbled and discarded. Going to move the mouse bait tonight.

It has been a lovely warm day today. The Boxers have been reclining on their day bed all day. Three loads of washing got dry. And Dad has planted his hanging baskets. All good news.

And apropos of completely nothing, the Footballer has been seen in the Village again. We thought he may have moved out of the big house, but I have seen him a few times (in my rear view mirror), sweeping up the grand driveway. I wonder who is with him?

Waiting for Bill

Bill is our wonderful Milkman. He delivers three days a week. His arrival is announced by a sharp bark and eight legs going at full tilt down the passage to the bedroom window. I don't know what he must think. He has been delivering to us for six years, and three times a week he witnesses the ritual Boxer welcome. It's a friendly welcome. He always waves, and lights a cigarette before setting off again.

It's the same with the Postman, except that the little big dog sits under the letter flap, ready to take the letters from the postman. He is used to it now, there are no teeth involved. A stand-in postman might be surprised though. A builder working at our home once described the little big dog as 'licking with his teeth'. Hilarious, but a very good description.

The slightly wonky cat from across the road gets much the same treatment. He seems unaware of the rumpus he is causing, as he trundles around the driveway looking for a place to do his ablutions. He's wonky because his pelvis was broken in a car accident, and several thousands of pounds and a dozen or so pins later, he walks, just a bit crooked.

In spite of the lengthening days and the approaching Equinox, the little big dog's seasonal alopecia has returned. It was diagnosed last year and by June the hair had re-grown. We hope for a similar outcome this year.

We have been recording rainfall in Shackleford this year. I can confirm Thames Water's figures. We have had about half of the expected rainfall, although March is shaping up to be on target. The average rainfall for March in Guildford is about 35mm. So far, we've had 21mm. We could do it. In the meantime, I've bought more watering cans and we will look into getting a pump to pump water from the water butts onto the veggie patch. You can read my water rant here.

The recent wet weather, although good for the garden, has had some unwanted downsides. Star-shaped paw prints on the white duvet cover. I agree, the best place to be on a wet afternoon is curled up on the bed, but for humans NOT dogs!

Photo collage and composition

I'm enjoying my own little project in photography. The garden lends itself to photography at the moment; interesting colours and shapes everywhere. My point-and-click camera does a good job, but I am looking at getting something a bit more grown-up, to change my perspective on the world through a lens.

These are a small selection of my photo collage and compositions.

Hanging in there, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton
Maui, photo collage,
February 2012, Lesley Beeton 
Chocolate cupcakes, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton 
Mixed Spring composition, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton
Boxers, photo collage,
March 2012, Lesley Beeton

Spring pleasantly


Spring is sprung, look lively.

It’s a busy time in the Village. The birds are eating for six, getting ready for nesting, the squirrels are stealing the bird food, and the pigeons are hanging out in the owl box! There is an intruder in the veggie patch; a subterranean intruder which is very mouse-like and who I wish would just pack up and go before I have to dispatch him. I have given him warning that if he is still around when the pea shoots and broad bean shoots arrive, he will be sent packing. He will not eat my precious harvest this year.

The Woods are lively too.  A herd of deer stalks the woods. It wouldn’t be so bad if they just stood quietly and watched us, but they wait until we get close to them, then charge across the path, startling the Boxers. They are good though and a stern ‘Leave!’ usually does the trick.

We have a new walk-mate. We heard the familiar mewing last week and since then have seen the Buzzard returning to its roost each evening. Spectacular. I wish I could photograph birds. My little point and click camera is useless for that. And anyway, I’d have to make sure the Boxers stood dead still too…

The Stalker Cat has been out the last few evenings. Frank is a large friendly boy, but he does rather lie in wait for the Boxers as they go out for their late night tinkle. The little big dog has a very deep bark, sorry neighbours, but if it wasn’t for your cat…

There’s a new farm shop in the next village, selling their own free range pork, poultry and eggs. We enjoyed our visit to the farm at the weekend, and had a lovely drive from Puttenham over to Tilford for lunch. Puttenham Common is a fantastic place for dog walking. I prefer the top car park, the views are splendid and the sunsets are glorious. It is a vast estate, popular with dog walkers, ramblers, horse riders and bird watchers.  The Tarn car park next to the lake is a beautiful spot for anglers.

We had a lovely lunch at The Donkey (reviewed here); two gorgeous rescued donkeys hee-hawed happily in the Sunday sunshine. Sadly, the Boxers couldn’t come with us. Dogs are welcome but we were with friends and it wasn’t convenient. They did enjoy their sunset walk in the woods though, and a snooze afterwards in front of the fire. The evenings are still a bit chilly, and I’m still keeping tender plants under cover. The garden, though is ready for Spring, buds everywhere and lots of colour. Such a wonderful time of year for humans, dogs and wild life.

Living the high life

Well, not quite. The Mad Dog Woman has been out! Yes, she really has. And not just shopping (which she does rather well), but to a private viewing of an art exhibition. You can read about it here. It was a lovely evening out. I saw Kai's Mummy who was with one of the exhibitors. That was fun. She also lives in the Village. We gossiped, a little...
How? Caroline Jackman
And on this fine spring morning, I have taken a little drive to the Farm Shop to pick up a few things for the weekend. It's not going to be the most fun weekend, perhaps just a little trip into Town but mostly we will be waiting to hear from the Hospital that Dad's little op has gone OK and we can pick him up.

It has been a busy morning, though as month end came a bit early so many of our invoices are still unpaid. The Billing Secretary is keeping busy though, and as she says 'I get them all in the end'. That's the way. Thankfully, we have very few non-payers, most likely because of the business we are in, but I do notice that not all bills are settled with 30 days. Other Consultants insist on payment within 14 days or interest charges will apply. We haven't got to that point, yet.

The Boxers, meanwhile, have been trying a new dog food. They are not the best eaters. They ate it pretty quickly, so I guess it passed the taste test. Now it has to pass the economic test. The online shop I usually use supply a 12kg bag of Hill's for £35. That's pretty good against the local store. The new dog food is supposed to be 'natural' and better nutrition and sells for £35 for 15kg. Hhhmm, I hate change, will let you know. 

Mud woman??

Can you believe it? Someone searched for 'mud woman' and found this blog! Imagine their surprise, imagine my surprise! I have been muddy, dog walkers sometimes are, but I'm mostly just mad.

There was something mad going on last night in the Village. The foxes were at it - all night long. Screeching and moaning and barking. It sounded like an orgy in the woods. It really upset the Boxers. The big big dog barked for about an hour; a high-pitched pathetic bark as if to say 'Mummy, what are those naughty foxes doing when it's bed time?'. Exactly. The little big dog slept through it all. 

Perhaps he was too tired to move after discovering the hedgehogs are awake in the hedge. Poor things. The Boxers have been watching them for two days. As long as they don't come out of the hedge, they'll be fine. Read what happened last spring.

The boys have been a bit tired today and are now having a lie-down; must have been that little bit of savoury mince at lunctime. Come to think of it, I had the same thing and could also do with a nap, but have just noticed a grassy vomit in the bed (dog bed!).

And finally, we must apologise to the hash runners. I've been meaning to for sometime. Really sorry if some of the hashers couldn't follow the trail. The Boxers may have eaten the hash flour marks in the woods...

Skipping through the blogger-sphere?

There's a funny thing that happens on the internet. You read something and you think you know all about it. You see a small snippet of someone's life, and you think you know that person. Well, I think I can safely say, that you don't know me. How could you? I've lived 99.9% of my life outside of the Twitter-and Blogger-sphere. But now that I'm here, I want to share more with you, and I would like more of you to share with me. My profound Blogger observation of the day: blogging is interactive. There was recently a discussion on the Mumsnet Bloggers Forum about this, about how we Bloggers paste a link to our latest blog post, and run, without even looking at the entry above ours. I have to say I have done this, mainly because at first, I did try and read a good half dozen or so, and comment, and almost never got a comment back. I still read the front page of Mumsnet Blogs, as they roll over, and I do like the Featured Blogs, and I comment on most blogs that I read, because someone has taken the time to write something original. 
But the best way of connecting with like-minded people, not just Bloggers, does appear to be on Twitter, the micro-blogging platform (see my new Twitter local heroes here). Clever people can say a lot in 140 characters, or less!
With another hat on, I write a blog about life in an English village with two Boxers (dogs not fighters, as one Twit said). My latest blog post is about locally sourced and produced food, and why I think pubs and restaurants should be proud to use local ingredients when designing their menus.
In my most recent past, I was a scientist. I love Science. I am and always will be a Biologist, one of those traditional scientists who wants to understand the basics of Science, and teach others all about it. Now, I use writing to interact with others about Science, about how Science is all around us, and how we all use Science everyday. I have recently written about the use of Mind-body interactions in chronic illness, a subject very close to my heart.

And in (almost) another life, I dabbled in the art world, a world I felt so at home in, although not a very good artist myself. But I connected with people through their art and minePainting and drawing have always been part of my life. My doodles are legendary, they unlock my inner self, much like a meditation. I have always felt strongly that more people should be encouraged to create; it is a way of expressing yourself even if you can't find the words to say how you feel. 

So the next time you are tempted to just gloss over someone's blog, stop, read and interact. People are amazing, and each one of us has an important story to tell.


For good health you need well-being

Beach, near St Brelade, Jersey, Summer 2010, Lesley Beeton

A little before Christmas, Radio 4 presenter Jenni Murray asked if her weight was to blame for her breast cancer. I didn't blog about this then as the year ended with so many cancer stories and I felt that this could be re-visited in the new year. So here it is. Yes, being overweight can lead to cancer, but it's not the only risk factor. And is it really helpful to be mean to yourself about having cancer?

I prefer to promote well-being for good health. Sounds simple enough but quite hard to achieve. There are no get-slim-get-happy quick programmes. Well-being comes from within. Well-being is giving yourself a 'strawberry', a little treat to remind you of what a beautiful person you are. If you are proud of yourself and confident in your inner beauty, you will want to be healthy on the outside too.

Losing weight is difficult, and can be lonely too. Finding a sociable way to exercise will help you to maintain the activity. We all know these things, we just have to find the one thing that we can remain committed to. Start with small steps and build up your exercise. Add in me-time and happy-time; well-being will be within your grasp.

I started swimming twelve years ago. I joined a small club with a great pool. We are known as the early swimmers. We really care about each other. We range in age from thirty to nearly eighty! Swimming is a great way to burn calories, build muscle and tone. I have a yoga and meditation routine for breathing and stretching. A great way to well-being.

For a more energetic activity, try walking two Boxer dogs! No time for feeling sorry for yourself when you've got a dog to take care of, and walking in a beautiful place can clear your head and help you focus. And we can learn a lesson from the dogs too. They always stretch before their walks, an elegant cat pose!


There are no guarantees for good health, but well-being brings so many benefits.


Village politics?

Our Village is like many other villages in several respects. It is a rural village in a beautiful part of the country. It wants to maintain a certain standard for its residents and visitors. It also wants to retain the traditional charm of an English village. Surely, that is why many of us moved here in the first place. Now, here's the thing. And I feel I can say this because, having only lived here for six years, I am still considered an outsider. The Village has not come to terms with the fact that it is a commuter village. It may not be on a rail route to London, but the access to the A3 is a big drawcard for City workers.

While this keeps the Village house prices up, it also means that there aren't that many people in the village during the day. And those that are in the village are (mostly) either stay-at-home Mums or retired. So who will keep the Village traditions alive? It's a question hotly debated by the interested minority.

I love living in this village. When we moved here we decided we would do our bit, and slowly but surely we have been making our contribution to village life. At the very least, we are well known for our bonkers Boxers!

But there is an old guard, people to whom we are very grateful for all they have done. Perhaps it's time for the old ways to move over and for new ideas to come to the fore. Perhaps the new families are shy, or don't want to upset the status quo. I don't know for sure, but the one thing that sets our Village apart from other villages is our people. Our people are kind, hard-working, interested and committed. I am proud to be a part of the Village.


Beat it, Bambi, Boxers about!

Shame, they say the weather is getting cooler again. We have been enjoying our walks getting later each day, accompanied by birdsong - and bambi's. Yes, loads of deer about. I hope they've got their thickets ready for the weekend. They are rubbing their little scent glands on everything, it drives my 'boys' wild.

The other thing they do is stand in the path, in pairs and then bound off in opposite directions. And as I walk the dogs on lead that leaves me standing arms outstretched with a 40kg dog on each arm. A stern 'leave' usually does the trick and they come back to heel, but I do try to anticipate problems. My eyesight is a lot better than theirs, so if I spot a deer, I'll make our presence known before we startle them. 

Recently, we have had to use a torch on our walks, and then it's a game of eye spy for me. I wear a head torch and I can see several pairs of blinking eyes in the undergrowth as we walk by. It's usually very quiet and I can feel the eyes following me. The dogs don't see anything, but they can sense we are not alone. They are also quite reluctant to walk too far from me in the dark - big scaredy cats!

The pleasant weather also brings out a few more wierdo's, and a lot more rubbish in the car park. There were some rather suspicious little plastic bags thrown out yesterday... Thankfully, though the 'boy's have stopped showing too much interest in these items, and haven't eaten anything latex for quite sometime.



A good walk, now off to the pub

I really needed my walk today. Poor dogs, they must have wondered where we were going. But it showed me that they can find their way back to the car from anywhere in the woods. Each time we reached a junction they turned for home, but I said ‘Come on, this way’ and on we walked. I also realised that they are far more aware of their environment than I previously thought. The Ranger has been asking for volunteers for a work party in the woods and has pinned notices to some of the trees. The dogs were most interested in these trees, even though the notices are not at dog level, but could be seen as we walked along the pathways. Clever boys.

Anyway, back to me.  Its been a busy couple of days, I knew it would be as I get back into the swing of things in 2012. I have been updating my blogs and making plans for new projects, as well as dealing with the last of the Probate accounts and trying to be a good daughter. I’m afraid I may be failing on the last. I am just too cross with Dad. He keeps saying he hasn’t got time for this or that. No, Dad, its not that you are so very busy, it's simply that you are depressed. And I am tired.

So I walk the dogs, and think and clear my head. And what better place than in the woods with just the squirrels darting about at this time of year. After the awful storms yesterday, we had to pick our way through the fallen branches and climb over two tree trunks. Exciting! I did think we would get wet again tonight - red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning, and all that. But it has been a pleasant day and it was a lovely walk. Now looking forward to meeting the Village girls in the pub.

To board or not to board?

Today, I went to see another boarding kennel. That makes five, and to be honest, I wasn't hopeful. You see, my 'boys' have never boarded. Granny and Grandpa have always been on hand to house- and dog-sit. But, since Mom passed away earlier this year, we feel that it just wouldn't be fair to Dad to ask him to do it on his own. Besides which, he's not really in to dog walking or exercising in general. He does do loves and cuddles very well, though.

So, off I went, ready to be disappointed yet again. I arrived as a very excited Molly was being collected by her just as excited owner. I sat in my car and watched them be re-united. I felt quite emotional. Molly is a three year old rescue dog. Her owner was very happy to talk to me about his experience of the kennels, and has been a return customer for ten years. Tick one - happy dogs, happy owners.

Then I met Kate, a lovely doggie people person (tick two) - you know what I mean. I was shown around all the kennels and play areas and I asked loads of questions. I watched the other dogs at play and they seemed just fine. Admittedly, it doesn't have the home comforts, but the kennels have underpaw heating and large grass runs (three ticks!).

I think it will be OK.