We’ve been out and about, mostly to our favourite dog walking place along the sea front promenade at Waterloo. We usually walk up along the wide stretch of grass behind the ever changing dunes, then walk back down in front of the dunes along the concreted promenade above the beach.
All domestic dogs bark – wild dogs, as a rule do not.
Why domesticated dogs should do so is open to speculation, but one suggestion is that they are trying to imitate human speech.
How we transcribe the sounds dogs make varies from country to country. In the UK the bark is often written as “bow-wow” or “woof-woof.” The Spanish hear “guau-guau”; Swedish dogs go “Voff-voff” and in Finland dogs say “Hau-Hau.” And if Tintin’s Snowy is typical then Belgian dogs go “wooah-wooah.”
One thing all nations seem to be agreed on is that dogs never emit a single bark.
Some days you just gotta let rip. . . .
and have a good bark..
yep, that feels sooo good
My Boy – Max – 9 years old today. He has been a member of my pack for nearly 8 years.
As Heidi cannot manage long walks, the boy and I have an occasional boys only day out.
This morning we had a ramble across the field to the next village.
This took us to one of the sources of the River Nene.
H.E. Bates reckoned the name of the river was a distortion of the word Nine – indicating the number of sources that fed into it.
The rooks assemble every evening in the trees round the village green then they fly off before dusk. I’ve often wondered where they go to. Could this be their rookery?
Passing fields of rapeseed and through gaps in the hedge . . .
before retracing our steps back to the village
and home once more