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
Let Max do all the running . . .
I have added a new page to my blog. You can click on the link here – Rosie’s Walk
Rosie’s Walk was the title of a delightful picture book about the adventures of a hen called Rosie who, unknown to her and, by implication the adult readers of the book, escaped the clutches of a hungry fox several times on her walk. The great joy for the child being read this story was the text was oblivious to the tale told by the images.
Rosie, my Rosie, had an adventurous life and she loved walks and meeting people and was quite obliviously fearless at times. During our first visit to Friars Crag she leapt down onto the rocks below the path and was lost to sight for a while as I figure how I was going to scramble down to fetch her, only to see her running up the other side and charming the strangers on a nearby bench.
It is nearly a year since we took our last walk together and this page is dedicated to her memory and for the great times we shared.
I have added a new page to my blog.
It is to be a record of the health and wellbeing of my beloved Max
Max is a lively 8 year old sheltie and has been part of the family since he was a little over a year old. He was born only 5 days after my other dog – Hoppalong Heidi, and they are well matched. Protective when out he is a passive victim to Little Miss Hoppy’s bullyings as she chases him round the house, hanging on to his tail and pulling out clumps of his fur. Their love for one another is evident in the diligence with which she licks and grooms him, but only after a bout of mouth wrestling. Other dog owners will know all about that.
Earlier this year Max was sitting by my side when he suddenly began convulsing. He was struggling to get up, his eyes seemed to be struggling to focus and he was panting and drooling a lot. He never lost conscious and it was all over in less than a minute. He seemed to recover from it relatively quickly. I had a friend who used to have severe epileptic fits and this seemed familiar so I just responded in the same way as I did when my friend was fitting. I kept him quiet, spoke gently throughout, counted the seconds to test the severity and observed the recovery.
A check up at the vets the next day set my mind at rest. They did not want to take any further investigation but asked me to monitor Max’s health and if the fits increased in length, intensity or frequency then return and they will probe further. That was in March this year.
Two nights ago he had another fit.
Once again, I did all I needed to do to comfort and monitor him. He seemed more aware of what was happening and wanted to get close to me. He stood on me (I was lying on the floor beside him) and was wagging his tail but still drooling as he was fitting. I counted the seconds. Still less than a minute. Which is good. More than that and he is to go to the vets the next day. Much more than that and its straight to the emergency vets.
I have decided to create a page here for Max to help me monitor the frequency and severity of his fits. They are bound to recur, it’s just a case of keeping an eye on him and keeping an accurate record. So while Max’s condition remains low key and manageable I shall continue to keep an eye on him and avoid any unnecessary medication or distressing veterinarian hospitalisation. In the meantime – let’s play “fetch”