I promised this a couple of blogs back and got side-tracked. oops.
So. If you don't like talking to people DON'T get a dog.
They're ice-breakers. In the park, on the Ridgeway, round the Folly, in the car-park with spotty dog in the back of the car, walking to the shops, or on any of the innumerable walks and holidays we go on with Roly, people stop and talk to us. And, if we've left him at home, they don't. Unless they know us and then they ask 'Where's Roly?'.
Now, I'm not backwards when it comes to talking to people, but having Roly is the perfect entre. A cheery 'good morning' as you pass from opposite directions, a hurried 'sorry' if he's pestering someone/some dog, or scrounging from a picnic/child, or a full blown apology from other dog owners if their dog's taken a dislike to Roly. As if.
No, actually there are a couple of dogs (naming no names, you know who you are..) who take exception to our handsome dalmation. I'm sure it's jealousy.... The little yappy one in town, and the rescue king charles who always has a go. The owners are always very apologetic, and if at all possible they'll take avoiding action before any embarassing behaviour by their dogs. But when taken by surprise I'm always keen to smooth their feathers/anxiety, and Roly's usually taken a step or two back. Not that he's scared, normally just puzzled, a sort of 'Why wouldn't you be my friend??' sort of thing. I mean you sniffed my bum, so can't I now sniff yours??? sort of thing.
So you get to exercise yourself. Daily. Come rain, shine, snow, sleet, wind, and/or all together (this morning!!). Obviously, you're doing it for the dog, but the fringe benefit is yours. Fresh air, lots of. Different, interesting locations - this is up to you! Changing scenery - the great outdoors is the best picture show and costs nothing. Changing sounds. And the regular conversation with other dog-walkers who you get to know.
Actually on the sounds front, I thought they were re-shooting Apocalypse Now yesterday. The omninous sound of helicopter engines had me stopped a couple of times, trying to pinpoint which direction they were coming from, over the brow of Folly Hill. As I dropped down towards the A420, they made their appearance and I thought over and done with, but no, they flew a wide arc and then, for whatever reason, appeared to be trying to catch a thermal as they circled one another, gradually gaining height, until as I'd walked on they got higher they disappeared into a cloud. I half expected to hear The Ride of the Valkeryies (sp?) blasting out!! Now there's a memorable scene from a film. Visceral. Gives me goose bumps now just thinking about it... but I digress.
I stopped one morning last week to listen to birdsong. I managed to separate out the mistle thrush, as I'd spotted him in the tree - no leaves still, so if they're at a reasonable height, then identification is pretty much OK. And, when it's helicopter free, the birds make a lovely soundtrack to the dog-walk. I've also noticed that the blackthorn blossom is now out, and I think the hawthorn has some leaves sprouting at the bottom of the hill.
There's a sort of dogwalkers conversation etiquette. If your dogs have stopped to have a sniff, then as their owners you kind of feel obliged to do the same - have a chat, not sniff!! It can be brief, or longer, as the mood takes you, and I've found other owners are usually very pleased to tell you everything (you maybe didn't want to know) about their dog. But, you can pick up tips. Anything from which vet charges too much, to have you tried your dog on cod-liver oil? And you pick up local gossip/interest/opinion. And if your dogs meet regularly, as often they do, you will eventually learn that Alfie's mum and dad are called Karen and Dave, and so on. For many months you will refer to the owners as Major's mum, Ben's mum or Lusaka's dad. You find out why the dogs are called what they are. And there's plenty to talk about on that one. Much as why did you call your child Phoebe?
And you get to see interesting things.
If I didn't have a dog to walk, a couple of years ago, I'd have missed the man ferreting the rabbits at the Folly. I was fascinated, never having seen it in real life, so I stopped to chat with him. Seems he'd a contract to clear the warren as they wanted to do new planting, and the rabbits would have ruined the improvements. Apparently he'd received some verbal abuse along the lines of 'f***ing bunny murderer', and he was intrigued to learn that I supported what he was doing, although I'd volunteered that I was vegetarian...
As we spoke, he collected the chased rabbit from the netting, and warned Roly to stay away, as the next thing out of the hole was the ferret - swiftly captured by the man's father, also on hand for the job. As the conversation progressed, he carefully de-netted the rabbit, and, without skipping a beat, had calmly wrung its neck, quick as you like. It seemed a speedy and humane way for the rabbit to be despatched. I asked him what he did with the carcasses, and he said there was a game dealer who'd take them from him. I asked him how many he'd caught. He said he'd just finished the contract, and had had 500 rabbits in 3 weeks. I thanked him for the chat, and bid him farewell. Later that week I spotted fresh rabbits hanging in the butchers window in Faringdon, £4 each. Country pursuits in harmony with the countryside. Strong opinions from a non-meat eater!
I doubt that Roly's quick enough for a rabbit, but I know he can catch a rat. I've seen him. Three times. And I'll tell you about that next time!
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| Through the trees, towards the Vale |
Thanks for reading! Keep it sweet. Kat :)
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