|You can see my problem...|
It’s been very windy and I’m think of getting these ears cropped in case I’m whisked off to join the migrating flocks heading south from the cliffs beside Durlston Castle. That’d give the twitchers a start and something to write about in their little notebooks. The staff take me on what they call ‘walks’ (they even spell it sometimes - sad gits). I’d rather refer to them a scent trails because, although the view doesn’t change much the smells are magic and change daily. You never know what your nose is going to describe and everything from foxes, cats, badgers, deer, mice and a unique log aggressive scent I can’t quite place but which haunts the dry stone walling above the light house. This last I instinctively know to avoid but I don’t know why. no doubt all will be revealed in due course when I finally set eyes on the scent’s owner. Hope I’m not alone because it doesn’t smell good. Other than that I get to meet the loveliest canines and their respective staff. There’s one black & white pointer who good fun and very polite. It’s probably the English in him. His staff member is always in a hurry so its just a brisk handshake and he’s off. I try and keep up but his legs are four times as long as mine so there’s not much point in chasing but I try anyway.
|Even in the wet I'm made sit!|
It’s interesting to meet new guys and gals each with their own particular character. I wonder sometimes what they think of me. I think these southerners think I’m a bit too familiar really. It’s probably the mix of Welsh and Mancunian that instils few social graces in my nature, that and my extreme youth. Everything is a game I think. Why be serious when you can bounce off folks. Not everyone appreciates my joie de vivre but do I care? No way Jose, life is too short and so am I.
Other than the cliff walks, the irritating of the grouchy pooches, the dead-heading the hydrangeas and the general mayhem and destruction life is pretty dull. There’s a trip in the tin box with the wheels which seems to go on forever and would be pretty much unbearable if it wasn’t for the whole new scent panorama at the end of it. Lovely herbivore pooh to inhale like there’s no tomorrow, quite tasty too some of it much to the staff’s disgust. Wide open downs to race across, mould smelling fungi which seem to spring out of the ground like jacks in the box and catch my eye easily cos they’re at my level. Unfortunately they don’t taste as good as they look but you can’t have everything. The lovely smelling pooh is laid by some enormous herbivores that seem to carry their staff on their backs and sweat a lot after their daily walks. Not sure what that’s all about but the salty sweat make them smell very tasty. Might have to drag one down and sample it one of these days. Might have to get a team together though, not sure I’m up to it alone. Funny, I have no idea where these grandiose plans come from but they seem to begin as a nagging ache at the back of my head. It’s bit like the leg cocking thing which is becoming more insistent. My current bladder emptying routine seems pretty efficient all in all but this subliminal urge to try it three legs is getting almost irresistible and I have no idea why. No doubt all will be revealed in due course.
I guess that’s enough of my blether for now and if anybody’s still reading my thoughts after eleven post you really need to get a life:) Talk to me I’ve lots to spare though how long that’ll last is moot. Every day one of the staff threatens to kill me for some perceived transgression. Me, I’m blissfully ignorant of all chastisement and I’m just enjoying life to the full. So folks be well, be happy and don’t let the turkeys get you down. Au revoir people. Laters…