Water Meter

Our lovely warm Spring sunshine has given way to haze and a chilly wind. Our walk is mildly delayed by Dad needing to wait for "A survey by Clancy DOCWRA of the water supply; in preparation for installation of a water meter". Dad has to be home by 4 and wait a man in a van.

We fear this will be one of those like the gas man visits where you are forced to sit in earshot of the front door for hours and like as not the guy doesn't show.

Let's hear it then for Clancy's. Their man was here at 3 minutes to 4 and the "survey" consisted of him opening the little metal cover in the pavement outside and declaring "Oh - you're already set up with the yoke for the meter..... I can fit it straight away". And he did. A bit of digging out of sediment round the "yoke", and all done in 10 minutes. These meters are even fitted with radio-frequency kit which means they can be read from a car passing in the street - doesn't even need to stop. The "survey" was in case they needed to dig up the pavement.

So we're done. It'll be interesting, says Dad, to see if the bills are any amount different.

So, within minutes, we're off to the Rec where we get a good run around with usual suspects Bugsy and Billy (the Bichons), and with Ben. Ben and I each have a tennis ball. Mine is clean, yellow and fluffy. Ben's is almost black, bald and covered in doggy gloop. Now please guess which one I prefer and end up with!

Finally a nice pic of a Crown-Imperial Lily in our garden - just to renmind us that it really is Spring

Deefer

The World and his Wife

It's "Finzi", as in Gerald Finzi - the black greyhound cross (lurcher?) we meet regularly and who belongs to Dad's allotment chum and musician. All you need to know is on....

http://www.geraldfinzi.org/

The World and his wife are out at the Rec this evening - not only Finzi, but we also have an enthusiastic greeting with Judy, the smooth coated Patterdale we met yesterday, a (new) little white Westie called Lottie (4), and almost inevitably Bugsy and Billy. Several more besides, too.

I am wondering if I'll get any Valentine cards. A girl can always hope (although Dad says that the way I'm feisty with all the boys, he'd be amazed if I do....). I hope, too, none of you lads have forgotten your ladies, canine or human. Dad, we know, is safe. He will probably survive through to at least tomorrow night, alive.

We are sad to hear that the Silverwood's old cat Socky has had to be put down. He generally steered clear when ever we visited, although we have met him (and knew to treat him with respect!). Our sympathies go to the Silverwoods. (How are the assorted dogs? How's Chance? How Sam? Dancer?) Do let us know.....

Dad has been to "Pets at Home" (Pets R Us) for dog food, so a chance to buy yet another yellow, hollow centred frisbee (My 4th) and is amazed and delighted that it survives tonight's first Rec throwing session without me chewing any "pinking shears" cuts into it.....

And so, it's the weekend. Have a good one, and I'll talk to you again soon.

Deefski (Young, free and single....)

Mugging Old Ladies

Our much loved Rec walking companion, rather portly JR "Patch" has a "mum" who always carries dog sweeties in her pocket. I have latched onto this and as soon as I spot her I race over and start bouncing around pleadingly on my hind legs. Dad calls this "Mugging old ladies" but the old girl doesn't seem to mind, and keeps giving them to me. It's called "positive reinforcement", I think.

We also meet black greyhound cross, owned by two of Dad's allotment-ish mates, who we think is called Finnsey, or possibly Finzi. Named after a composer, anyway, as the man is a musician and music lecturer, and if you Google "Finnsey" that, at least, is one composer who comes up. We will have to ask the guy.

As usual, too, we meet the Bichon pair, Bugsy (7) and Billy (1). They're never let off the lead, but their man has these enormous extending leads - must be 15m at least, so while Bugsy shouts almost continuously at his Dad to get a move on, Billy races in great arcs with me, chasing round and round to the limits of the leads, and frequently trying to bolas either me, a lamp-post, a human or two, Megan or Haggis, or occasionally himself, running and running till we are all breathing hard.

And finally, a new one to us - a smooth coated brown Patterdale Terrier. We didn't know they came smooth - the only Lakeland/Patterdales we know are, of course, our own "Rags" and his sister, the red allotment dog, "Fern". They are anything but smooth - real old shaggy wiry dogs, with great Denis Healey eyebrows, wispy chins and rock-and-roll haircuts. This dog, Judy (4) is dark brown with golder patches, and three white fronts-of-feet (just the toes really), plus a white blaze across her chest. She was lovely - very sociable and enjoyed a bit of a chat with we three, Bugsy and Billy.

It must be the lighter evenings - more dogs are conglomerating in the Rec now between end-of-work, and when it gets dark.

Deefski

Better off the Lead

Regular readers may know that I have taken against very few dogs that we meet, but that one such is a very dark, rather shaggy alsatian who gets walked in the Rec at dusk, and whom, if she looms out of the dark or mist at me, I can't resist charging. I shout and yell, and the alsatian kicks up a din back as I chase round the poor dog walker hanging onto the lead and the alsatian dances round in circles trying to get at me. It's a din that can be (and has been) heard the far side of the Rec.

Well, readers, let me teach you a humbling lesson in why a dog should not go by first impressions - or indeed a human (Dad has to hold his hand up to having thought dark thoughts and muttered mutterings about badly behaved unsociable dogs and owners who don't properly socialise their dogs when they are pups.......)

Tonight, it's a foggy evening but Dad (for the first time since before Christmas) is back in time to walk us our entire walk in daylight (all be it foggy), so we're in the Rec and I'm chasing the yellow frisbee, then a tennis ball, then having a chase about with collie cross Ben (I'm getting very muddy below the plimsoll line at this stage), and then the two Bichons we know - Billy and Bugsy.

Out of the mist looms the said dark shaggy alsatian, with owner, and I spot him, freeze, then charge. But the dog is off the lead, so she can lunge back at me, and there is a very brief shouting contest, but now she circles round and allows me to sniff her bum (like we do), and suddenly we three westies, and Ben, and the alsatian are all quiet and getting to know each other. I'm not saying we're all bestest mates, but we are in the same bit of Rec and not killing each other.

The bloke turns out to be nice and friendly, and comments that "There! I knew she'd be much better off the lead!" The dog we now know is Lucy, a Battersea Home rescue, who was 9 yesr old when the guy rescued her, and who he has now had for 2 years or so. Coming to him with "issues" she's been slow to socialise, hence he always has always walked her away from places and times when most people walk their dogs.

It also gives Dad a chance to apologise for my "attitude" (oh the shame!) and the humans agree that "There's always one! - These two (indicating Meggie and the H) are as chilled as anything and always have been, but Deefs here (indicating me), 2 years old and full of it!".

So, now we know the human and the dog and we are suitably humbled and apologetic for our intolerance.

Still reckon she needs telling!
Deefer

Bugsy and Billy

Out in the dark again we have a great run around with our Bichon Frisee friends Billy and (to a lesser extent) Bugsy. Billy is 1 year old and full of beans, and loves to chase around with me, while Bugs is 7 and prefers to stand looking up at his Dad, shouting with impatience to get moving again. Dad is in the Autumn of his years and starting to slow up, so he likes to sit on the Rec benches, not "getting moving again", so it can be a noisy group to meet up with!

Also, their Dad is frightened to let them off the lead, using instead very long versions of those extending leads, so Billy can swoop in great circles with other dogs, but keeps winding the lead-string round rubbish bins, prams, passers by and our own Dad's legs if he stands too close. Makes for some entertaining "Dad-dancing" as he hops over the string when it scythes across the scenery. Billy's Dad holds the handle sufficinetly high up that we dogs rarely get entangled.

Billy's Dad was, in his past, an ecologist; specifically a beetle-expert (Coleopterist). There's little he doesn't know about beetles in Kent, and in his past has been called on as expert witness in forensic evidence giving, or to make statements about the ecological importance of parcels of land for the EEC.

This got us thinking, about the interesting stories you could tell about the "ordinary" people we meet out walking. "Mick the Window Cleaner", for example, who owns westie Misha, and used to have Jack till recently (sadly passed away). He has worked a lot in Stockton on Tees and was a "wood technologist" researching new uses for wood and wood products. At one stage he was involved in inventing a metal-cored, wood skinned household door which became very popular as a blast-proof door in Belfast during the "Troubles"

Just goes to show....
Deefer

Bugsy

Tonight we're at the Rec, just missing a possible entertainment with a stunt-kite. We all love those things, and this was a big one - about 6 foot by 4. Sometimes on 2CV camp the guys get them out and buzz them around swooping low over us with the strings whirring menacingly in the wind, and we three westies charge about barking up at the sky trying to attack the kite. But sadly, as we got to the rec at about 4pm, it was just getting dark and the "pilot" decided to land it and put it away

We (I) chased the yellow frisbee instead, working our way up to the top of the Rec, where we nipped down between the tennis courts and the high bank. I heard someone at the top of the bank and raced up there woofing at a possible dog. I then turned tail and ran back down as fast as I could squealing in panic when an alsatian decided he'd take again' lil' white doggies charging up at him. He never got withing 3 feet, but you'd never know from the racket I was making, and Dad saying "Well - you started it!" before the 2 men pee'd themselves laughing! The nerve!

We ended up meeting Bugsy, a bichon who is often there. Dad likes chatting to Bugsy's Dad, but Bugs can be a bit of a yapper, especially when being "ignored" by his Dad, so it never goes on too long, and we were soon back to the frisbee throwing.

Have a good weekend
Deefs