Chips With Everything

I may have mentioned this once or twice, but I have what I like to describe as a healthy appetite. (That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.) I’m a growing girl. I need to keep my strength up for my hectic daily routine of lying on the windowsill, nosing at the passers-by. A few weeks ago Kath told me, ‘anybody would think you’re deprived of food.’ I didn’t think that was fair at all.

Admittedly, if anyone opens a packet of crisps within a hundred-metre radius, I’m there like a shot. I don’t see why everybody thinks that’s a problem. Roman Emperors and great monarchs of history employed official food tasters. I see myself as performing an equally important role in society. Nobody would criticise a human who took a job as a Food Safety and Quality Control Examiner, would they? I just owe it to my friends to make sure everything is fit for consumption.

I’m always interested in learning new things, as well. I was merely taking an educated interest in Dai’s culinary skills while he was preparing some chicken one afternoon. Watching TV cookery programmes is one thing, but you don’t get to savour those mouth-watering aromas unless you’re sitting a foot or so from the kitchen worktop.

However, I can’t deny that I love my grub (and other people’s grub, come to that!) Is it any surprise that my ears pricked up when I heard Steve and Kath discussing ‘free chips for dogs’ about a while ago? I also heard him mention the words ‘train’ and ‘ramble.’ That sounded like a fine plan to me – another trip on the train, followed by exploring for a while, and a plate of chips at the end of it. I was in!

It all turned out to be a clever subterfuge to mislead me. I did get a train ride out of it, mind you. We got off the train a few stops down the line and met Steve’s friend Martin at the station. He hasn’t been well lately, and we’d decided that a nice walk, a breath of fresh air, and some early spring sunshine would do us all good. The sunshine didn’t materialise until late in the day, until we’d gone our separate ways. Even so, Steve and Martin knew of a great Ramble along the riverbank, so we took full advantage of it.

We hadn’t gone far when I bumped into a Sharpei. I don’t think any of us had come across one before. He was an odd-looking character, but really laid-back and cool. As well as him, I met a lively Spaniel, a bouncy pup who looked part Greyhound, a tiny Pug pup, and a sheepdog. All in all it seems like a good place to make new friends.

My suspicions were roused when I wasn’t allowed to play Stick in the river. I recognised one nice swimming spot from my previous Ramble with Steve and Martin, a week or so earlier. Last time we were there we played for a while, and got some nice photos.

Usually Steve lets me dive in and get nicely soaked without a second thought. This time, he called me back when I was lurking at the water’s edge. I knew then that something was up. I followed the boys as they walked along the path, finding interesting bits of grass to investigate and nice sticks to chew on the way. The birdsong is a lot more noticeable now, and the trees are coming back to life as well. It’ll be nice to get the winter out of the way and have some proper Rambling weather at last.

We carried on along the path to a stone bridge, and I realised where we were. It was the bridge I’d been ice-skating on the first time we came down to this part of the valley. We’d approached it from the other side, and the stream underneath wasn’t frozen any more. I couldn’t resist a sneaky paddle while the boys were chatting, and I don’t think they noticed. A bit further on we came to a metal bridge across the river, leading over to the village. I recognised that as well, but we didn’t stop there. Instead, we carried on following the river downstream until temptation got the better of me and I went for a paddle. I didn’t get too wet, but I just wanted to have a little splash around.

There was another bridge further along, and I wasn’t sure about crossing it at first. It was made of metal steps, and reminded me a bit of the stairs to the flat above the pub. I was never too keen on climbing that (usually because it meant I’d been sent to bed), but Steve encouraged me to make my way up anyway. At least I wasn’t in the doghouse this time.

When I got to the other side I knew where we were. The first time we came here I found a piece of cold pizza on the pavement. By the time I’d munched it we managed to miss the train. It was about this time last year, come to think of it. We’ve been here a few times now, but I was still wondering why we’d come here today of all days. There’s a little slope leading up to the main street, where there are a few shops and a big old building on a corner. It turned out to be our destination. Steve and Martin looked inside, and spotted a lady with a dog in one of the rooms.

‘This is it,’ Steve said, and we made our way inside. There were a couple of other dogs in the room already, and a couple of people sitting at a table at one end. For an awful moment I thought Kath had cunningly signed me up for obedience classes. I couldn’t think why else everyone had been so secretive about the whole business.

Martin kept an eye on me while Steve filled in some paperwork at one of the tables. Now I was really nervous. It crossed my mind for a moment that Kath and Jess had decided to sell me! I know I can be a nuisance sometimes, but I’ve never been really, really naughty. Even so, I had visions of being bundled into a plain van and taken away to who-knows-where.

I felt a bit happier when the little terrier ahead of me came away, still with his human, and went out into the street. Then one of the ladies called my name and Steve took me up to the front of the room. At this point I lost my composure entirely, and started tangling myself up around Steve’s legs while he tried to hold me still. I was having a weird flashback to the Vet’s surgery. I wasn’t far off the mark, as it turned out. One of the ladies held me by the scruff of my neck and I felt a little jab. I was a brave girl, though – I didn’t yelp or make a fuss. I was very disappointed when the promised plate of chips didn’t arrive. After all, Steve got biscuits and a drink when he gave blood. I wanted my reward as well. It wasn’t to be, though. He collected his copy of his paperwork, thanked the people, and we left without my being any the wiser.

Once we were back outside, we walked along the main road before dropping down to the river bridge and crossing back to the path. I was still puzzling over what the lady in the room had done to me. I’ve had all my injections, and I’m not ill. Then I realised what Steve and Kath had meant when they talked about ‘free chips.’

I’ve been given the Mark of the Beast! (Steve calls me ‘the Beast’ half the time anyway, so it seems appropriate.) If I ever go walkabout, anyone who finds me can look up Jess’s details and take me back home. I know it sounds like a good idea, but it’s going to spoil my fun good and proper!

We walked back into town along the path, where I met a couple of Jack Russells. One of them was a bit unfriendly, but I had great fun racing the other one through the long grass beside the path. I’d had a swim as well by now, so I was definitely none the worse for having a foreign body implanted into me. In fact, I felt a bit like a spy. The more I thought about, the cooler it seemed. I’m Stella the Bionic Dog.

Martin caught the train back with us, and we walked through town until we parted company by the library. Steve’s not sure whether my pub ban has been lifted yet, so we decided not to chance it. He dropped me off at home, and warned Jess that I shouldn’t have a bath for a couple of days, so that my puncture wound could heal up. That was an unexpected bonus, fair play. I retired to my blanky and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening resting up.

I might not have given blood, but I’d had an injection. I didn’t want to exert myself too much. And in spite of not having a free lunch, all of us who turned up there had well and truly had our chips.

The North Wind Did Blow…

On the Thursday before last, I got rather excited at the sight of snowflakes, which caught my eye through the window. We haven’t had anything this winter so far, apart from torrential rain which kept me in for days on end. It was a refreshing change.

Dai and Jess took me out on Friday morning, up towards the horses’ field, and I had a good time playing in the snow. There’s nothing like it when it’s fresh and untouched, just ripe for my pawprints. Even though I’d had one walk, I hoped Steve would be able to take me out as well. I wondered whether he’d risk walking on the slippery surface in case he fell over and hurt his back again. By the afternoon, the village was under a white blanket. I had an uneasy feeling that I’d be stuck in for the rest of the day. I was lying on the windowsill, watching people trudging past with bags of shopping, when I spotted Steve heading in my direction. That made my day! Dai and Jess must have known he was coming, as I was harnessed up and all set to go when he knocked the door.

We headed along the main road, crossed by the roundabout, and onto the path leading to my favourite secluded swimming spot. I had fun nosing around in the snow, and kicking up little puffs of flakes as I ran through the deepest bits. We hadn’t gone very far when a black and white sheepdog came up to me. I thought I recognised him, and it turned out that I was right. Steve started chatting to his owner, and I remembered where we’d met before. Muddy lives with Steve’s friends Jonathan and Debbie, further along my street. He was out with Jonathan, his brother, and Jonathan’s young son Emrys. The first time we met, Muddy was barking at me from behind the garden gate. I thought he was a bit unfriendly, but he was just looking after their house. I’d probably have done the same thing. Now that he was out and about, he was really nice, and we had a great time racing each other along the path.

The only problem with deep snow is that it covers up all the fallen Sticks. Muddy and I searched around for a while, but there wasn’t a decent one to be had anywhere. However, I’m clever and resourceful, so I decided to make my own. I spotted a young tree growing on the bank beside the path, and after a couple of attempts I managed to break off a nice long branch. Fallen snow showered all over us as Muddy and I tussled over it. Jonathan took some good photos of us while we messed around, and emailed them to Steve later on. It was a nice change to go out and meet someone whose name actually was Mud.

We walked past the cottages and got to the big house before Emrys decided he wanted to go back. The slope to my swimming place would have been far too dangerous for Steve to tackle. We were debating the next part of the walk when another Black Labrador charged over the bridge by the big house and ran up to us. She was out with Donna, another of Steve’s friends, and her two daughters. Emrys and the girls were all out that afternoon because the snow had closed the schools. Lucky for them, I say. I was much happier playing in the fresh snow than sitting indoors. It’s always good to make new friends, and they made a big fuss of me. Betty, their dog, and I could have easily swapped places. Have a look at this photo and see what you think.

They walked on while Steve was saying goodbye to the boys, and we caught up with them a few minutes later. Our two little groups must have been the first walkers into the big field, as the snow was practically untouched. The first thing I saw was the younger girl lying on her back. I was immediately concerned that she might be hurt, so I sprinted over to see if she was okay. My bad. I’d never heard of making ‘Snow Angels’ before. (I’d never heard of ‘photobombing’ either, but apparently that’s exactly what I did.) Everybody laughed, and we teamed up to walk the perimeter of the field together. There were no Sticks to be found, but there were big piles of snow to rummage around in. I buried my face so deep in one patch that when I looked up, my entire head was white. Betty and I had a nice roll around in the snow as well. I might have missed out on my regular swim, but I had no intention of going home with a dry coat.

We got back to the path and parted company, with Betty and the girls heading home again. We headed up to the steps leading to the main road, crossed the remarkably light traffic, and descended to the old track running through the cemetery. There were a few sets of footprints here and there, but for the most part the snow was undisturbed. (Until I got to it, anyway.) The snow had fallen so suddenly and heavily that the trees were bent under its weight. Steve and I found a fantastic arch where one sturdy branch had curved right over the path.

We made our way back towards the village and rejoined the main road. There was so little traffic around that I didn’t even need to go on the lead. I hoped Steve might take me into his friends’ pub to have a breather and warm up a bit. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to put his wallet in his pocket, so we were out of luck. We headed back home and I crashed out on the settee under my comfy blanket. Two walks in one day had proved a bit much for me.

To my surprise Steve came round again on Saturday. The snow had stopped, and it was nice and crunchy underpaw. We walked down the tramroad to the river, and I decided to see whether the water was frozen. It wasn’t – but I soon regretted diving in. It was bitterly cold, and I ran straight back onto the shore. Steve was laughing, so I decided there was no reason for me to be the only one who was wet and cold. A quick shake-dry later, we were in the same boat. Revenge is so sweet.

We made our way into our field and played Sneak for a while. It was the best game ever, as we both kept losing the Stick as it buried itself in the snow. After we (i.e. Steve) lost it entirely, we carried on along the path until we reached the bridge. Steve took some photos as we walked along, in between quick one-off Chucks of Sticks he found. Given all the cloud cover, he hasn’t had to convert them to black and white. He even managed to get a couple of decent ones of me.

We walked back onto the main road, then crossed the village and went home again. Steve stayed around for a while, as he wanted to borrow Kath’s laptop for a few minutes. I occasionally offered my own inimitable Tech Support as he worked at the kitchen table. Then Kath got my blanket out and I had to make a choice: sit and watch Steve typing an email, or crash out in front of the TV. It was a no-brainer, really. The kitchen floor isn’t very comfy. The settee is.

Thursday afternoon was beautiful with bright sunshine, so Steve and I headed out yet again. We strolled down the line as usual, and I was reassured to know that the river was as cold as it had been all week. I didn’t stay in the water long, but charged straight into the field and set myself up for a game of Sneak. We were more successful this time, as the snow had begun to thaw. I won paws down, of course, as Steve can’t bend down quickly enough to grab the Stick before I get to it. He must have spent about twenty minutes walking the length and breadth of the field, while I was kicking up flurries of snow and leaping over little furrows in the ground. His doctor has told him that walking is good therapy for his back problem. I’m always happy to accompany him, and we both benefit from fresh air and exercise. Apparently Steve’s friend Shanara asked him a couple of weeks ago what ‘symbiosis’ meant. I think we’ve arrived at our own special interpretation of it – two creatures of different species working together for mutual gain. If we can both have tremendous fun as well, all the better.

I hadn’t realised how rapid the thaw was until I stopped under a tree to make some yellow snow. As I squatted down, a pile of snow crashed off a branch, fragmented on the way down, and showered all over my head. It would have made a fantastic video clip, if only we’d been prepared for it.

We walked the length of the path and came out in town. For once Steve didn’t bother going into the shops. Instead, we walked up the lane to the nice warm pub. He asked a couple of his pals to look after me while he nipped inside, and I made friends with them until he came out a couple of minutes later. He’d only gone in to pick up a small parcel which he’d had delivered there, instead of waiting for our postman to come. Gabby told him that he could bring me inside, but Steve decided not to risk it. It seems that my mischievous incident with the firewood, a year or so ago, is still a blot on my otherwise spotless reputation. There was some talk on the TV news last night of reforming the criminal records checking procedures. The sooner the better, I say.

On Saturday, we had a proper Ramble for the first time in ages. It turned out to be a bit of a damp squib, as we’d gone on the wrong day, but we had fun anyway. As soon as we left the house, I went sliding down a huge sheet of ice in the side street. Steve said I was like Bambi, trying to get my legs to work while I shot downhill. We decided to take another route through the village, and it turned out to be a good thing we did. As we were passing the school, I spotted something that made me really worried. An elderly chap crossing the car park of the theatre slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on his back. I ran off immediately in his direction, and Steve followed me. When he got to us, I was standing guard over the unfortunate victim, whining and keeping an eye on him. Steve tried to lift the old chap up, but his back wouldn’t let him take his full weight. Luckily for us, a lady was walking her dog through the car park, and between them they managed to get him on his feet. Steve and I accompanied him back to his house, to make sure he was okay, and then went on our way. That was my Good Deed for the Day (or maybe the Month.) In less than five minutes I’d gone from Bambi to Lassie.

Of course, this little detour meant that we’d missed the train, so we had time to kill in town. It was fortunate in a way, because Steve had to call into the pub again. He had a book for one of his friends, so we went in through the front door. Gabby was behind the bar, and Geoff said ‘hello’ as we walked in. I was amazed he remembered me. Steve dropped the book off at the bar but we didn’t stay for a drink. The fire looked really tempting, though, especially on an icy morning. Instead, we went for a walk around town until the next train arrived. Steve sat on one of the new seats in the main street, and I accosted Jess’s friend Lucy when she walked past. Then Leighton came along and made a fuss of me. I’m spoiled rotten, really, when I think about it.

We caught the train and I met a nice elderly couple who have a Golden Retriever. They chatted to Steve for a while, then I made friends with some teenage boys sitting across the aisle from us. We weren’t on the train very long, and when we left the station I realised where we were. The last time we were there was about a year ago, during the really big freeze. That time, it was dark. This time, it was broad daylight and the sun was out. I won’t let on yet why we’d gone there, but it turned out to be a wasted trip anyway. Either Steve had got the date wrong, or our local rag had got the date wrong. Steve reads it regularly and said that, on the balance of probabilities, it was the paper’s mistake. He’s going to double-check the article when he goes to the library. Either way, we’re going back down in another month. I don’t mind. I’m always up for fun.

Steve let me explore while he took some photos, and I was really well-behaved. I wasn’t even tempted to wander off without his say-so, and nosed around in the recycling bags on the pavement for a while. There was nothing to eat, unlike our last visit, when I found a piece of cold pizza in the lane leading to the station. Steve gave me a mild telling-off for scrounging. That wasn’t fair. I bet he’d had breakfast!

We went down a side street to a bridge across the river. I really fancied a swim by that time, but there was a fence between me and the river. Instead, we went for a walk down the path along the riverbank, and came to a strange little bridge in the middle of a field.

Steve decided that a game of Stick was in order, and managed to dislodge one from a piece of ice. It was great fun. Ice Stick definitely has to be the way forward, even though it takes a bit of practice at first. The season would be rather short, and the playing surfaces can be unpredictable, but I think the idea’s got legs. (Randomly-placed and somewhat uncontrollable legs, but legs nonetheless.)

We reached a point where the path was totally impassable, so we turned back. A chap and his dog were heading the way we’d come. Steve advised the man to go as far as the bridge but no further. The dog was really nice, and we had a bit of a wrestle in the snow until we went our separate ways. We walked back into the village, carried on along the main road, and dropped down into the town centre. It was starting to rain, so we decided to seek refuge indoors. I was back on the lead by now, because the traffic was busy again, but I didn’t mind. I met a nice little puppy outside one of the shops, and took a fancy to the window display in the butcher’s shop. It was definitely lunchtime.

We walked the length of the town centre and looked into a big old pub, which is run by Steve’s friends Anthony and Claire. Unfortunately, they don’t allow dogs in. (Or, possibly, Gabby had put a BOLO out with my description, and a warning that I was out for a Ramble.) A bit disappointed, we walked back to the station and realised that we’d missed the train (again!) We crossed over the bridge, walked down towards the river, crossed another very icy bridge, and sat outside a pub chatting to one of Steve’s friends while he had a can of Coke. Steve was amused by the fact that the pub had a sign behind the bar, listing the exceptions to the regular train timetable. Maybe he should copy it out next time we’re there and keep it in his wallet.

We saw the train coming in, so we made our way back to the station and jumped on board. I was starting to feel tired, so I curled up under the table and had a five minutes’ nap until we got to town again. Steve did a bit of shopping and we bumped into some of his friends while we were walking through town. I investigated some more recycling bags, and found a cheese and onion sandwich which someone hadn’t finished. It wasn’t much, but it filled a gap. Our last stop was at the supermarket on the way home. I had to wait outside as usual, and Steve finally worked out why I don’t like sitting there. It’s obvious, really. I like to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get lost. The shops in town are okay, as I can see him through the windows, but I can’t see inside the supermarket. It’s my Separation Anxiety rearing its head again.

We got home and found that we’d been out for nearly four hours. By now I was getting my second wind, but Jess mentioned ‘dinner’ and ‘blanket’, and I decided that a four-hour Ramble was plenty for one day. Steve explained the mix-up over dates, and told Jess that we’d have to go back down in a few weeks’ time. I’m ready when he is.

By Saturday evening it was pouring with rain again. We had a few rumbles of thunder as well. The rain didn’t really ease up until this morning, so I think we’ve seen the last of the snow for this month. Never mind. We made the most of it while it lasted, Steve got some good photos, and I made some new friends when were out and about. That’s plenty for one week, isn’t it?

FORWARD

The Apprentice

I’ve seen more of Steve this week that I have since Xmas. I think I made him feel guilty after my last post, as he called round out of the blue on Saturday. I forgot about his back trouble and charged at him down the passage, almost knocking him back down the steps.

‘Oh, you’ve missed me, have you?’ he said, as I ran back indoors and fetched my harness. Have I missed him? Do I poo in the woods?

We were heading along the path when we bumped into Steve’s friends Gabby and Nathan. I was fairly wet from my tentative swim at the bottom of the hill. I hadn’t managed to get as muddy as I’d have liked, but it was a start. Anyway, I took an instant fancy to Gabby’s coat. Puppy pawprints are the ‘in look’ this winter (in my mind, anyway.) I thought her coat could do with a bit of my personalised treatment. Instead, everyone shouted at me, so I decided to just wag my tail and be nice for a minute until they’d gone past.

Steve and I crossed the iron bridge and went down to the river’s edge. It was flowing fairly gently, so it was a good opportunity to get a bit of Stick practice in. Steve rather unkindly pointed out that I’ve put on weight over Xmas. What does he expect? We went from going out every day, for at least an hour, to a stroll a couple of times a month if I was lucky. And I am the canine equivalent of Mr Creosote, remember. It would have taken only one wafer-thin mint for this blog to have come to a sudden and very messy end.

When we got to the railway line I noticed something rather odd. I couldn’t squeeze under the gate. I began to wonder whether Steve’s comments about my weight gain were more than just badinage. I backed up a bit, and then we noticed that the gates were brand new. The old, rusty gates which used to guard the entrance to the crossing had been replaced by shiny ones which reached nearly to the ground. We saw the engineers there last summer. We’re both wondering whether the new gates are more preparatory work for the new trains. Paws crossed!

We didn’t have time for a game of Sneak, as Steve had things to do in town. I noticed him picking up a stick, though, and invoked the still-debatable Flattening Rule. With muddy pawprints all over his jeans, he looked the height of Stella Artois Moses fashion!

We carried on into town and we decided to visit some of our friends. Barbara’s shop was busy, so we just said ‘hello’ without calling in. Sharon wasn’t working, so we didn’t stay there either. It was almost as though an alert had been sent out, that I was back on the prowl. I sat obediently (i.e. bored) by the cashpoint while he waited to use it. We didn’t find out until we got home that Hilda (Kath’s mother) had spotted us there. The whole family has me under surveilance. As if I’d get up to no good…

We walked back up through Trecynon, and by the time we got home Hilda, Jess, Dai, and Matthew were there as well. Kath asked Steve if he could help her out with her new laptop. I’m always keen to learn, so I sat next to him and watched while he sorted the problem out. I can just about type this blog on my own. I’ve got a lot further to go.

On Sunday, Steve came around again in response to another IT SOS. This time, Kath hadn’t even got home, so I persuaded him to take me out in the meantime. We met loads of new friends on the way, and we even fitted in a game of Sneak before it got too dark. When we got back, Kath was home, and I spent another half an hour shadowing Steve as he did his Tech Support magic. He said that I could be his apprentice, as I’m so good and so intelligent that I’m a pleasure to work with.

I didn’t see him on Monday, as he’d decided to donate blood. I don’t know exactly what that means, but it seems to involve a lot of eating and drinking, a lie-down, followed by more eating and drinking, then resting all evening. Where do I sign up?

Tuesday we were back on track, because Kath needed more Tech Support. Steve came round as it was getting dark and sorted the computer out before we set off. Our first stop was his house, but we weren’t even there long enough for him to open the fridge. He just set the printer going and we went for a stroll.

We haven’t been out in the dark for a while, and it’s great fun. He had his clockwork torch with him – or, as I call it ‘the wind-up torch’, because he uses it to wind me up. I was chasing the beam of light all over the place, and nearly knocked over a young lad who was coming the other way. We hadn’t seen him and he hadn’t seen us. We went up to the main road and I waited patiently outside the supermarket while Steve went in. He came out empty-handed (as far as I was concerned.) However, I don’t remember making any New Year Resolutions about diet and exercise. Maybe’s he’s been granted Power of Attorney. I don’t know.

We had to call into Steve’s friends’ house to pick up his Netbook. I waited outside, because they’ve got a dog and two cats, and we’d have unleased chaos if we’d got together. The dog came out to see me, though. He seems like fun. Maybe we should arrange a playdate some time.

We went back to Steve’s to pick up the printing for Kath. On the way, I shot out of the side street in front of a young lad on a scooter. He and his friends all thought it was hilarious. The one job was taking ages, so I took the opportunity to explore Steve’s house while we waited for it to finish. He’s got loads of interesting stuff, but I wish he’d clear some of it off the chair so I can curl up on it. Finally the last page emerged from the printer and we were able to go back to my place.

He came round again this morning and I was delighted to see him, as always. Dave had worked last night, so he was catching up on some sleep. Everyone else was out, so Steve let himself in with the spare key. It had snowed overnight, and the fine white flakes were still falling as we walked through the side streets. We headed straight onto the tramroad and I had great fun crashing into the little piles of snow which had gathered. We played Stick for a while as well, before I decided to try and make my own. Steve stood and laughed as I snapped several branches off a tree, before I got one that was just right. Naturally, I didn’t give it to him. He even asked me how such an intelligent dog can be so thick on times. I think it’s nurture rather than nature, as you’ll see.

We crossed the bridge over the road, headed into the village, and walked past the pub. They were cooking lunch and it smelt really delicious. I felt like a canine Bisto Kid passing the window. Then we crossed the bridge over the river and I decided to go for a swim. Talk about cold! If I’d been born male, Kath could have saved a fortune on vet’s fees! They’d have just come off in the water, I think.

We delayed our game of Sneak as the freight train was coming past the end of the path. Now that I’ve seen it close up, I’m really glad they’ve replaced the gates. I wouldn’t want to tangle with it. Steve was annoyed, because (for once) he didn’t have his camera with him. Still, we went into the field and had a good game of Sneak in the Snow. I don’t think it’ll ever feature in the Winter Olympics, but it blew the cobwebs away nicely.

On the way home we met Steve’s friend Pauline and her little three-legged dog. In spite of its disability, it’s playful and friendly – a good example to some humans, I think. Then we got back to my place. The car was parked outside, and when Kath opened the door she looked quite relieved to see us. Apparently she and Jess had gone out without their keys (that’s nothing new!) and Steve had accidentally locked them out! They’d been on the verge of ringing Steve when Dave came downstairs and let them in.

We went in and Kath gave Steve a bag of wires that she’d found in the car. Steve picked his way through them and identified them one by one. One was the cable to connect Jess’s camera to the computer, which she’d lost ages ago. Steve reminded her that she could have plugged the memory card straight in, and she and Kath just looked at each other. I looked at them as well. I’ve got a feeling that, in spite of appearances, we might all be naturally blonde in the head.

The forecast is for more snow tonight, so with luck I’ll have an illustrated Ramble for you next time. Wrap up warm, folks!

FORWARD

A Pain in the Backside

I haven’t seen Steve at all this year. The last time we went for a Stroll was on Christmas Eve, when he called round for me in the morning. Helen’s moved, so we went on an expedition to drop her present off. First of all, of course, I had to have a good run around in the back lanes around my house. Usually, Jess and Dai only take me around the block, or down to the field at the end of the street. It’s not nearly enough for me. It’s like owning a Ferrari and just tootling as far as the corner shop. I’m full of beans and raring to go all day.

Anyway, on Christmas Eve I spotted Steve as he came around the corner. I plant myself on the window sill every morning, in the hope that he’ll come round. I know his back has been giving him trouble for ages, but on Christmas Eve I spotted him heading my way. It’s a wonder we didn’t both end up at the Orthopaedic Unit in Cardiff. I hurled myself backwards off the window sill, crashed onto the laminate flooring, and tried to open the front door (which opens inwards) with my head. Not my brightest idea ever.

Steve told me we were heading to Helen’s new place, but first of all I needed to really blow off all the excess steam I’d built up over the previous couple of weeks. He took me onto the old railway track which runs through the middle of the cemetery and let me go.

I piled off straightaway and found the biggest, muddiest, most disgusting puddle I’ve ever seen in my life. Steve must have read my mind, because he shouted, ‘Don’t you even dare!’ Foolish talk! I plunged straight in, slid around for a few seconds, had a decent splash about, and ran straight towards him. I don’t know why, but every time Steve washes his skinny jeans, I feel this insane urge to plant muddy footprints all over him. I think it might be a deep-seated psychiatric instability. Anyway, Steve side-stepped me, slipped on some wet grass, and went down like the proverbial sack.

I didn’t think anything of it at first. In fact, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a puddle, decided I wasn’t anywhere near filthy enough, and went back for a second take. Once I looked like the Swamp Thing, I ran back over to Steve. I realised then that all was not well. He was hobbling down the line while I was playing about.

I’d almost forgotten about Steve’s back problem until he took a tumble. I felt really guilty then. I stopped messing around and caught him up. He’s a lot taller than me, but I let him stroke me and reassure me that it wasn’t my fault. We walked back to the junction and set off in search of Helen’s new place. I had to go back on the lead, but instead of pulling and playing silly buggers as usual, I walked nicely beside him as we made our way up the hill.

Steve was vague on the address, but I was happy to play about on the grassy area while he found the right house. I know now that when he says, ‘Two minutes,’ he actually means five minutes, or maybe longer. I don’t panic any more. He’s never failed to come back, and I’ll wait for him for ages without crying or barking. We’ve developed such a close relationship that we can almost read each others’ minds. One Dog and her Man. It’s the best way to be.

After Steve came back out, we headed home. He had things to do, so he used the spare key and left me in the kitchen. (MEMO TO KATH: Can you please leave my bed in the kitchen when you go out, as the tiled floor isn’t very comfy. Thanks!)

Anyway, with some help from Stella the Filthy Labrador, Steve had delivered Helen’s, Thomas’s and Evan’s presents. A couple of days earlier, I’d decided a bit of present snooping was in order. Kath had put them all in the spare room, and reminded everyone to keep the door closed when they went out. There were presents for everyone. The room was crammed. I wasn’t allowed in. Everything was tickety-boo.

Except that Sammy had left the door ajar when she left the house. This was a case for CSI Stella.

When Kath got home, she was greeted by a shredded piece of wrapping paper at the foot of the stairs. I was the prime suspect immediately. Kath ran upstairs in a panic, expecting to find a whole Crime Scene to be investigated.

Steve’s taught me well. I’d rummaged through every single package before finding my own present and then taken it downstairs. Who on Earth had thought that buying me a squeaky plastic toy in the shape of a Christmas pudding would be a good idea? I spent about three days driving everyone demented. In fact, I fried Kath’s brain to such an extent that she went to Egypt just to get away from the noise!

Steve and I have pencilled in a Ramble for two weeks’ time. I hope his back’s better by then. It had better be worth the wait. Otherwise, I’ll know he was right when he told me that ‘sciatica’ was Classical Greek for ‘a pain in the arse.’

FORWARD

Sneak in the Grass

Autumn has come suddenly to our little corner of Wales. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I first persuaded Steve to take me exploring – the time’s really flown by. And after seeing all four seasons for myself, I’ve decided that autumn is my favourite time of year. After all the rain we had during our ‘summer’, it’s been dry, mild and gorgeously crunchy underpaw whenever we’ve have gone out for the last week or so. There’s a thick carpet of leaves all along our usual walk, along the river and into Aberdare, and I’ve been having tremendous fun charging through them and scattering them everywhere. The heavy winds we’ve had have brought loads of branches down as well, so we’ve had a steady supply of Sticks to play with.

Best of all, of course, there are squirrels everywhere! Or, perhaps not. Steve’s convinced that I’m the canine equivalent of Joseph McCarthy – although instead of Communists, I see squirrels everywhere. I chased one into the undergrowth one day last week and Steve thought I’d imagined it. He walked on, expecting me to catch him up in a few moments, like I usually do. But I was so sure that one of the furry irritants was hiding there, I went to look for it.

Steve didn’t realise I wasn’t following him for a couple of minutes, by which time I was well and truly lost in the bushes. He came back, calling me all the time. I was going nuts (no pun intended) trying to find my way out. Eventually I erupted onto the path and nearly knocked him over. To make things worse, I’d somehow got myself stuck in a Y-shaped branch, which I was wearing like a yoke by this time. I don’t know which of us found it funnier.

Swimming conditions have been interesting, to say the least. We had a tremendous downpour about a fortnight ago (shortly after we’d got home, luckily) and that put the river out of bounds for a couple of days. After my near miss in the River Neath a few months ago, I know my limitations when it comes to fast water. I like to push myself in other respects, mind. If I had to set up in the Retrieving business, my slogan would be No Stick Too Small…

We were in the Country Park a few weeks ago (without the camera, unfortunately) and I retrieved loads of huge Sticks from the bottom lake. Steve thought I’d dived in to chase the ducks, but it’s more fun to gather wood. I don’t what I’m going to do with it all, mind. Maybe we can have a bonfire next month. Or else I’ll try and find a friendly beaver and help it build a dam.

In the absence of sticks, of course, Steve tries to fool me by throwing stones into the water and hoping I’ll chase them instead. Occasionally he catches me out. After I’ve swum around for a couple of minutes, I usually come out and shake all over him, after fixing him with my steely gaze…

I think that’s what Sammy and her young friends call ‘giving him evils.’

I’ve also introduced a variation on the traditional game of Stick. It’s more like rugby than cricket, I’m pleased to say, and Steve’s useless at it. I call it Sneak in the Grass, and I developed it in the big field by the railway bridge. The rules are simple. Steve throws the Stick as usual, but it has to land in a really overgrown part of the field. That’s not difficult, as it’s quite neglected, with tall stands of Himalayan Balsam (which have all died back at the moment), cow parsley, the odd gorse plant, and loads of really long grass.

Then we both have to go in search of it. Nine times out of ten I find it first, because I’m faster than he is, so I can cover the ground in so time at all. If I find it first, I get to run around the field, parading it like a trophy before dropping it so that we can begin a new hunt. If Steve finds it first (some hope!), he gets to throw it again and the game continues. If we both spot it at the same time, it’s a game of split-second timing to see who grabs it first. That’s the ‘sneak’ part – each player has to bluff the other into thinking they haven’t really seen it, and then snatch it up quickly. It’s an open-ended game, which lasts until we both fail to find it, or it gets lost in the brambles, or it breaks. (There seems to be a manufacturing flaw in our latest batch of Sticks, as they break far too easily.)

Anyway, Steve’s been busy today and he’s busy tomorrow, so I hope he’ll make it up to me at the weekend. There’s even been talk of a Ramble, so paws crossed I’ll have somewhere new to report on next week.

FORWARD

Unclean! Unclean!

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything here, but that doesn’t mean life has been quiet. For one thing, I’ve been settling into my new house, as I told you last time. The great thing is that Steve only lives a couple of minutes’ walk away, so we’ve been going out even more regularly than we used to. We haven’t been for a proper Ramble for a while, so I haven’t had much to report. The weather’s mostly been atrocious (as usual), but we’ve still managed to get a few nice strolls in all the same.  I’ve made lots of new friends while we’ve been out, of course. I’m much more confident around other dogs than I used to be, and I hardly ever have to go on the lead unless we’re in busy traffic. Yesterday was a fairly sunny day, so we went for our usual constitutional by the river and I had a good swim by the iron bridge.

We seem to be in the middle of our very own bank crisis at the moment. About two weeks ago we went to our little spot not far from one of the Scary Bridges. Instead of the usual wide stretch of riverbank where we usually play Stick, there was only a tiny patch of gravel where Steve could stand. I went for a dip, swam out a bit too far, and ended up way downstream. I eventually made my back to dry land and had to crash back through the undergrowth on the slope to get back to Steve. He thought it was hysterical, of course.

The same thing happened yesterday. The nice rocky shore by the iron bridge where we usually play was inundated after a downpour on Sunday. Even the few sticks we managed to find were waterlogged. We went into the field instead and I had a good run around while Steve took some photographs. There we were some lovely spiders’ webs in the field, and yesterday he managed to get a photo of this little specimen:

Before he had chance to line up a second shot, I decided to see what he was up to. My tail got tangled in the web, one of the main strands snapped, and the poor spider ended up in the grass a few feet away. I don’t think I’m really cut out to be a photographer’s assistant. Mind you, one day last week he managed to get this sneaky shot of me while I was distracted:

Maybe I should stick to my modelling career instead. I don’t cause nearly as much bother when I’m on this side of the lens.

Anyway, we walked into town and Steve called into Iceland for a couple of things while I sat outside. People were making a fuss of me, and I was doing my best ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ act while I watched him by the checkout. He was talking to a pretty girl in front of him in the queue. She said ‘hello’ to me as she left. It wasn’t someone I’ve met before, but when we were walking past the bank we bumped into her by the bank. It turned out that she was another Claire, and I liked her straight away – I can always tell an animal lover when I meet one. She and Steve chatted for a minute before they agreed to go for a sneaky pint.

No, here was a problem. There aren’t many dog-friendly pubs in Aberdare town centre. I’ve told you previously how I got banned from the warm pub after stealing a log from the fireplace. That ruled out their favourite stop. Apparently another dog had caused trouble somewhere else, so that was ruled out as well. It wasn’t much of a day to trek very far, so they suggested a pub at the top end of the town. At least we could sit in the beer garden and hope the rain stayed away.

We’d only just walked into the beer garden when Helen strolled in. She must have spotted us on our way on when she was walking into town. That was a nice surprise, so we found a table and settled down. A few minutes later one of the pub staff came out and told them that dogs weren’t allowed in the beer garden. We’d all guessed (correctly) that I wouldn’t be allowed inside, but I thought banning us all from the outside as well was a bit rich. We were the only people there, nobody was eating, and there were no children around. But, it seems, the whole pub is classified as a ‘food premises’ and so I was persona non grata.

Steve hooked my lead up to the gate, thinking that I’d be far enough from the pub to be okay, and carried on chatting to his friends. It wasn’t long before another member of staff came out and said that I was too near the cellar! What did she think I was going to do – pee in their beer? Steve and the girls gulped their drinks back and got ready to leave. As Helen was finishing her drink, a lady came from inside the pub with a Golden Labrador on a lead. He was okay to go in there, apparently, because he’s a guide dog.

I know that public buildings can’t discriminate against people with disabilities, but it seems to me that they’re discriminating against able-bodied dog-owners. I’m just as well-behaved (most of the time) as that lady’s dog was, and I’m very clean (except when I’ve come straight out of the river.) I’ve been into other pubs without any problems, so I think it’s just a case of ‘Elf and Safety gone mad! In the meantime, if you hear of any dog-friendly pubs which haven’t heard of my reputation for stealing firewood, please let us know.

FORWARD

The Bucket List

Steve and I are definitely fair weather friends. Even though I always get soaked to the skin when we go out, I like to do it on my own terms. The thought of trudging through the streets while it’s lashing down with rain doesn’t appeal to me. That’s why we haven’t been Rambling for ages – the weather’s been appalling. If this is what the Great British Summer is like, I want to emigrate.

Mind you, Saturday was bright and mild, if a bit breezy, after the torrential rain we’d had all week. We’d escaped the flooding which affected parts of Wales, and the forecast was okay. Steve decided to take a chance and call for me early. Since our last Ramble, Jess and Dai have moved to a house a couple of minutes’ walk from his house, so he didn’t have to wait until the pub was open. He’s got a new camera as well, so we could have fun again.

We were on our way just after ten o’clock, on the bus heading away from town. The driver was one of Steve’s pals, Nathan, and he dropped us at the bottom of a very long steep hill, by a little cluster of houses. Steve joked that Nathan was too young to remember when there was a pub there. He told us that the last bus didn’t go back until after six o’clock. That gave us over seven hours to explore – it would be our longest Ramble so far.

We set off past a little row of cottages, and I did my usual routine of nosing into the front gardens as we went. I decided to celebrate our reunion by having a sneaky poo in one of them. Steve was horrified, and walked away pretending not to know me.

Further on, the road was lined with big grand houses, and there was a lovely fast stream running from the hillside into a culvert under the road. I dived straight into the water, of course, and Steve found a couple of Sticks. But I’m really out of practice! The strong current carried them away before I could even see where they’d hit the water. After three attempts we abandoned the game. Result: Rain Stopped Play – and it wasn’t even raining. The road curved round on itself, with more big houses on either side, and went uphill to a bridge. We came up with a plan. We walked under the bridge, up a little slope and onto the path at the top.

After our previous Rambles, I know a disused railway line when I see one (even if Steve can’t tell a working line and a closed line apart!) The narrow straight path was lined with trees on both sides, and the bridge still had remnants of the old track.

Back on track…

Steve had a quick look at the map and decided to head roughly towards Aberdare. We’d only just left the bridge behind when we came to a deep muddy puddle across the width of the path. I charged straight through it while Steve edged along a dry section at the edge. I resisted the temptation to run back towards him while I was filthy, and galloped on instead. We went on for a few minutes and crossed another bridge over a stream. I spotted a bird in the bushes a few yards away and ran after it, as usual. It turned out to be a huge bird of prey. We watched as it soared into the air and circled high above the village. It could have probably carried me away if it had wanted to. When we arrived back at the puddle, Steve must have seen the way I was looking at him.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he warned me, ‘or you’ll be walking home!’

He had our bus tickets so I knew he was serious. I got nicely muddy again, but decided to stay out of splashing distance. Once we’d crossed the bridge, the path sloped gently downhill. We could hear the rumble of traffic in the distance, and through occasional gaps in the trees we could see the road itself, on a flyover above the village. There was another dog in the distance and I wondered if I could make a new friend. As soon it spotted me, it tore off in the other direction and vanished from sight around a bend. I didn’t think I was that scary!

It was hard to tell whether the tree-lined cliff on our left was natural or man-made in places. It was probably a mixture of both, designed to stop the embankment from falling onto the railway line. There were beautiful little waterfalls springing from the rock after the rain, and we stopped every so often to look at them. Unfortunately, all we could do was look. Steve had forgotten to put new batteries in his camera, and it had gone flat almost as soon as we set off. He squeezed the odd drop of juice out of them now and again, but we both knew it wouldn’t last long.

We carried on down the slope, and through the trees we could see the village. There were old terraced streets in the centre, huge expensive new houses on the hillside behind it, and half a dozen wind turbines turning slowly on the hilltops above them. We decided to head down and buy some replacement batteries, then take photos of the waterfalls on our way back.
A little bit further on, a fallen tree had blocked the path entirely, and we had to clamber over it to carry on.

Not my best side, I’m afraid!

Steve got his camera out again, and realised that he’d dropped my lead some time during the walk. Actually, ‘lead’ is the wrong word. I must have put mine in a safe place (taking after Kath, see!), so Dai had given Steve a piece of yellow nylon cord as a stopgap. It had probably slipped out of his bag when he was looking at the map. We retraced our steps to the bridge, and found it lying on the grass just past the muddy puddle. I felt more mischievous every time I had to plough my way through it. On the return leg I actually did run towards Steve, before turning away at the last moment. I won’t tell you what he called me.

We’d lost quite a bit of time after this unexpected detour, so we headed straight back to the fallen tree and climbed over it again. I could hear running water in the distance, so I went off to investigate. Steve followed me and stopped at the top of the slope. There was a path running from the railway line down the slope, then steeply back up into the trees. A fast-flowing stream was crashing down through the trees and over the rocks. The water was a pale creamy-brown colour, and the sun was filtering down through the trees. It was a beautiful place. I think we’d accidentally found a good time to see it, after all the rain we’ve had. We made up our minds to come back when we had new batteries in the camera and pressed on again.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get very far. As the line approached the main road it petered out to nothing, and we found ourselves up heading into thick woodland. We turned round and made our way back to the waterfall.

The river runs under a little bridge here, with a path alongside. We went under the bridge, dropped down quite steeply and found another path at the bottom. It must have been another disused railway line, as we found timber sleepers here and there. We followed it for a couple of minutes to a bridge over a fast, wide river. There was a warning sign on the approach, but I ignored it. It was really interesting.

There were lengths of disused rails and decaying sleepers alongside the footbridge, and the whole thing stood on solid brick piers. It seemed safe enough to me. Steve followed me across, and we emerged onto a huge area of grass and wild flowers, with the flyover cutting through it on its huge concrete pillars. There were a lady and a dog in the distance, but apart from that we had the place to ourselves. We found a track beside the river and followed it downstream. There wasn’t a riverbank as such. Huge boulders had been laid beside the track to stop the field flooding after the sort of rain we’d had. We were about six feet above the water, but even so I managed to find a little slope to the water’s edge and dived straight in.

That was when I came up with my Bucket List. Steve wants to photograph the South Wales valleys. If we go together, I can swim in every river and stream in the area while he’s at it. I’ve already notched up the Cynon, Dare, Aman, Taff, Nant, Nant y Groes, Cwmbach Canal, Rhondda Fach, Nant yr Afallen (I had to get Steve to look that one up for me!) and Hepste. There are loads more on the maps, and plenty of little streams that probably don’t have names, like the one that runs into the Cynon on our regular Stick route. By lunchtime on Saturday I could add the Nedd, Gwrelych, and Nant Rhyd-y-gau to my list.

The Nedd was more powerful than I’d imagined, though! I found myself fighting against the current just to stay in the same place. Steve hunted around for Sticks but couldn’t find anything on all that grassland. I climbed back up and we carried on downstream. We walked under the flyover and found even more grassland on the other side. I was surprised that nobody’s built houses on it yet. Mind you, maybe that’s why the flood defences have been installed. There was a man fishing from the boulders a bit further on, so I sneaked up on him to say hello. Luckily he saw the funny side when Steve apologized for me.

We saw some houses at the end of the grassy area, so we headed that way. The path became narrow as we approached the houses, and we met a man and a big black poodle. While Steve and the man chatted for ages, he and I had a great game of chase and splash in the puddles. It was a shame we hadn’t met up on the grass – we could have had a terrific run around there.

We got to the houses and headed towards the main road. There’s one of those express supermarkets not far away, so Steve left me outside while he called in to buy new batteries. Two young girls spotted me while he was untangling me on the way out, said I was ‘lush’, and came over to make a fuss of me. In fact, everyone we met was really friendly that day. We made our way along the line beside the supermarket into a little housing estate, and from there into a park. I found a little stream in a ditch, and tried retrieving half a tree.

Biting off more than I can chew again

We made our way to a bench and Steve took some sandwiches from his bag. He didn’t give me a bite, though. I was a bit miffed, but he produced a big sausage roll and fed it to me slowly, instead of letting me swallow it whole as usual. I had a run around while he changed the batteries and took some photos of the park.

Some lads were playing football at the far end of the playground, and I ran over to join in the game. Another couple were walking their dog, so I said hello to them as well. That bit of lunch had given me my second wind. It was just as well, because while Steve chatted to a man on another bench, I found myself surrounded by four mad Spaniels who wanted to play rough. I teamed up with another black Labrador and we had a good run around together, fighting over a plastic bottle.

It was two o’clock by the time we decided to move on, towards a big chapel which we’d seen from the park. It was surrounded by graves on all sides, and the graveyard was really interesting. I had a wander around while Steve took photos. He found a water tap and a piece of hosepipe on the side of the building, and decided to spray me. I wasn’t impressed. As I said earlier, I like to get wet on my own terms. We walked uphill from the chapel and I found a nice stream running beside the track. That was more my scene.

We doubled back to the main road and passed a big pub set away from the traffic. Then we crossed the road and Steve took some photos of a little cluster of shops. The road runs over a foot tunnel, so we went through that and carried on in the same direction. A little way along we came to a narrow road into a small industrial estate. We walked along it, skirted around some more houses, and came out at a couple of fields, with a church standing oddly at the end of one of them. Steve realised where we were. His friend Martin had told him about an old mansion which would be worth photographing. We’d accidentally found it – or rather, what was left of it! The place has been all but demolished, with only the ornate gates and parts of the frontage left.

A small river, stained orange by the iron in the rocks, runs directly past the entrance, so I dived straight in. It was another one ticked off my Bucket List.

Paddling in the Pergwm

When we were on the way towards the church, a lady drove past us and parked up outside. When we got to the church, she spoke to Steve and told him that the owners didn’t like people taking photographs of the ruins. She and her family live nearby, and apparently they get the blame whenever anything about the house appears on the Internet. She told him quite a bit about the history of the place, and showed us the family burial ground at the side of the church. We decided to explore the churchyard before heading back to the main road.

We carried on in the same direction and came to a junction, where we headed to the right. Steve wanted to try and take some photos of the coal mine a bit further along. The gates were locked, of course, but he got a couple of decent pictures from the roadside. In the meantime, I’d spotted some more water, which looked like another canal. I decided to dive straight in, forgetting that Steve was still holding my makeshift lead. He had to make a snap decision – let me go, or follow me into the water? I knew from his tone of voice that he wasn’t pleased. I really need to be a bit more careful, don’t I?

The Creature From the Neath & Port Tennant Canal!

We walked back to the junction, crossed the road again and made our way back towards the pub. We both fancied a sit down, so we went in at the side gate and down the steps to the beer garden. Steve tied my lead to one of the benches and told me he wouldn’t be long. As soon as he turned his back I managed to break free and ran up the steps after him. There’s a little smoking area at the side of the pub, so he left me there while he went to the bar. I could see him through the door, so I was happy to wait outside. I could hear the repeated sound of birds singing, but I couldn’t see them. It turned out that they were nesting in the ashtray fixed to one of the wooden uprights.

The Law of Unintended Consequences strikes again…

The landlady came out and had a chat with Steve, while I lay down on the decking and had a well-deserved breather.

We made our way back through the streets to the river, and retraced our route upstream. When we got to the point where the brownish water from the waterfall entered the main river, Steve decided to take some photos. While we setting up the tripod, I decided to go for a swim. Before he knew what I was doing, I was floundering around in the river, swimming fiercely to try and find a place where I could touch the bottom.

Eventually I managed to scramble onto one of the rocks, but I couldn’t climb up any further. I was soaking wet, and kept sliding back down into the water. When I fell in for the third time, I felt sure I was going to drown. My whole life flashed before me – which wasn’t very interesting, consisting as it did mostly of sleeping and eating – and then I managed to find a way back up. All this time, Steve kept telling me it was my own fault. He teased me that I’d end up in Swansea Bay, and have to be rescued by the Mumbles lifeboat. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence. I made my way back onto the path, charged straight at him, and left a huge wet mark on his jeans. I know, I’m childish, but I don’t care!

We crossed the bridge and went uphill to the disused railway line. We had time to spare, so Steve took lots of photos of the waterfalls before we headed back the way we’d come that morning. I couldn’t resist being in one of the shots, of course. It’s a bit blurred because the ground was slippery, so Steve was hanging onto a tree with one hand while taking it.

We were walking past the big houses when I spotted something unusual on the pavement. It was a bird, just sitting there, not making any attempt to fly away from me. Steve wondered if it was injured, and I had a good look at it as well, but there was nothing obviously wrong with it.

Is this what photographers mean when they say ‘watch the birdie’?

We left it alone and made our way back to the bus stop. It turned out that we had more time that we’d anticipated – the bus was late running down from Aberdare – so I curled up in the shelter to wait for it to come back. I was absolutely shattered!

Dog tired!

I almost fell asleep on the bus, and then we had walk back to the house. I was still a bit muddy, so Steve decided to wash me off in the river by the Iron Bridge before he dropped me off. I was too tired to even play Stick – I just had a quick paddle and climbed back out.

Jess was in the front garden when I got home. It was nearly quarter to eight. It was definitely the longest we’ve ever been out, and I was more than ready for food and an early night. The forecast isn’t good for the rest of the week, so I think we’ll be Strolling instead of Rambling for a while. But we’re back, and that’s the main thing!

FORWARD

Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On

The weather’s been foul for most of the last week, so Steve and I haven’t been far. Today I was looking forward to a nice Ramble somewhere new. He’d promised to take me somewhere if the weather was okay. He was already in the pub when I came in, so I fetched my lead as usual. But he was busy doing some work on our Netbook, so I got bored waiting for him to finish.

Meanwhile, I decided to chew the nearest thing to paw – which was my lead! It wasn’t until Steve shouted at me that I realised that I’d peed on my chips again. I’d chewed through the loop. Not only could he not hold me when we were out, but it would be impossible to leave me outside anywhere while he went to buy me a snack. I’d done the very same thing on our ramble over the mountain. You’d think I’d have learned by now, wouldn’t you?

Anyway, now that I’d limited myself to off-roading, we set off down the long hill towards the bridge. There were some children in a garden when we walked past, and they made a fuss of me over the wall. I love children, as we’re more or less the same size and equally playful. We went along the tramroad towards the field, and Steve tried to get me to jump through the wooden fence. There’s a crosspiece missing from one section, and two or three missing a bit further along. Eventually I realised that I’d better show willing, and leapt through the space between the crosspieces. Steve praised me, and thought I’d jump back over again, but I just strolled through the big gap instead. People could easily mistake my fundamental laziness for high intelligence. I think Steve’s beginning to catch on… 

After all the rain we’ve had, I wasn’t surprised to find that the puddle under the trees had returned with a vengeance. Last time we went there, Steve was wearing a pair of jeans that he’d washed just the previous day. Well, it was my duty to leave my mark on them, of course, and he had to wash them again that night. He was wearing them again today, and wisely kept his distance while I charged through the mud and standing water. Normally, he collects a handful of Sticks in the field, but today he didn’t bother. He knew I’d exploit Martyn’s Flattening Rule if I saw them, and leave muddy prints all over him again. Instead, he decided to wait until were by the Iron Bridge. and I was already on my way down the steps to the riverbank.

I have to confess that I’ve been on poor form the last couple of days. Today must have been my worst performance ever. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I didn’t manage a single Seek, and even held back from a golden opportunity to dive into the really deep part. I know we’ve missed a few days’ training, but surely that can’t be the problem. After watching my few feeble attempts, Steve decided to abandon the game. I was still paddling, so I ran back up to the bridge and shook all over him. Strictly speaking, that just made his jeans wet but not mucky, so he couldn’t give me a row. I don’t think he was too pleased, mind.

Once we were across the railway line and on the path, I decided to run on ahead. Coming towards us were two terriers, and they didn’t sound pleased to see me. They made an awful racket as we approached, and their owner told us that they didn’t like other dogs. She said they were old and crotchety. Steve’s brother’s dog is the same as well, apparently. They’re like the old men in the pub, moaning about the youngsters who come in at weekends. Maybe that’s what happens to us when we get into double figures – we turn into Grumpy Old Dogs. Maybe we could pitch the idea to one of Steve’s friends, who works for BBC Wales. I hope I never ever end up like that. If I do, you have my permission to have me put down.

When we got to the part where the path branches, Steve said I could have a treat. I’d managed to put the mockers on our proposed Ramble. To make the most of the weather, we took the lane past the farmhouse and onto the hill. I love being out in the countryside, We even found part of a bird’s egg while we were exploring the hedgerow. It was pale blue, and Steve thought it might have been a blackbird’s. He’s going to line a matchbox with cotton wool in case we find any more. At the top of the hill, I found a huge puddle and had a good splash around. This time, Steve was expecting me to shake over him, so I didn’t disappoint him. He was only just dry from the last time.

We decided to go along the lane and up to the Scary Bridge, and I got really wet this time. The path was awash with standing water, and there was no choice but to wade through it. (Actually, I could have done what Steve did and walked on the verge until we’d got past, but my method is much more fun.) And, of course, once we were back on dry land, I had to dry myself off again. This time, I really soaked him. I don’t know why I’m so evil sometimes. It’s fun, though.

A bit further on, we had to wait at the side of the path while two teenagers went past, one on a motorbike and one on a pushbike. I decided to race them for a little while, but they soon left me behind. It turned out that they were heading for the Scary Bridge as well, so we followed them uphill. They went underneath and onto the concrete road. We climbed onto the path and headed towards the little row of cottages we’d explored before. It was really quiet up there, but nice and muddy. I had a good run around on the slopes and dived into some lovely puddles. I knew that sooner or later I’d give into temptation and leave a mucky pawprint on Steve’s jeans. I just needed to catch him unawares.

We went down the lane towards the cottages, and into the field we’d explored on our last visit. Steve wants to take some more photos of the village school, and we found a good vantage point overlooking the building. That means a return visit when he gets his new camera. Then we cut down past the new houses and onto the path. There was a stile at the bottom of the gravel slope. Steve was wondering whether I’d remember what to do. This time, I was able to duck underneath it, instead of jumping over – another example of my head saving my legs.

As we walked along the path, we spotted the horses leaning over the fence. I’m a lot more confident around them now, so I went over to say ‘hello’. The little one is really strange. He’s not much bigger than me, with long shaggy hair covering his eyes. We touched noses through the fence, and it felt great to have finally conquered my phobia. I wanted to play with them, but the fence was between us. Maybe one day I’ll meet them on the path and get to know them properly.

We returned to the river by walking down the slope beside the wall. I always love playing there. The slopes are so steep and overgrown that Steve loses sight of me every time we go there. I decided to take the opportunity to ambush him. I got myself lovely and muddy while I was out of sight at the top of the slope. When Steve called me, I hurled myself towards him and finally planted my front paws on this legs. My name was mud after that!

I’d craftily earned myself a final swim, as he couldn’t take me home in that state. We had a rather pathetic round of Stick by the other bridge, so that I could wash all the mud off myself. When we got back to the pub, Sammy was in the lounge with some of her friends. I jumped onto them straight away. They were horrified to find out that I was still damp. Steve just showed them the pawprints on his leg and said, ‘Don’t worry, girls – it could have been a lot worse.’

FORWARD

The Morning After…

I’m way too young to have seen the old Yellow Pages ad with the teenage boys waking up after a house party. Steve remembers it well, and so do his friends. They’ve even been sending him photographs of their Labradors in compromising positions. We thought we’d pay homage to the old advert with this little compilation:

'Oh no! Kath'll be home any time!'

HALF AN HOUR LATER…

(Steve’s note: Many thanks to Simon Jones and John Kear for their contributions.)

FORWARD

Trainspotting

We had a bit of an exciting discovery yesterday, when we were playing Stick by the Iron Bridge. Last week I told you that the freight trains are still running through the level crossing. Well, we were there yesterday when Steve and I saw a man in high-visibility clothing walking over the railway bridge. At first we thought he had something to do with the engineering work that’s been going on there. But then I heard a very strange noise coming from the direction of the factory. It was a low-pitched whine and it was getting louder. Steve realised straight away what it was, so we went to stand further downstream. A few moments later, a enormous engine crawled into view. It was nothing like the ones we’ve travelled on before. It was much louder, sounded far more powerful, and was pulling huge wagons behind it. It came to a stop for a minute while the man we’d seen operated the level crossing gates. The engine noise rose in pitch, and it made its way effortlessly over the bridge and across the road where we normally cross.

It was really exciting to be so close to the train I’d heard about last week. Mind you, I’m really glad we weren’t walking along the track at the time. After it had gone, Steve and I resumed our walk and found that the gates on either side of the line were wide open. That seemed rather negligent on the part of the railway company. I’m sure there must be other dogs who run way ahead of their people, like I do. I bet their owners would be held responsible if anything went wrong. I couldn’t figure out why the man hadn’t closed them before the train came along. Anyway, while we were crossing, Steve made a point of closing them behind us. (He usually does anyway, but now we’ve realised how important they are!)

If the weather stays nice today, we’re going to go there at about the same time and see if it runs again. If it does, we’ll definitely go tomorrow. Steve wants to take a video for his archive, before the line gets upgraded. And I’ll get to come home soaked three days in a row. Result!

FORWARD