Category Archives: Dog

Glastonbury

I was briefly excited at the prospect of attending this year’s Glastonbury Extravaganza. It seemed the ideal way to get a tiny bit of the festival experience in a (second) year without the festival itself.

But dogs aren’t allowed.

My disappointment dissipated quickly when I read that camping will be possible on the site this summer.

And then returned when I learned that Campervans won’t be allowed. Well, not allowed for camping. My hopes were once more built up with the possibility of renting a pre-erected tent, leaving the van in the car park.

But, yes, you guessed it. Dogs aren’t allowed. Pah.

Brass Plaque

I had a random conversation with an old guy a couple of days ago. This began in a lift at Washington bus station.

The dog was looking particularly cute, so attracted his attention. This led to dog related dialogue.

Which continued after we left the lift. He told me that his father lost a much loved dog around 100 years ago. With Council permission, he mounted a plaque on a tree to commemorate the dog’s life.

The tree’s somewhere in Kent; the plaque’s still there.

I like things like that.

Van

We took the van for a run out the other day.

The dog’s moustache matches the rust around the wheel arches.

Stairs

The dog appears to have developed stair anxiety. If there’s such a thing.

She loves stairs and takes every opportunity to climb new heights. However, around a week ago, she refused to use the stairs. In an upward direction, that is.

Since she sleeps upstairs, that means I need to carry her upstairs each evening. She’s not a large dog, but is very heavy for her size.

I’ve tried leaving her, but she simply lies at the bottom of the stairs, looking miserable (of course, that’s a human interpretation of her feelings). The same happens during the day. Since (almost) leaving the Pub, the hound and I have been spending a lot more time together. Before her sudden change in behaviour, she’d follow me everywhere. But now she only follows me as far as the bottom of the stairs.

Meanwhile, the outcome is that, while I continue to encourage her to use the stairs again, I continue to carry her upstairs each evening. With some difficulty.

Fright

I need to give some context for this post. There’ve been a couple of strange happenings in the pub; separate incidents where unattended glasses have abruptly left tables. I’ll not go into detail here, but even as a non-believer, I found this unsettling.

Then yesterday morning, after a shower and slightly blind without glasses, I opened the bathroom door to be faced with (in the darkness of the landing) a bright light coming towards me.

The light was moving erratically, side to side, in circles, up and down. I’d never seen anything like it and instinctively took a couple of steps back.

And then I heard a snorting noise; the kind of noise an excited dog makes when they have a new toy in their mouth.

In this case, a dog with a torch.

I’ve no idea where she found it, or how she managed to turn it on. The switch is recessed at the end, so she must have been chewing the new discovery to hit the switch.