My Little Foibles



JUST WHAT A GOOD BEACH IS FOR



Much is made of a dog's ability to walk and run and I am sure it is very laudable but I have to say that at this moment in time I am not very keen

and this seems to have created a bit of a problem with my Mum and Dad. Apparently my predecessor, Stormy, was mad keen on 'walkies' and seemed to have set a bit of a precedent. He was out for hours on end and loved nothing better than chasing after a frisbee or a stick. I think my Dad naturally assumed I would be the same but I can't really dredge up any enthusiasm or interest. Chasing after, catching and retrieving a frisbee does not compare in my eyes to a really good sniff!

Walking off the lead I don't mind too much but I cannot stand being on the lead. I'm not too sure why but I think it goes back to when I was very young, only a few weeks old on the farm, and used to be held by the scruff of the neck. The result is I don't like anyone touching me around that area and having a collar on is a pain. When a lead is attached it's even worse and any desire for a walk soon disappears.

As I said before I am quite highly-strung and this doesn't help when going for a walk. Sometimes I am fine but other times I just do not want to go out and just want to stay safe indoors. Even when I am out, the slightest little thing can set me off. I remember one of the first times we were down on Cei Bach beach early in the morning and nobody about, the whole beach to ourselves or so I thought for far in the distance I could see this one solitary figure coming towards us. At first I didn't think anything of it but as he came closer wrapped in his 'hi-vis' bright yellow jacket, he took on the guise of a demon and I was off, back along the beach,up the path and back to the car without stopping. Poor old Dad arrived sometime later and I am not sure to this day whether he had a look of despair that I had run off or one of relief that I was safe.

Noise is another thing that get's me going, not necessarily loud noises but one's that are repetitive. I often go for a walk in the farm fields near us or down by the river but unfortunately there is an Army firing range nearby and although the firing is not loud I do not like the constant 'popping' sound and I'm afraid that is the end whenever it starts.Apparently, a dog living just up the road, he got spooked by the same noise a few years ago and ended up a few miles away and lost for a fortnight. Touch wood it hasn't got that bad yet!

When Stormy died, Mum and Dad were not sure about getting another dog and decided that if they did, then they didn't want one too similar to Stormy. Well I can assure them that their wish has come true but I hope that I can make up for their loss and in my own way, be just as much a companion as he was.