I’m back!!

Hi y’all.

No doubt you’ve been wondering where I’ve been. Well so much has happened I’m not sure where to start.

After we left the Coves I spent a couple of days at my cousins’ house. I loved it there, although at times it was quite confusing. No matter where I ventured, indoors or out, upstairs or down, sitting or living room, kitchen or dining…. I kept seeing the same face. I realise my own human is getting on a bit in years & she is slowing down somewhat, but I found the speed of the two-legged in this cousins’ house to be amazing. One minute the grooming brush would be in action, quickly followed by a neck-cuddle, the odd screech, a tail-pull, a sly serving of indeterminate biscuit, TV cartoons in the background and lots of exciting sounds.

It took some time to dawn on me that this was the house of the three sets of girl twins I’d heard so much about. No wonder that it seemed one person could be everywhere at once πŸ˜‚

After a few thrilling days here my uncle & Missy came to drive me to the city. More excitement abounded but no sign of my own human. I resolved not to be sad. At least I had Missy to help keep my spirits up.

Two weeks later, the eventual joy of my human reunion knew no bounds. I love her so much, couldn’t be mad at her for leaving me.

By all accounts she was lounging around in the Italian countryside…. yeah- that fits alright. She has the look of someone who’s been eating pasta….

(Note to self! Apply for a doggie passport.)

Jewels in the crown?

It started off reasonably well. Usual parking space, tucked in tight to the farmer’s wall. Bounded from the boot. No other cars. No lead required. Glancing down from the brow of the slope, the tide was way out & there were no obvious beach walkers – this promised solitude for the human & glorious freedom for me.

Mmmmm…. Okaaaay…..We were mysteriously joined by Fred the seal-dog on Cove One. Dunno where he popped out of. Doggie playtime ensued until he was summoned by a resounding human whistle from above. Back he went as we ventured forward.

When we reached Cove Two I saw a bright orange object approaching from the water. Buoyed by the waves, its size was difficult to determine but the nearer it got, the larger it became. Soon I was able to identify that it had a multicoloured, bobbing crown.

By the time we reached Cove Three the mysterious phenomenon had changed course and was rapidly progressing towards the sandy beach. Shortly thereafter, it paused, 6 individual jewels of its crown took on a life of their own, popped off the hindquarters, into the wavy water and proceeded towards shore at the far end of the bay. One dark, moving part remained attached to the carrot-coloured shell.

Not sure if this new presence might be threatening, I continued to observe cautiously & we both proceeded with care. They started shedding their glowing outer skins, each revealing sleek & shiny black coats, not badly unlike my own – but less hairy. And then ….I realised they were human, had merely removed their life jackets and were spreading out on the rocks in their wetsuits for a picnic. Duh!!

My human chatted to the Mama picnicker momentarily but my interest in the kiddies’ sandwiches convinced her that we should do an about-turn and head back towards Cove Two. Well what do ye know?! There was another intruder approaching there. I realised that this one was a boat; a small, white vessel, with two fishing rods cocked straight up into the air, seeking a spot to come ashore. We stood & studied them. They waved. She waved back. I barked a ‘hello, but could you not find somewhere else to land?’ questioning sound. Interesting and all as they might be to meet up with & chat about local mackerel & pollock stocks, it might mean I’d be put on the lead & there’s not much fun in that kind of restraint on a beach.

Back at Cove One on our return journey the skies cleared & the sun beamed down BUT if there wasn’t another punt beached in the sand. No evidence of life around this one but I wondered if it was a sign of things to come. Sloops in every cove? Hope it won’t curtail my freedom & exuberance.

Back to the boot & homeward bound I presumed (no! I’m not going to choose that song todayπŸ˜‚) but as we were leaving the laneway our 🚘 turned right instead of the usual after-walk left. Mmmm. This could be interesting. Soon we passed the sign for the harbour without making the turn, which intrigued me. Oh man!!! We were headed for the lighthouse & cliff walk. Brill!

Janey-Mack, the place was jammed with tourists, camper vans, tents, walkers, picnickers, kids playing jumbo Jenga & life sized chess, amateur photographers zooming in on the colossal Bevel chair, toddlers, bouncing balls and queues for the cafe, shop & tours.

My human offered to take a photograph for a French couple who were using a complicated looking camera. But oh! She got it wrong. Great one of the lighthouse but the people were missingπŸ˜‚ …tried again. They seemed happy.

On we went along the cliffs (me on my newly purchased, elasticated, comfy lead but I didn’t mind being under control- simply delighted to be there). The waves were just right; lots of sound but at a distance & not threatening-looking. The sun was shining, everyone we met said hello & smiled. (‘Miles away from Twitter-land’, I heard a passerby comment.)

My human took time out to greet a visiting couple. They had stayed at a renowned local hostelry overnight and had a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Well! they went on to have a looong conversation about the locality, things to do & see, & their chit-chat even included all about ME! (The usual rescue/surrender/well-behaved/delighted with him/he blogs etc … palaver). I behaved very well for the duration. A lovely couple. Something tells me they will return to the area.

Our uplifting (if slightly contradictory) music choice en route home was ‘Fisherman’s Blues’ by The Waterboys. Windows open, wind blowing, straight road ahead… both happy. 🎼🐾

More, and more and more!!

These mornings the temperatures are a wee bit cooler so it seems that the ripples of the water sound clearer. Not that we are beachside every morn these days! Somehow our routine is different than it used to be. Not to worry though. I’m a patient lad and am starting to trust this human of mine more & more each day.

On the days we don’t get to our morning exercise, my excitement actually knows no bounds, because usually it means there’s a surprise coming later in the day.

For instance… we spent time at the harbour near the cliffs a few days ago. The small beach nearby was our first stop for some galloping exercise, followed by some leisurely lead-walking around the piers, past fisherpeople & campers, locals & tourists, boats & cars, dogs and cats.

CATS!! PLURAL!! I strained forcefully on the leash, but all to no avail, so had to content myself with what my human refers to as ‘good behaviour’. Onward we strolled towards the arched entrance to the cliff walk (now newly wheelchair accessible for public toilet purposes). Grandpa was with us that day but he & his super-carer paused on the little bench and did some people-watching by the pier while they waited for us to return.

The scenic beauty of this locale never fails to amaze me. The farmer’s crop on my right as we head off continues to flourish to the edge of the well-defined, springy pathway which has been trodden flat by walkers feet. To my left are sheared escarpments, ridges, rocks & hollows of various depths & dimensions. Always the same (since I’ve been here) yet always appearing varied in their colour & consistency, placement & layout.

It was busy! Lots of comings & goings…we passed walkers, strollers, loungers, fisherpeople, dogs their owners, groups, singletons…all sorts. We came upon a couple who were resting at the path’s edge with their little dog, Belle. (Yikes! Snappy! She didn’t like my waggy tail!).

‘Lovely name’, says my human.

‘We call her that ‘cos she’s our doorbell!’ The gent responded & they all chuckled.

Further along, a group of fisherpeople were returning to base… laden down with equipment, rods & cool boxes.

‘Catch much?’, asked my human.

‘N’ere a bite at all, girl’, was the response. His sad, empty bucket was at my eye level. I could have told her that myself.

‘Mackerel not in so?’, she questioned… but they were gone.

Time to do an about turn & get back to Grandpa. But not before pausing to study the edge-of-the-rock-based, hopeful technique of adults (mostly male) teaching kids (mostly male), all continually casting into the depths in the hope of at least a pollock for supper. Extended family members lay strewn around the flatter rocks close by with liquid refreshments, sandwiches & verbal support. The scent of sausages cooking on a disposable barbecue made me pause momentarily but my human said ‘ Not for you, Brufus’. And on we journeyed.

I’ve two songs to mention today. ‘More & More’ by Joe Dolan to start with, because this new life of mine just keeps on giving. But I also like the idea of ‘Ring My Bell’ by Anita Ward. In honour of the little Belle we met upon a bluff on a glorious August evening when the air surrounded us with contentment. Merely bluffing, she didn’t really mean to snap at me. 🎼🐾

Am I that easy to forget?

I’ve been feeling a bit forlorn these past couple of days since Missy & Hallie left, to be honest. Having the bed all to myself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be πŸ’€ However, I feigned much delight when herself made moves towards the 🚘. A change is as good as a rest as they say & it’s good to be outdoors even if it’s raining.

I spied a new ‘friend’ on the slipway as I arrived and we met half way. His name was Bob & he had the look of a British Bulldog

‘His tail is wagging so they should be fine’, chirped my human delightedly as we converged. (OMG she says that every day to one dog owner or another).

‘Bob doesn’t have a tail to wag’, replied the other lady, laughing.

Meanwhile, us canines were becoming acquainted in a doggie sort of way. I was liking what I smelled. Next thing I know, we’re moving in opposite directions as our humans take control and propel us in a guidance of their own choosing. I gazed longingly at his squat little bottom waddling upwards but had no choice but to follow ‘herself’ downhill!

The whale-like mounds of ocean weed had reduced slightly overnight but we still ran the risk of sinking or sliding. Once I had carried out my business & filled a poop-scoop-bag to the brim, we picked our steps carefully along towards Cove Two. Then!, just at the narrowest junction between the coves, up pops the gorgeous Ollie, a Cockapoo, in the company of his three humans.

‘His tail is wagging so they should be fine’, chirped my human delightedly. (OMG did I mention that she says that at least once every day). They proceeded to chat about rescue/surrender/breeding/crosses/size/temperament/training/freedom…… etc….. before parting company.

Cove Three is where I miss Missy and Hallie most. It’s difficult to muster up enthusiasm for running when I’ve no pal to chase or be chased by. An empty beach hasn’t quite the same appeal as a stick-fishing expedition. Nonetheless, I wandered about the place at a lesser speed than usual & found plenty to exercise my mind. For instance…what the heck happened this rock? Was it by human hand or ocean spray that these holes developed, I wonder?

Maybe Missy or Hallie left a coded message for me? Just then the rain became much heavier & we headed briskly back towards our transport.

Jim Reeves sang us home with ‘Am I that easy to forget?’🎢 And I had tears in my eyes wondering if my doggie companions of the last few weeks have forgotten me altogether πŸ™ 🐾

Stormy seas

Oh my!! Whilst the weather here has undergone a slight bit of a change, it’s nothing compared to the churning out at sea. The enormous mounds of seaweed which have landed in Cove One are testament to that. Beached whale amounts have surged in and many have been stranded above the tide line. The photos do not do them justice as it merely resembles seaweed covered rocks … but believe me when I tried to scamper on them I almost became submerged & disappeared.

Meantime, back at the residence, things have quietened down somewhat. Missy & Hallie have both gone homeπŸ™ so I am left to my own devices for a few days. I’m anticipating some doggie rest & recuperation time, with lots of spoiling & grooming, while listening to The Etta James version of ‘Stormy Weather’ on the boombox. 🎼

Watch this space!! 🐾🐾🐾

Tooting & warbling

Life can be so interesting here at times. We’ve had a variety of visitors in the past while so I’ve been too ‘occupied’ to be blogging.

Mmmm… Where to start?

Ok. The Dog World!

Missy & I had the best of beach boisterousness with numerous canines since my previous missive. But I’ll spare ye too much detail so as not to bore y’all. Alright so! -just two episodes.

Daisy, a rescue dog, who we met a few times had a rude awakening when she sniffed at Missy’s stick. Let’s just say it didn’t happen twice. πŸ˜‚

The following day, for the first time ever, the farmer’s collie dogs formed a welcoming party as we parked the car. The elder was a bit stiff & returned to base as soon as she heard her master calling. Little Meg, however, gamboled along with us as far as Cove 3. My favourite game of doggie tap & go ensued between herself & moi while Missy and the humans (plural) waddled & paddled & did some stick fishing exercises. Even when the humans paused for breakfast we furrowed our grooves in the virgin sand, making quite a mess in the process.

Pausing for breath I absorbed the sights & sounds of the morning, the sunlight dappling the tumbling cliff face, the dark rock, the shimmering seaweed, the dazzling water; the whoosh of a plane high in the sky, the gentle gurgling of the ebb & flow, the crunch of human feet on shells, the thunk of Missy’s stick as it occasionally landed short of its watery target, the babble of human chatter & chuckly laughter, numerous floating toots & avian warbles, followed by the more constant call of one bird in particular …. becoming very persistent actually! Turns out that was the whistling farmer coming looking for Meg. Seemingly she’s only a few months old & hasn’t learned how to correctly interpret the sounds of human summons yet. She was shortly being guided home on a short lead to resume ‘one man & his dog’ type lessons with the senior collie & her farmer.

And what do you think came on the radio in the 🚘 on the way home only ‘The Mexican Whistler’ by Roger Whittaker. How befitting 🎼🎢🐾

Apologies for the break in normal service…

We had human visitors (I think their names were Porschia & Austin Martin). The doggie bonus was that extra titbits at mealtime became a reality for the duration of their stay. Lovely people.

In our efforts as tourist guides we brought them to lots of places in the locality and therefore we met many, many dogs. Whoop, whoop!

I recall some of their names and their games. Poldark liked to play piggy-back with me. Jake preferred to chase. Tiny Boo wanted to hide beneath my belly until Missy gave him a barking to. Willy liked to paddle in the shallows beside me. And there were more, but way too many to mention here. All in all we had great fun.

We also met some human children who wanted to pet us. Orla was my favourite out of all of them. So gentle.

Every time we meet someone with somedog my human relates a version of my story. So much so that the novelty of my history …. surrender/rescue/lovely story/ awwww/ such a lucky boy/bless him/bless you/what age did you say?/lovely coat/ still behaving like a puppy!/ … is rapidly wearing off me.

And then, the day after the visitors left I had such a strange experience…the rain arrived. Our brown lawn turned orange and lost that crispy feeling. Now if I want to scratch my back, I go slip-sliding down the garden’s slimey slope in an unsatisfactory & clumsy-looking comedy of errors. My human took one look at my efforts yesterday, chuckled & said …

‘You are just going to have to get used to a new normal, Brufus!’

We’ll see!

‘Slip Slidin’ Away’ by Paul Simon is my song of the day today 🎢🐾