Here’s another pile of dogs that I took out during this morning’s volunteer dog walking session at Bleakholt, including a surprise bundle at the end of the post.
Pudding had already gone out by the time I arrived, so my first ‘client’ was this handsome feller, name of FLACK. He was a smasher. Lively without being overbearing, interested without trying to haul me off my feet, and rather hypnotised by horses (see right). I’m pleased to tell you that he will be off to a new home next week, bless his lovely heart.
Next up was a lady with all the energy in the world inside her, bursting to get out. Meet RUBY, who looks calm enough in this photograph, I admit. That was the only time I got her to keep still, however. For 35 minutes she hauled me around the lanes, seeing off a waggy-tailed farm dog that came to say hello with a huge RROWFF!
Ah now, you met SAFFRON yesterday, the nervous, skittish little lady with the curly tail. She was a little less nervous with me today, presumably having learned my smell (bot something I recommend that you ever do). That didn’t stop her constantly trying to trick me into taking her back to Bleakholt using what she obviously considered a foolproof trick. It goes like this: 1. Stop for a wee, 2. Move imperceptibly;y around while weeing so that Beardy Bloke doesn’t notice, 3. Keep inching around while ‘covering’ the wee with invisible earth, 4. Set off in the opposite direction.
This magnificent lad amongst the buttercups is LEO, a huge, but not fat, Doberman. You can’t really tell from the photo, but he really was tall. Lithe with it, to, and strong. Strong as he obviously was, he didn’t pull on the lead, or haul me every which way like Ruby did. He was well-behaved, and a perfect gentleman when we passed other dogs. He’ll be a great dog for anyone that owns a mansion.
OK, I promised you a surprise bundle, and here they are. Five little Boxer pups, just arrived in a van. I don’t know their story, sorry, as anyone I could see to ask was right in the middle of something else. So I went home for a pastie instead. Two and a half hours of brisk walking leads to an undeniable craving for pasties.
Oh, and yes, Todd (see yesterday’s post) has lived with cats and is four years old. However, the staff at Bleakholt are recommending he goes to live with a family used to Collies, as his behaviour is very collie-esque – he protects his food, nipping anyone who comes near, for example. Also, my common sense has prevailed – we WILL wait until after Scotland to begin looking for OUR dog. If nothing else, I’m learning that there’s a lot of lovely dogs that pass through Bleakholt. We’ll find one just right for us eventually.