Thunderdogs

IMAG1642It was lovely to be at Bleakholt with a lead in my hand once more, after a few weeks off due to a manky ankle. First up was KEANO, whom you’ll remember from previous posts. He was on top form, full of fun with lots of interaction. Keano’s renowned for his love of sticks, or bottles, or wooden legs, or anything else he finds lying around. The stick he found today, though, was not so much lying around as attached to a tree. He spent a good three or four minutes heaving at the thing before finally succeeding in ripping it free. There he is on the left, with his prize. The thing with Keano is, don’t try to take his sticks off him. That way lies trouble. He’s OK if you swap a toy for it, mind.

IMAG1644Next, along came BROOKE, a big girl at Bleakholt for a short time only, before going back home next week. She’s very nervous and not fond of stepping out. Lovely temperament, though, so with a little occasional persuasion she came along happily. She really needs to lose some weight, when she’ll be a wonderful dog. In retrospect, I’m pleased that the thunderstorm did not arrive until after Brooke was back in her kennel. I’m not sure her nerves would have stood being out in that.

Instead, it was with lovely old FLACK in tow that I felt the first splot of rain on my head. Distant thunder soon became huge KERRAKs immediately overhead, with lightning forking down from above Edenfield and solid rain stair-rodding it onto our heads. We were both drenched in seconds, absolutely sodden by the time we found the shelter of a reasonably large tree. Not that it offered a lot of protection, such was the ferocity of the downpour. IMAG1647Flack, bless him, was completely unthrown by either deafening thunder or torrential monsoon, sitting by me and looking up occasionally as if to say “Shall we move yet, Beardy Bloke?” He’s looking a lot better now than he did immediately after his run-in with PUDDING a couple of weeks ago, don’t you think? Eventually the rain lessened into merely chucking it down, and we returned. Charlotte towelled us both down and the sun emerged over Holcombe Hill.

It’s good to be back.

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About wombat37

A Yorkshireman in the green hills of Lancashire, UK Not a real wombat, obviously, or typing would become an issue. I do have short legs and a hairy nose, however. Oh, & a distinctive smell.

Posted on July 29, 2013, in A brisk walk, bleakholt, Brooke, Dog walking, Dogs, Flack, Keano, Pudding, Rain, Weather. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Love reading about your dog walks. 🙂 A couple of days ago, my dog and I got caught in a downpour. He doesn't mind getting rain-soaked. Fortunately, I had him inside just before the thunderstorm started today as he is deathly afraid of thunder (also, fireworks, noisy engines and hot air balloons).

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  2. The thunder today was ear-splittingly loud. So grateful that Flack was completely calm throughout.

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