The Further Adventures of Frodo the Faller – an overnight stay

The dogs had minced turkey for breakfast yesterday morning. It’s not something they’ve eaten before and I thought it would be a pleasant change. Gus wasn’t very keen on it and kept looking round to see if there were something more appetising. Jenna finished hers happily and wanted to help Frodo with his but he didn’t require her assistance. Then, fed, watered, medicated (Frodo) and comfortable, they all settled down for a well-earned nap.

When supper time came they all followed me into the kitchen, expectation etched on their faces. I produced more turkey mince and Jenna tucked in. Gus looked rather disgusted then ate it but Frodo sniffed it and turned away. This is a most unusual reaction from perhaps the greediest dog I’ve ever known so I tried him again. No, he wasn’t at all interested so I decided to leave it. 

Dogs are like children – when they’re hungry enough, they’ll eat, and missing one meal does no lasting damage. However, he needed his medicine. As usual, I proffered it in peanut butter but he wouldn’t take it. I looked more closely at him. He was wagging his tail and appeared quite normal except that he looked rather portly. I knew he hadn’t been scavenging so watched him for a while. It became apparent that the lumpy stomach was not lessening in girth and it definitely wasn’t as it should be. Though it wasn’t drum tight both Barry and I began to suspect that the cause might be the onset of gastric torsion so we made an urgent appointment and took Frodo to the vets.

In the reception area at 17:30 Frodo continued to wag his tail and point his nose to the exit. When Phil-the-Vet called us in Frodo attempted to leave and once we were in the consulting room he turned to face the door, his intention to depart being apparent to all. The tail didn’t stop wagging and he didn’t seem to be in pain. Phil-the-Vet’s diagnosis confirmed our suspicions and instead of returning home with us, Frodo was taken in for surgery. By 18:55 he was in recovery, his stomach having been untwisted and a stitch put in to prevent it happening again.

It’s almost a year to the day that Buddy underwent the same procedure, though the onset of his condition was much more rapid and dangerous. He enjoyed the vets’ hospitality for three days and nights. Frodo is coming home tonight. Phil-the-Vet phoned this morning to update us and said that Frodo was chirpy and ready to leave but that they would keep him in for observation for the day. We wondered just what he meant by ‘chirpy’. Frodo is a great groaner and persists until he gets what he wants. I just hope he’s not howling! We shall find out later.

It felt odd to walk last evening without my Velcro dog at my side!

My World Tuesday

Snow falls, giving everything a starkly stunning aspect. The air is as sharp and crisp as the snow crunching underfoot.

Outside the front door our corkscrew hazel (avellana corylus contorta) wears a thick coat of snow but the catkins hang down, ready to display their glory in a few short months’ time.

In the forest the dogs trot soundlessly, seeming to enjoy the sensation of the soft coldness beneath their paws. The scents are pungent to their sensitive noses.   

The sun breaks through the white-grey clouds to garland the tree tops with a lemon-gold crown. It contrasts strangely with the pure white snow.

Suddenly, we realise that the sun has claimed some trees as its own and covered them in gold.

A little further on it is as though we have chanced upon a magical kingdom, glowing within its icy boundaries. A warm hand has touched this region, a reminder of times past and yet to come.

The sky is huge  . . .

 . . . the trees loom and we are made sensible of our insignificance.

A dog’s –eye view . . .

. . . and Jenna wonders how long it will be before the snow and ice melt and she can swim again. A shrewd Labrador, she knows better than to attempt to walk on the pond’s unusual surface . . .

. . . but she and Gus dive enthusiastically into the undergrowth to retrieve their Kong while Frodo inspects an interesting sniff.

They emerge with a dredging of snow on their backs, looking like reverse Dalmatians before they vigorously shake themselves free.

Thanks go to the My World team who host this weekly meme. Click here to see more views of the world around the globe.

All is peaceful

The dogs entered into the Hallowe'en spirit by playing their own version of bobbing for apples - in this case, bobbing for the Kong, which has a habit of eluding their champing jaws. Foxy's telling Tia to hurry up and join in the fun.

It was raining when we set out for our walk this afternoon. It matters little whether the sun is blazing or the heavens are weeping as I always finish up rather damp around the edges. This is because I am the Kong flinger and Barry is the photographer and the Kong is flung into every pond we pass to be retrieved by exuberant Labradors who then return to me and shake vigorously to rid themselves of the prodigious volumes of water they have each acquired. In order for Barry to achieve the best possible two thousand or so photographs that he takes every day (I exaggerate – it’s only around two or three hundred) I am ordered instructed asked to hurl the Kong many, many times with the result that I am fairly well showered in a short space of time.

Come on, keep up!

And round we go again!

Quick! Run behind Janice . . .

The bits of me the dogs don’t manage to soak  byshaking are dealt with as Gus plays ‘I’ve got the Kong – catch me if you can’ and they all hurtle behind me, brushing against my legs as they go. I say ‘brushing’ – it’s  more like slapping, rather like running the gauntlet, only in this instance the victim (me) stands still and the gauntlet runs past. It is only a matter of time before I am knocked off my feet one of these days and into the chilly water. It’s all good clean fun! Actually, it’s rather muddy but ‘It’s all good dirty fun’ gives quite the wrong impression.

Frodo enters the water for a sedate swim and then sidles up and leans against me, thus ensuring that he has done his bit in the ‘Let’s get Janice wet’ game. All of this is recorded for posterity, at least until I edit the photographs.

The journey home with five tired dogs is much quieter than the outward leg and we persuade ourselves that the rest of the day will pass quietly, but no, the dogs soon start to campaign for supper. As we go through the front door they are waiting expectantly at the patio door at the rear of the house – this is our attempt to minimise the muddy paw prints. It doesn’t work, of course, and the Turtle mat inside the door just isn’t up to the job of absorbing moisture from twenty eager feet. I smile rather sadly when I see the advertisements for Turtle mats and the glowing recommendations from satisfied customers, all of whom seem to have large dogs and pristine floors. How do they manage that? I put down two mats, end to end, and still the evidence of dogs passing through is clear for all to see. Most of the time it’s only Barry and me to see it, but I’m sure you get the general idea.

Once back inside, any remaining doggy sogginess is meticulously deposited on the furniture. I don’t spend my entire life doing laundry but sometimes it feels like it as I load the washing machine with yet another doggily-decorated throw or mat.

I make tea and toast but thoughts of relaxation are banished as the dogs canvass for scraps, which they’re not allowed but get anyway from Barry. They know, however, that they have not had their just deserts and employ different strategies to attain them. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that they must wait because it’s not good for them to eat immediately after exercise – they take no notice and after all, perhaps they’re right. Wild dogs and wolves chase their prey, sometimes for extended periods. Having captured their meal they don’t then lie down for half an hour to rest before eating.

Winston is letting me know that he hasn’t liked being left alone and that he too is hungry. He sits on the arm of my chair, gently batting Frodo’s nose with a soft paw. Frodo is the lead singer in the ensemble and sets up a monotonous three-note tune of G#, D# and E (above middle C on the piano) which is repeated endlessly as he edges closer and closer to me. Winston occasionally says ‘Waahh’ in a glissando an octave higher. Jenna sits on the footstool and looks at me beseechingly. Foxy sits at my feet and stares unblinkingly at me with her beautiful, soft brown eyes and Tia and Gus are close by, watchful but silent. I am surrounded!

Any slight movement from me which might indicate that supper is imminent causes a canine (and feline) tsunami. Eventually, of course, I get out the bowls and provisions and feed the starving multitude. Winston, sniffing carefully before attempting to eat, dines daintily and decorously. A cat’s digestion is less forgiving than a dog’s and mistakes can be fatal. On the other hand, the dogs tear into their meals without a second glance and everything’s gone in a trice. Frodo likes to shake his food thoroughly, to make sure it’s dead, I suppose, thus embellishing walls and cupboards with an attractive patina of meat – well, blood, really. I mop it up and give thanks for my hardworking washing machine.

Finally, peace is restored and the animals sleep. Now, what shall we have for supper? 

I'm linking to That's My World Tuesday. Click here to see other people's worlds

The Further Adventures of Frodo the Faller - OUCH!

About twenty years ago a bypass was built to circumvent the village. We used to ride our bikes along it with our youngest daughter before it was finished. We wouldn’t attempt that now with the volume and speed of traffic that thunders along it.

Though the bypass may have been advantageous for the local traders and pedestrians, it bisected the forest and to reach the larger area it became necessary to go through an echoing underpass which local graffiti artists have used as a canvas. It’s a long time since we travelled into the further forest, since the last three years have involved elderly dogs, first Dominie, and then Buddy, requiring shorter walks and more attention at home.

It was a beautiful day on Sunday so we went for a long walk into the remoter reaches of Crowthorne (properly Windsor) Forest and on into Swinley Forest. We decided not to take any retrievable toys for Jenna and Gus and they thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity for new sniffs, sights and sounds. 

We rambled through Silver Birch avenues and rides of Sweet Chestnut, past Larches and Scots Pines and across heather-carpeted heathland.

Eventually we reached a favourite spot, a tree-shaded lake of sandy-bottomed clean water. The dogs gratefully swam into it and the Labradors spent an agreeable time retrieving large branches. 

Frodo was happy to bathe and drink and practice his own form of retrieving, which involved the small bone-shaped biscuits I had taken out with me.

We were returning along the Devil’s Highway when Gus yelped and came to me in pain and fright, holding up his left hind leg. Barry and I looked but could see no obvious damage and after reassurance Gus trotted off and was soon absorbed by more interesting fascinations. We speculated briefly whether an adder had been involved but convinced ourselves that that was probably not the case. We were a long way from home and the consequences of him suffering a snake bite were not to be relished.

He soon became engaged with a large branch which he periodically stopped to chew, reducing its weight little by little.

We had reached the ‘home side’ of the forest, but were still some three miles from the car, when Frodo suddenly yelped and held up his left hind leg. Again, we looked but could see no injury and supposed that the increasingly solid Gus might have barged into him. We hoped that Frodo might walk off the pain and indeed this appeared to be the case.

However, in the ensuing hours after arriving home, there were several occasions when Frodo cried out, usually when he was twisting in some way, so we thought he might have pulled a muscle. On one occasion he became so distressed when trying to get out of his bed that he had a partial seizure.

When Monday dawned bright and beautiful, Frodo remained at home with me while Barry took Jenna and Gus out. We felt that rest, warmth and as little movement as possible would help him to heal. By Tuesday he seemed a little better, though still inclined to shriek when his back legs became entangled or twisted. Once again, he stayed with me while the others went out. The fact that he didn’t complain or attempt to go with them was an indication that all was not well. Finally, a great screech of pain while he was in the garden convinced us that veterinary intervention was required so off he went to see Phil-the-Vet, the orthopaedic specialist. I feared the worst, expecting hip or back problems, which had made the last months for Dominie and Buddy so difficult, even though Frodo is still quite young, but it transpired that he had strained a muscle and that an analgesic was all that was required.

Yesterday, Wednesday, he protested bitterly when Barry took the others out, grizzling the whole time until they returned and it was obvious that he was feeling much better.  So today we went out in the cold, brilliant weather for a short amble. Frodo was supposed to be on a lead but as he never leaves my side that was quite unnecessary. He had his habitual bathe and then watched as the Labradors raced around in the long grass and in and out of the water. He was a much happier boy but yelped when it was supper time. It was almost twenty-four hours since his last pain-killer so it was not entirely unexpected.

Now, fed and watered, medicated and warm, he is sound asleep in his bed. Each day brings improvement and soon he will be his customary athletic self again. Not for nothing do we and our vets refer to Frodo as our ‘problem child.’

My World Tuesday - Wildmoor Heath

It may sound like something from Wuthering Heights but Wildmoor Heath rarely looks threatening and thunderous. An area of mixed woodland, heath and bog, it is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, one of three SSSIs within walking distance of our house. The Nature Reserve covers 99 hectares (just over 244½ acres) We took the dogs there yesterday, the first time we’ve visited for about a year. Between March and September rare birds breed on the lowland heath and dog walkers are asked to keep their dogs on leads or away from possible nesting sites.

We started and finished our walk through areas of tall, old sweet chestnut trees. 

The ground was littered with the prickly husks of chestnuts, some with two to four nuts still inside, others empty. It's a good idea to wear a hat at this time of year as the nuts regularly fall from the trees!

Many areas of the forest are grazed by Highland cattle and ponies and are fenced and accessed by kissing gates, stiles or weighted swinging gates. At the end of this ride there is a padlocked gate to allow access to forest maintenance vehicles. A pedestrian weighted gate is adjacent to it. This worried Gus, so he scrambled through a hole in the fence. By the time we had completed our walk he had become accustomed to following us through these strange devices. 

The next part of the forest was dominated by silver birches. Jenna and Gus didn't mind where they were so long as they could play. Frodo was at my side as usual, but enjoying all the sniffs.

First Jenna had the kong . . .

. . . then Gus carried it.

Shortly afterwards we went through another gate into a boggy area. A notice informed us that livestock were grazing in this part but though we saw signs that they had been there we didn't see any of them. On the right there is evidence of the fire last year that destroyed much of the habitat of Silver-studded Blue butterflies. It was believed that the butterflies would not have survived but a few males and females were observed and thus fears were allayed.

There’s a great deal of water . . .

 . . . which Gus and Jenna thoroughly appreciated. Frodo went in for a cooling paddle too.

The water table is very high – in places it is higher than the board walk but contained within a bog system . . .

. . . and draining into ditches.

Passing through yet another gate we walked alongside a fenced-off body of water, full of interest for botanists and entomologists. It gives way to heath and heather where roe deer are safe from questing dogs, although the deer easily leap the low fences and can be seen anywhere in this part of Berkshire.To the other side were puddles and ponds, all of which had to be splashed in by the dogs.

Simple benches are placed at various places, some overlooking valleys, others positioned to allow people to watch the world go by.

Boards are laid down at strategic points where the ground becomes very soggy. Wires are criss-crossed over the boards to give grip.

Out into more open countryside again we were struck once more by the colours. There are many shades of green and the bracken is mostly brown now. 

The leaves are beginning to change as they lose their chlorophyll and allow the reds and yellows to show.

The heather that was so vibrant just a short while ago has lost most of its colour. With the young Scots pine saplings and the tall bracken it is a wonderful place for Labradors to practise their retrieving skills . . .

 . . . and everywhere the spiders set their larders. 

Thanks go to the My World team for organising and hosting this meme. To see more corners of this wonderful world please click here.
I'm also linking to Watery Wednesday as this is quite a 'wet' post! Thank you to 2sweetnsaxy

Pet Pride Watch and Fetch!

 Watch the ball!

 They're off!

The race is on!

Tia is unlucky, Gus has a blue ball, Jenna's got a red ball. Will Foxy see the green ball?

Foxy searches underwater. 

Success! But this one is red too - did it change colour?
Thank you to Bozo and his human who host this meme.