BLUE FOOT
Sun 24 October 2010
A
couple of weeks ago, we had a weekend in The Lake District. It was
the occasion of the annual Wainwright Memorial Lecture, held at
Rheged, near Penrith. As usual, a Society walk preceded that main
event and on this occasion it was a walk from Glenridding up to the
summit of Birkhouse Moor, a new fell for
Beattie.
A did not accompany us as
she has been feeling under the weather lately and decided to spend
the day in Penrith (spend, being the operative word!). Beattie and
I completed the walk, and it was only on returning to the car park
that A noticed there was a
large red lump on Beattie’s foot between two of her claws. I had
not noticed anything unusual on the walk and Beattie showed no signs
of lameness.
On our
return home, I took her to the vet, who prescribed antibiotics and
told me that he suspected a foreign body in her foot that had made
it swell up like that; perhaps a grass seed. I was to bring her
back if the swelling did not subside.
After
a week, there was no noticeable difference, so last Monday I
returned to the vet, who said her would open up the cyst under
anaesthetic. On Friday, Beattie went under the knife and I
collected her in the afternoon. The vet had telephoned to say that
he could find nothing in her foot, but he had flushed out the wound
and he hoped it would now heal. Her foot had been bound in a blue
dressing making her leg look rather like a blue chicken drumstick!
Since
she has been home, we have kept her quiet with short excursions out
into the garden. At first, she ran around on three legs, but today
has been able to put weight on her blue foot. We have to keep the
dressing dry so she has been going outside with cling film wrapping
over her dressing, and that does seem to be doing the trick!
Tomorrow, she has an appointment with the nurse to remove the
dressing and another visit to the vet on Wednesday. I hope that it
is the end of her troubles, for now! Back
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MISSING – THE ACTUAL STORY!
Sun 24 October 2010
At
last, I have found the time to relate this story. As I remember the
incident took place a couple of days before the end of the summer
term. I took Beattie out
for a walk that has become a regular, a circuit starting and
finishing at the village of Lound. Most of this walk can be done
off-lead and Beattie had been rather too used to taking little
detours off into the fields at the side of the path. Only
occasionally was it a problem and that was when she disappeared into
standing crops and could not be seen.
This
was exactly what happened on this day. We had not long started our
walk when I was suddenly aware she was not with me anymore. I
retraced my steps to a gap in the hedge and I knew she was after the
game when she put up a pheasant! She reappeared, briefly, as she
leapt up above the barley, and that was the last I saw of her. I
waited there for about half an hour, calling at regular intervals,
but she had disappeared.
As
school was now finished for the day, I telephoned
A and told her the story.
She drove over to help look for Beattie. When she arrived, Beattie
had been missing for about an hour.
A walked back into the
village, whilst I crossed two fields to the point where the walk
ends. I met a couple of people and told them the story, but they
had nothing to report.
We
decided that the best course of action would be for us to do the
walk in opposite directions, in case Beattie was looking for me! By
now, she had been lost for nearly two hours and we were both really
worried about her; the trouble being that Beattie would go with
anybody!
The
last part of the walk is through a wood and as I walked uphill
through the trees, I called out her name without much hope of a
response. Imagine my surprise and pleasure as I topped a rise and
saw a familiar figure trotting towards me, apparently quite
unconcerned! Yes, it was Beattie! She must have walked the whole
circuit on her own. I had her lead on as quick as lightning and
then telephoned A with the
good news.
I
wondered what she had been thinking as she made her way round the
walk. Was she worried that she could not find me? Did she think
she had been abandoned? It’s at times like this that I wish my pet
could talk.
But
then, again, perhaps I would not want to know … Back
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MISSING
Fri 10 September 2010
I feel
that a belated apology is due to any readers who have been logging
on during the past four months, only to discover that the diary has
lain disused and neglected. It amazes me that I ever found any time
to do any work at all before I retired as I seem to have little time
to spare and life seems to get busier rather than the reverse.
This
summer has been particularly hectic. Some readers may know that
since 2002 I have been a member of
The
Wainwright Society, and last December, I was asked to join the
Committee in my role as Global Moderator of the
Wainwright Society Forum. Sounds a very grand title, but,
basically, I monitor the posts that members put up for others to
read. In truth, the Forum is not one of those where members are
rude to each other and are just full of carping criticism. No,
our Forum was described by Eileen Jones in Cumbria magazine as,
‘one of the most delightful, and genteel forums to be found anywhere
on the world-wide web.’ Leaving a Cyber Footprint Eileen Jones
Cumbria magazine December 2009 p. 58
Then
in June this year, the Press and Publicity Officer stood down and I
took his place, which has meant more work in the shape of phone
calls, press releases, interviews with the media and so on. Not
that I am complaining, you understand. It’s very stimulating and
rewarding to be tackling something new, even though a radio
interview at six o’clock in the morning can be a daunting prospect!
As
well as all that activity, A
and I have spent most of our holidays in the Lake District, which
has curtailed my activity on the computer, much to A’s amusement as
she thinks of my computer rather like a dialysis machine. I have to
plug myself in for hours when we return home!!
Another problem was caused by a computer ‘crash’ that meant that I
had no access to the dialysis for a couple of weeks. Not a happy
situation, but one that has now been resolved.
In
short, the wanderer has returned and with a spare few minutes, is
managing to restart the diary. All this, and I haven’t even
mentioned Beattie. And
that was the point of the title of this piece. Well, perhaps I’ll
save that story for my next entry. Back
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Comment from Tracey Lilly
Glad
you are back. missed your blogs. Thank you, Tracey.
derek
Comment from
sablonneuse
When I read the title I had horrible visions
of Beattie going missing and you searching in vain. Thank
goodness I was wrong. Anyway, good to see you back and plugged
in again! xx Thank
you, Sandy. Horrible visions ........... derek
REVERTING TO TYPE
Sun 09 May 2010
We all
love our pets and think of them as members of the family. There are
times when, in our minds, we bestow upon them human attributes,
thinking of them as humans with the capacity for intelligent,
rational thought and displaying human emotions. These
anthropomorphic feelings about our pets are just fanciful thinking
on our part, and, sooner or later, something happens to remind us
that those pets we know and love are only just animals after all.
Take
yesterday, for example.
Beattie and I were doing one of our regular walks; so regular,
in fact, that Beattie now explores the local fields when off lead,
always on the lookout for something to chase. She spotted a couple
of pheasants in a wheat field and was off to investigate in a flash
before I could stop her. At this time of the year these birds are
raising young and I try to discourage her from running off. She
soon returned after a fruitless pursuit, and I decided that she
should be put on her lead to prevent any other mishaps. Besides, I
am sure that the gamekeeper would be rather upset to see his
precious birds being harassed by a small, grey terrier!
I like
to give Beattie as much freedom as possible when we are at home, as
she spends her walks on her lead when we are in the Lake District.
But I don’t want her being a nuisance to the local wildlife, so I
usually keep my eyes open for any likely distractions. The problem
is that when she decides she is going to run, she runs, and nothing
I can say will make any difference.
Our
way back lay through a wood, a haven for rabbits and game birds. I
kept her on a reasonably short lead but, even so, was unable to stop
her diving into the undergrowth at the side of the path. After a
snuffle, she emerged, and I could see she had something in her
jaws. I grabbed her and ordered her to ‘drop it’, which she did
reluctantly. Then I could see that she had hold of a pheasant
chick. Sadly, the chick had not survived, as it lay limp upon the
ground.
I
dragged Beattie away and was sorry that I had not anticipated the
event. But it had all happened as quick as lightning and I realised
I could have done nothing to prevent the incident. Beattie was
displaying again, that she was just a terrier dog with all her
predatory instincts finely tuned.
In
fact, she was just reverting to type! Back
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CHECK UP
Thu 12 Feb 2010
As
part of her membership of the Healthy Pet Club,
Beattie is entitled to a
twice-yearly health check. Last week, I received a letter advising
me of that fact and yesterday, I drove Beattie to the vet for the
dubious pleasure of a check up. I say dubious, because ever since
last year’s BAST test, she has walked through the door in fear and
trembling lest that happen again.
In
fact, this was not to be a pleasant visit either as she had to have
her annual Kennel Cough vaccination, which is administered up her
nose!!
We
were the first visitors and the surgery was quiet when we entered.
First task was to weigh her and she tipped the scales at 8.35 kg.
Once again, she had put weight on during the winter months. But she
will lose that when the Lake District walking season begins again.
As we
waited to be called in, Beattie was visibly shaking and her tail was
tucked right between her legs. No, she was not a happy dog! Even
the bright and cheery voice of the vet did little to arouse her
normal enthusiasm, as I had to pull her into the consulting room.
She endured rather than enjoyed the examination and I was the only
one pleased that she was pronounced sound in wind and limb.
Next
came the Kennel Cough vaccination and this is where the trouble
started. She decided she was not going to cooperate once she
realised what was involved and she tried desperately to hide under
my arm as Z advanced
towards her with the tube of liquid poised! After two or three
abortive efforts, Z took her away to be held by more experienced
hands than mine. Besides, Beattie knows that she can play up when
Master is present!
She
was returned quite quickly and could not wait to be out of that
room! Once back in the waiting room, she was back to her usual
self, doing her ‘cute dog’ act for anyone that was interested in
her.
It’s a
shame she does not enjoy her visits to the vet any more. Even with
dogs innocence is replaced by knowing … Back
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Comment from AT
Remind me to
show you how to use the clicker to get her to accept the KC
vaccine. I did it with my most cowardly dog and it worked!
I'll talk to you at Dog Club about it. derek
Comment from
sablonneuse
Poor Beattie. At least it was over fairly
quickly. Our cats hate going to the vet because they know it will
mean injections. Yes, Beattie is like that now! derek
FAIR GAME!
Sat 23 Jan 2010
A few
days ago, A and I enjoyed
a delicious game pie for our evening meal.
Beattie was lucky enough
to have a few leftovers for her tea and there is little doubt that
she relished the varied tastes of venison, pheasant and partridge!
The
next day, I walked Beattie across sodden fields on a familiar
route. She is no longer content to follow the path, but attracted
by all sorts of scents and diversions will delve into the hedgerows,
often exploring the adjacent field, knowing at all times my precise
location.
Today
was no different as she disappeared into the undergrowth. Moments
later, there was a loud chucking sound and a pheasant rose somewhat
ungainly from concealment. With a clatter of rapid wing beats
accompanied by a repeated kurruk, kurruk call, the bird
escaped Beattie’s clutches. Next to be flushed out was a snipe,
which fluttered away across the muddy furrows. And finally, a
partridge rose desperately into the air eager to escape the
attentions of an excited Bedlington!
What
fun Beattie was having today! There was no doubt in her mind that
those birds were fair game! Back
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Comment from
Little Old Me
She was trying to
'bring home the bacon' Something
like that! derek
Comment from
sablonneuse
Well now, it
sounds as though Beattie is behaving like a cat!
Yes, there are similarities!
derek
Comment from
JT
I hope you
didn't waste half of the pie like last time!!!! No! My
pies are a more realistic size, now. It was my first! derek
EXUBERANCE!
Mon 4 Jan 2010
There
is something about snow that causes
Beattie to react in a very
similar way to a young child when the first snowflakes are seen
falling from the sky. She can’t wait to get outside and hare around
in a state of frenzied excitement. It seems to me that the sub-zero
temperatures magnify all the normal everyday smells. And the snow
does, at least, reveal some of the evidence of other creatures that
light up her interest so much!
After
another snowfall overnight, I took Beattie out for one of our
regular walks over the fields yesterday morning. It was a lovely
bright, cold day; the sort that only tempts the real hardy souls
outside, the sort of day that leaves your feet freezing in your
boots at the end of the walk and very glad to pull on slippers and
drink gallons of hot tea.
But
for Beattie, the walk was sheer unadulterated joy as she pranced
about with the wet snow clinging to her legs and her not caring one
jot, seemingly impervious to the cold. In such conditions, snow is
there as a plaything, ready to be tossed about, or snuffled, or run
through, or rolled in or any manner of games that a dog can invent!
And
Master must be encouraged to join in the game by acting as a marker
to run around or as ‘it’ in a game of tag! And if Master will not
join in, then there us always a gloved hand that can be attacked in
a friendly sort of way until exasperation causes a reaction
resulting in a happy game of ‘chasing the tail’ (of the dog, that
is; a game that Beattie always wins)!
Snow
is a cause for sheer exuberance, and this winter, Beattie has had
more than a fair share of pleasure on snow-bound days!
Back
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Comment from
sablonneuse
Well that's it then, our youngest cat is
actually a dog! Your description of Beattie's antics reflect
Willow's behaviour when it snows. All the others sniff disdainfully,
perhaps try a paw but then come inside quickly and curl up by the
fire or on a radiator. Not Willow: she darts outside and leaps about
- even rolling in it - and she loves it if you throw snowballs at
her (gently though). It's definitely the snow that
does it, Sandy! derek
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