Newsletter – August 2023
Dear Irish Terrier Friends
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the many many cards and letters of sympathy remembering Margo. Grief is a devil to manage, but time passes and we stumble on!
I heard myself laugh this morning so perhaps the worst is over.
Libbs and Maryb are delighted with the string of visitors who have been to stay. They feel that every bed in the house should be occupied and they make round the clock inspections to be sure that everyone is comfortable and all’s right with the world.
Friends included a fair number of doggy visitors and I have to admit that some were more enjoyable than others. Miss Libbs is always kind and polite but Maryb has her own set of house rules which need to be learned quickly.
The first rule . . .
All tennis balls are mine OK?
Remember I’m the fastest runner and you could learn from my airborne leaps.
Why don’t you know that ‘shush’ means shut and and stop barking so loudly.
And by the way we don’t share our food, so don’t hang around. We know perfectly well that you were fed at breakfast.
She’s a real little bossy boots and even objects to my stealing the odd ball to throw at the confounded magpie who lodges in the garden.
Having played cricket (over arm bowler at the age of 5) my aim is still fairly accurate and he flies for his life. He always come back at dusk and I do worry for the fledglings.
I’m tired of apologising for the dreadful weather – little dashes of sunshine followed by torrents of rain. We’ve even had the heating turned on in the evenings, the girls reconnected with all their favourite hotspots. We have a new wooly carpet in the hall – bliss to roll on and watch the front door. Everyone is welcome and no one must be missed.
We’ve hardly used the garden furniture this summer with the exception of Miss Mb, she walks on top of it all like a climbing frame and perches on the table tops to make sure she can spot any sign of activity in the garden.
Wood pigeons are fair game and we do have a rather friendly squirrel.
No one must be ignored even if they’re leaning on the gate.
I hear snippets of conversations “Now darlings, I’d love to come in but you might knock me over by mistake”
We’ve had a huge batch of letters expressing dismay for this new fangled form of ‘dog walking’. It seems to entail packing dogs into a van (I’ve heard up to 15 at a time) and taking them to an enclosed space which they like to describe as a field, fenced for the dogs’ safety.
Most of the letters express such anger that we don’t feel able to quote them precisely, but here are a few examples . . .
“Who are these self styled dog walkers?”
“Walking surely implies putting one foot in front of the other.”
“No dog should be penned.”
“They are not herd animals grazing together.”
“How long does it take to reach the so called field?” “When dogs reach the age of 8 they seldom romp around, so why pretend they will all play together?”
“What about levels of infection in a hot or cold over crowded van?”
And this is the favourite comment . . .
“If you can’t give your dog at least one good hour and a half to two hours walking and playing, then for God’s sake, have a cat.”
Please let us know if you have any experience of this growing practice and we can decide what can be done, but we need to have the data before we ask for some sort of investigation.
My main concern is the sadness for those dogs who will never know the joy of a proper ‘old fashioned walkies’.
We all know it is the high point of every dog’s day. I think there is a gathering storm but we need to know the facts.
I went to the New Forest show, but left the girls at home.
We used to have a huge dog show as well as the donkeys, ponies and horses but it seems to have been dropped this year.
A dear friend was showing her beautiful Fell pony called Lass. She’s a little beauty and once at the Windsor show, beat the Queen’s much loved Emma!
Lass came 2nd (well a local pony won of course) but the standard was very high indeed.
I kept stroking her and couldn’t help saying “She doesn’t smell quite horsey enough for me – she had been groomed to a whisker.” But Bibbs and Maryb were intrigued by the smell on my hands with a look of whatever-is-this on their faces.
The garden has loved the rain there are plenty of flowers, not least the dahlias but the roses too – some blooming for the 2nd or even 3rd time.
I say to them all what clever girls you are.
I’m off to France tomorrow to stay with Derek and Richard and the darling Daisy.
I know she’ll wonder why I’ve left L and Mb behind – they are all such very good friends.
Marie and her partner Jamie are moving in here to look after them and I know there will be lots of fun and games.
I will have to try hard to be cheerful and hope there will be no unwanted tears. One last thing I would like to say and that is a huge thank you to Jill Looker for her loving sympathy and kindness. She feels the souls of dogs and I have been greatly comforted.
With my love to you all, and that includes of course, our ‘best beloveds’
