Aug. 15th, 2017 12:44 pm
bunn: (canoeing)

Someone out searching for Brythen found his body this morning.  He was in a field we had searched but in the middle where the long grass hid him.  I think he must have jumped into the field after a deer and had a heart attack almost immediately.

At least I know.   I've been out searching basically since Sunday and so have huge numbers of other people who all turned out to help.  People came from all around and drove up from Plymouth to help search and his poster was shared all over the country in case someone had stolen him.  I just wish, I wish they had found him alive.  

I'm trying to tell myself that it is better to know, and better to go quickly.  I should have done better keeping him safe. 

bunn: (Skagos)
These photos have been lurking on my camera card since my birthday a couple of weeks back.   We had a trip up to the North coast of Cornwall for a change, and went up a cliff.

Read more... )
bunn: (Logres)
We decided to go over to Mount Edgecumbe on Saturday, since the weather forecast was good.  Of course, when Saturday arrived, it was snowing, but we thought let's go anyway.  And in fact it was quite pleasant down by the sea, although it would have been a sunnier day today.  Here's the folly and Drake's Island and Plymouth in the background.

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bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)
Pp let Rosie out into the garden for her late-night pee.  20 seconds later I hear barking growling and snarling in the garden, but by the time I had got over there, there was silence, and before I could find some shoes, she came hurtling back in again, with a cut on her nose and smelling VERY STRONGLY of some animal musk.

It doesn't smell like fox, so after some thought, I conclude that Rosie has probably encountered a badger in the garden.  Thank goodness she got away with only a cut.

Go AWAY badgers!   Rabbits in the garden I can tolerate, but I draw the line at carnivores with honking big claws. 
bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)

Long ago, I was in Haye-on-Wye on what proved to be a bitterly cold and icy day.   Most of the shops in Haye-on-Wye sell books and book-related items, but books will not keep you warm (well, maybe they will if you buy enough of them to build yourself a house, but I was on holiday and therefore not inclined towards a longterm building project.)

But there was one shop selling hand-made woollen crafty items, and so I flung myself into it with gratitude, and, throwing economy to the wind in the interest of not actually freezing to death, I  purchased several items (knitted, if I remember rightly by Marches Matrons from Alpaca-wool).  I think I bought a scarf,  a pair of mittens, and this hat.  I am not sure what I did with the other items, but I still have the hat.   Usually I wear it with the flower at the back, because I feel the flower is somehow a bit too much on me.  Rosie, however, carries it off with style.
bunn: (Rosie Runs)

Because of Rosie's long aristocratic nose, and tendency to look down it disdainfully, her elegant form, her pointed ears and ability to float lightly over muddy ground,  I said that Rosie must be an Elf Princess.  After some discussion with Pp, we agreed that if Rosie was a Middle Earth Elf Princess, she would be Aredhel, White Lady of the Noldor.   Because Aredhel is the princess notable for not staying where she is told to, but instead unwisely bogging off and doing her own thing, with unpredictable results.

So here is Rosie, imagining herself as Aredhel. 
bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)
I spent two hours yesterday walking, and then running through increasingly darkening woodland in woeful pursuit of Rosie Roo, who had somehow lost me.

In the woods, where black shapes of trees stood starkly against the darkening sky, strange noises came out of the dark: most notably a vast grumbling hissing rumble which I cannot explain except by introducing a dragon.
I became convinced Rosie had somehow got into a field and had been trompled by cows, for the cows were wild and frisky and kept gallopping about madly in the manner of cows that have seen a dog and trompled it.   But Brythen assured me that all would be well.  I was covered in mud, soaking wet and well scratched by this time so it was all very hurt/comfort.

At last, we heard a terrible unearthly wailing upon the mire, which turned out to be the missing hound, who had finally looked around and realised I was no longer behind her, and therefore believed I had abandoned her.  She was very pleased to see me, when Brythen and I finally staggered out of the bushes (well, I staggered.  Brythen pranced, strong, elegant and not even muddy).
If there is a next time, I am just going straight back to the car, since clearly she has no difficulty finding her way back there on her own, and she, too, was not even particularly muddy. She stood there glowing in the moonlight like a unicorn, only prettier.

Whoever is scripting this stuff seems to have absolutely no concern for realism or indeed my dignity.
bunn: (canoeing)
I thought the one she took was by far the best.  Unlike many dogs, Rosie loves being in photos.
bunn: (bunny)
Recently, Rosie has started spending time at the top of the steps that lead to the back garden. This seemed odd: usually my dogs utterly scorn our back garden, instead insisting that they must be taken to more exciting locations where there is more to sniff: people, dogs, foxes, sheep, Victoria Sponge Cake, deer etc.   Rosie will go out of the back door a distance of about four feet, to the spot where I am required to place a dog bed in the position where it will catch the sun.  And Brythen will occasionally go out for just long enough to dig madly and destroy the lawn, then come gallumphing back in joyfully with muddy feet all over the carpet.Read more... )

Will Rosie Roo catch a rabbit and the other rabbits flee in terror?  Or will I come down one morning to find the rabbits have joined us inside the house and are all curled up with cats, lurchers etc, all together on the hearthrug...?  Who knows. 
bunn: (Brythen)
Tragically it is very very hot, and  I have drunk too much beer so my dog walking is likely to be erratic.

But I typed this post eventually with all the letters in order so I think that proves I am now sober enough to be In Charge of Hounds.

Remains to be seen if I shall make it home or go to sleep in a hedge 
bunn: (Beach)
I ran out of space on my camera memory card at the beach yesterday.  This is not necessarily a bad thing, since at the moment my camera is a bit crippled.  I dropped it on the path and the view-screen bit cracked.  It still works but it has a big starburst in one corner which does make it a bit hard  to focus.  I think it should be possible to remove the broken screen part of the device and replace it, but I haven't done anything about that yet.   Anyway, I have almost cleared out my camera card and here are a few shots from it.

A couple of weeks ago we went up onto Dartmoor, intending to have a cream tea at the Two Bridges Hotel.  But it was closed for a wedding.  So instead we parked at Pork Hill and walked up Cox Tor with the hounds.  Here is Pp when I made him look after all the hounds so I could take photos.  I suspect Pp of being secretly pleased I dropped my camera so there will be fewer moments like this one :-D
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bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)
Sometimes it seems like a good idea to go into town for a walk for a change.  Rosie likes these walks.  They are exciting, even though they aren't allowed off the lead.

The squirrels of Tavistock are many, fat and fearless.   The park is full of lime trees and at the moment they are in bloom, filling the park with scent and the sound of happy bees. 
bunn: (Beach)
It was too hot to reallly walk properly again.  I should get into the habit of going later, but the dogs aren't keen on that.   I wished I'd worn waterproof shoes rather than wellies so I could go paddling properly  (It's not deep enough here to swim).  I waded in anyway and enjoyed the river.   Oh!  and I saw a slow-worm on my way down to the river, basking peacefully on the sandy path in the sunshine.  The dogs all assumed he was a twig and ignored him, but he did not wish to be photographed and made off when I got the camera out.
Read more... )


Jul. 3rd, 2016 10:35 pm
bunn: (Beach)
Oddly tired at the moment.  Slept a lot this weekend, without really taking the edge off it.  Then tried to work, to catch up a bit on work not done last week, with not much success.  Meh again.  Let me try rummaging in my camera card, maybe that will be more successful.

Small triumph: the nasturtium tropoleum that I planted a few years ago still likes the garden, and has thrown up a string of brilliantly red flowers.  It has a reputation as a picky plant, so I'm pleased it likes it well enough to be fighting the rest of the garden successfully. Read more... )

Foster Carlos has also gone flomp. His dog bed technique has improved a lot since he first arrived and he has gone from flopping randomly over the edge of the dog bed to fitting himself inside it quite neatly.
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bunn: (Brythen)
I wasn't sure if foster Carlos would be able to manage a proper run at his age, after eleven years onlead, and a touch of arthritis.  But he gave it a good go.

Gorgeous evening, and of course I had not bothered to bring my proper camera, as it had been so grey most of the day.  But I took a few phonepics.  
Read more... )
bunn: (dog knotwork)
 Foster dog woke me early on Sunday, so decided to take a trip down to the beach before the day got too hot
On the way home, I noticed these fields planted by some unsung artist of a farmer.  It is blue flax, otherwise known as linseed, stretching all the way to the skyline.

And here are a few photos of foster Carlos.

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bunn: (Baying)
He was very stressed when he arrived and I spent most of last night trying to stop him barking constantly and whining miserably, but today he is much happier.   He is 12, and needs a new home because his owner has family medical issues that make dog ownership impractical. He was called Elvis, but Pp decided he looked like a jackal, and named him Carlos.  He doesn't seem to answer to either name so it's not much odds really.

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bunn: (Az & Pony)
There was a change to the law recently which said that all dogs in the UK must be microchipped, and that the microchip record must contain the details of the current owner.  This came as a nasty surprise to the many dog rescues which had been keeping all the dogs they rehomed, microchipped with their own details, and consequently had thousands of dogs microchipped with one set of contact details - but the law was well overdue.

Dog rescues (in my opinion, and I have some experience with them) typically do not have the internal data management systems in place to keep in touch with all their adopters, let alone being able to update the contact records when the new owners move or go on holiday.Read more... )Read more... )


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