Day 9 | Date: July 13th, 2021 Time: 1544 - 1645 Steps: 8,152 |
Today was a day of tremendous adventure, which started off OK but didn’t go to plan! There was a window of opportunity to have a glorious long walk in the cool breeze. The only worry was the possibility of a rain shower.
We set off towards the combine harvester cemetery, but weirdly I was on my short lead, not the long line. I felt a strange sense of urgency so ran by the sheep dumplings and rabbit raisins; I didn't stop to eat one of them. Then, hallelujah when we got to the stile in the corner Sarah lifted me over and yippee!!! We were off to see the stream!
I legged it down the side of the cornfield and waited for Sarah to catch up. I walked alongside the hawthorn and could hear the buzz from the overhead electricity cables which makes my fur feel all riddled with static (we don't like them). The stream was purring as it ambled alongside me as I trotted ahead. I had to stop again and wait for Sarah but as she neared me I ran off again, giggling as I went, until I reached the wooden bridge where you guessed it. I waited once more for Sarah. It was so pleasant; I watched two kestrels rise from the corn and butterflies nose their way through the long grass; halcyon days. When she finally caught up with me, we crossed the bridge together. I didn’t care that I’d waited an age, nor that I was now boiling hot because I’d run super fast as I’d hopped and bopped through the thick carpet of clover which ran alongside the stream, I simply didn’t care! But then, disaster. They’d buried the stream. I could see it. I could smell it. I could heart it. I could almost taste it, but I couldn’t bloody drink it or paddle in it! The bank is now steep and high and covered in stinging nettles and even though we walked the length of it, there was no opening for me to get through. Worse still. You remember the sunshine I was talking about, well it was streaming from the sky onto us and was searing hot. That, my friends, is the closest to a stream I got. Humph! But, paint me yellow and call me sunshine, I was still happy (stole that line from a movie, I just love how happy sounds). I carried on skipping through the clover as we walked all the way round the field until we reached the road to home. It was hard going so I’m not without complaint. I had to have a lie down here and there (as well as a little roll in something disgusting smelling). I was hot, my feet ached, and we'd broken the usual rule of not walking in the heat. I’ll cut Sarah some slack though, as it was unexpected and unpredictable. The Alexa woman in a little box on the shelf had read us the weather recipe and Sarah had checked the Met Office and there was no mention of sunshine. But we lived to tell the tale, so what does it matter? Sarah gave me a cooling bath when we got in. I’ve had my meat and spinach and she had lemonade and a bowlful of nuts. She takes my breath away with what she considers tasty. Strange old bean, but I love her. It was still a fabulous walk, and it was the best distraction for me on what was quite a stressful day. My bestist friend Sally is an unwell dog today. She had to have an operation and now has what looks like a worm hanging out of her side. According to her mum it’s a special straw for the gunge to flow out of! Sounds gross, but I’m sure she’ll feel better if she knows you’re all thinking of her and sending her lots of head pats. Waggy tails to you all. I’m off for a kip x x x Sign up to receive the blog by email here