People tell me Springer Spaniels are ‘all weather dogs’ ready for the off what ever the conditions. But when I opened the door this morning to let Spud out for a pee, he took one look at the raging storm and sat his bum down firmly on the door mat and shot me a ‘I’m not going out in that!’ sort of look.
It was lashing with rain and blowing a gale and not weather to turn a dog out in; but on the wind I could hear a mans voice, shouting; I couldn’t pick out the words. I called Tom in for a second opinion, yes, he could hear it too, we decided none of their neighbours would be out for leisure or pleasure in such weather conditions, so who was it? Well it could have been a fellrunner or a walker, after all Mr Uhdd was out, competing in a race (it’s what we expect of him what ever the weather). We decide to investigate, what if someone was lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stile and we’d simply shut the door on them? Tom pulled his dressing gown tight and announced he would get the binoculars and look from the bedroom window, whilst I donned my little red Welly boots and full waterproofs and set off down the field.
From the bottom of our field I could see what the problem was, a couple of fields away a neighbouring farmer was trying to get his Border Collie to round up the sheep, it was far more interested in staying in the back of the Landrover out of the rain and wind than it was rounding up sheep, very sensible dogs, very sensible, I trudged back up the field. A little while later it wasn’t just my dripping coat that made a puddle on the kitchen floor.
The storm knocked off the remaining leaves from the trees, it’s just the smoke bush in the garden that is hanging on to it’s glorious colour.