Thursday, 13 August 2015

Dobson

Dobson came to live with us a little over two years ago.   We got him from a dog rescue centre, he'd been found wandering, starving, un-chipped and in dire need of neutering, he seemed to think anything which moved was fair game for a bonk!


Those things were easily fixed.   His psychological problems have been more of a challenge.  

He has learned to live with our grandchildren, the cats, the hens.   He romped through basic training and is normally very good off-lead, providing there are no major distractions.    He makes me laugh when he goes chasing after a rabbit, he runs about 50 yards, then decides it is not worth all that effort, so he turns to me, pleading with me to call him back.

He hates the rain and won't walk through even the tiniest puddle, never mind take a splash in the streams!

This poor dog is afraid of speeding traffic of all descriptions, really afraid, we have lots of speeding idiots around here.   Tractors, heavy wagons, motor bikes, horses even bicycles, he can cope as long as they don't speed past, some people take delight in his fear.

He is also terrified of gunshots (lots of idiots with guns out here) and fireworks, thunder...

Some days I have to almost drag him along this 100 yard stretch of lane.   It's worth the effort for once we can get off the lane we have barley fields and the old railway line to explore.  He loves it, he becomes a happy and relaxed dog.

Until we begin the long trek home, all 100 yards of it.



Queen Mab, our speckledy hen has been missing for quite a few days now.  She went all broody and wouldn't be dissuaded,  she took herself off in a huff.   We scoured the woodland, searched high and low - feared for her safety.  We know there are foxes about.

In desperation, I asked Dobson to "find Mab" - he bounded off and scrabbled at an area to the side of the hen house.   Sure enough, there she was, she'd found secluded space and had fallen down deep inside a very narrow, high sided carton.   We would never have found her.

She was desperately thirsty, very cross, very smelly and still very broody.

Mab is now residing in her own little palace.   No comforts, no box, basic shelter with food and water.   The other hens can see her and she them, but that is all.

I'll let you know how she gets on.

Well done, Dobson!   Definitely a Bonio moment.





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