This poor dog of mine really doesn't like to get his feet wet. He flung himself backwards and dug his heels in, tail lowered and between his legs.
A passerby could have been forgiven for thinking that I was being mean to him.
In his opinion I was being very cruel, after all, I know that he doesn't like water, don't I?
The local fields, which we normally walk, are wet, wet, wet. The rain has come down and the local clay soil is very slippery and awash with muddy water.
I have a tendency to go base over apex in such conditions, so for both our sakes,
I was trying to be kind by walking him along our quiet lane to a much drier, local bridle path on slightly higher ground.
A short walk down to the watermill, up the hill and branch off to the right
along a green bridle lane.
Simple!
We finally made it this far, perhaps two or three hundred yards, it was hard work. I stopped and had a chat to the mill owner, and a local farmer. They were highly amused at the sight of me having to coax and cajole a dog to take a walk, their grins said it all. I'm used to it, I have been coaxing and encouraging Toby dog for over four years now. It is just as well that I am patient.
The mill itself looks as though it is sitting in a huge pond of weak tea and the water is very high, much to the delight of the wildfowl.
Soggy, boggy and gloomy. Can't blame Toby for being less than enthusiastic really.
I noticed there is a lot of rubbish strewn along the road between the railway bridge and the turn off to the watermill. I intended to go back with my little grabber gadget and a couple of bags - one for recycling, the other for rubbish, but the heavens opened and I decided to save that little treat for another day. Lucky me.
Instead I went to visit a couple of local friends and this little chap, Bill.
Other than that, I did a little baking ready for when my grandchildren come back from school (we have them for a couple of hours, until their parents come home), tried to do my best Florence Nightingale nursing for my husband, he's got bronchitis again, and that pretty much sums up my day in soggy Lincolnshire.
It rained heavily through the night.
I expect another less than sparkling day. Thank goodness for books and a warm fireside.
x
I know it sounds a bit daft Elaine, but could you get your dog some little slip on bootees. They might just help.
ReplyDeleteHello Eleanor, I could certainly improvise some and give them a go, see if he can accept anything on his feet. He is the strangest dog I have ever had (we always have rescue dogs) but after more than four years of hard work with him I am not going to give up. Slowly and steadily we have got him socialising with local dogs, accepting that I occasionally like to deviate from our normal route. He used to become a trembling jelly when the local shoots were on (in the distance) but these days he just looks to me for reassurance and we can continue to walk - I list all of these things because they took a lot of work and represent major milestones. Watch this space - and thank you!
DeleteToby must be part Whippet, they don't like getting their feet wet. Weather has not been to good lately and even I don't like going out in it
ReplyDeleteHi Bill that's really interesting! One of the talents which he keeps well hidden is that he can jump really high, even from a standing start. He is far too lazy to use it normally, but occasionally he gets carried away chasing a ball and flies over a 5 or 5 foot high obstacle like a champion and i think that is also a whippet trait. He's certainly got the appetite of a Lab, though.
DeleteCold and wet is not a good combination. I don't blame Toby in the least. I'd stay home too.
ReplyDeleteHello Marcia, I managed to get him out a couple of times today, I found a reasonably dry route through the fields but then we came across a flooded area, he cleverly found his own pathway through and barely got wet, I was up to my ankles in muddy water, luckily I had my Wellington boots on!!
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