Yesterday, whilst calmly walking back from the fields, the dogs all happy and relaxed, a bollard in someones drive quite a way ahead, was caught in the glare from my torch. Hamish, shocked out of his post walk ruminations, immediately started a slapsie fight with Pagan. Obviously the bollard was something excitingly edible, and his adrenaline just overflowed with joy. As I’ve said before, slapsie fights are the gayest fights ever – lots of noise, saliva and flailing limbs – all very silly. And as usual, afterwards, he required lots of reassurance from Pagan and myself that he really wasn’t a scaredy cat – ummm…..riiight Hamish. Today, in almost the same place, the home owners have tastefully draped, in a random, slightly Pollock-esque style, fairy lights around the bare branches of a dead shrub. I was wondering whether it was some abstract comment on society when Hamish spotted them – cue major excitement and leaping on the spot. Was he overcome by the possible satirical social comment of lights highlighting a dead bush? Or did he recognise the undiscovered talent of the shrub draper – a future Turner prize winner? Ummm…..nope, he was just excited – silly boy! 😉
With my torch set to armageddon brightness, we set forth, bravely into the black, black fields, rabbits with eyes like diamonds scattering ahead of us, and birds flapping loudly as their roost was disturbed. As we strode along, demons out in front, trotting along happily, a leaf tumbled and twisted out of the sky towards Hamish’s big, proud head (with ears wide enough for a party hat – that simply must go into the official breed description), the leaf suddenly swooped away upwards – ummmm not a leaf then. Bat, it was a sodding bat, dive bombing poor Hamish! He ducked to the side, looking fearful, it swooped again, Hamish narrowly avoiding it. Again and again it swooped, Pagan watching fascinated, Hamish’s ears disappeared (he tucked them away for safe keeping obviously), and he started running back to me for safety, still being dive bombed. Hiding his head between my legs, bicycle rack style, I managed to flap the bat away from him, and off it went. Poor poor Hamish – the world is out to get him! He’s now recovering, snoring away in the kitchen, and I have coffee and a very cuddly Pagan. Bloody bat!!
Well, Mr Bastard Farmer has put up even more electric fencing, but still we managed to avoid it – hahaha you can’t stop us (but please don’t put up anymore). Both beasts seem abnormally sleepy this morning – I should be grateful but I am missing the destruction. We did, however, have a group song earlier and they are contentedly resting. The few degrees warmer may well be a factor. Recently, on returning from their walk, they have both started maypoling me again – Hamish gets that look in his eyes, and he pounces on Pagan, who, naturally, retaliates. They race in decreasing circles around me, and if I don’t manage to escape the tangled web of leads, apparently that makes it even more fun. Not sure I agree, but obviously I don’t have a say in the matter. But it makes a change for my coffee to manage to make it from cup to mouth without meeting table or keyboard, so that’s got to be good. Just heard a lovely, long contented sigh from Hamish, and snores from Pagan mmmmmmm perfect.