bunn

...Lurcher stands awkwardly in background. Poor Rosie.  She didn't want to play with him today. I should get my old manual lenses out. The autofocus lens can't cope with puppy heading towards it at top speed.  At the moment, recall training is going swimmingly, since Theo is still at the age where a sliver of cheese or a biscuit is SUPER EXCITING.  I shall have to be careful not to rely too much on this once he is a bit older and starts testing limits.

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I have a bit of a cold, so when I walked Rosie this morning, I went for a gentle stroll, congratulating myself on how she has over the last year or so turned into a much easier dog to have about the place: she's generally confident and happy and even comes when called.

I had not taken enough note of the fact that she was walking firmly ahead of me at the very end of the lead, with ears in 'don't talk to me' configuration.

She wanted to go into a field we sometimes use, so I let her in, and since that field is very nearly secure apart from a bit of a gap under the top gate, I let her off the lead to sniff for bunnies and wandered up to the top to stand by the slightly dodgy gate.

After a while she seemed to get bored and went to stand by the bottom gate, so I wandered back down, at which point she changed direction, charged up to the top gate and shot under it, leaving me to stagger back up the hill after her, unable to shout due to sore throat, and set off in achey cold-ridden pursuit.

Fortunately she only went through the hedge into the other field we often use (that field is secure in the summer, when the nettles are tall, because she doesn't like nettles, but they've died down now). She then did the Saluki Prance and led me all around the fields, never looking at me, but always somehow at least ten paces ahead... Grrr. Still, she did get tired of it eventually and came to me to complain that her feet were wet with dew. THAT IS NOT MY FAULT, ROSIE ROO.

Because of Rosie's long aristocratic nose, and tendency to look down it disdainfully, her elegant form, her pointed ears and ability to float lightly over muddy ground,  I said that Rosie must be an Elf Princess.  After some discussion with Pp, we agreed that if Rosie was a Middle Earth Elf Princess, she would be Aredhel, White Lady of the Noldor.   Because Aredhel is the princess notable for not staying where she is told to, but instead unwisely bogging off and doing her own thing, with unpredictable results.

So here is Rosie, imagining herself as Aredhel. 

This evening  as I walked through the village, the sky was an almost cloudless blue, with just a thin sliver of the new moon showing above the mine chimney on the hilltop.  The first evening stars were just beginning to show.

A car came down the hill behind me and the driver waved in a friendly manner,  to show that she was going to take the driveway just ahead, so I broke into a run so as not to hold her up. Running was fun, so I ran faster and faster, until I was running down the hill madly, as fast as I can run in wellington boots, with Brythen bounding delightedly ahead of me.

Rosie did not bound.  She did not run at all.  She simply gave me a look from her enormous range of unimpressed looks, and walked a bit faster.  Her fast walk is still faster than my fastest run...