A visitor
On going into the bathroom, Susannah was startled to find syringes laid out neatly on the counter top. This was not a sight with which she was familiar in her family home.
However, she quickly realised that they are ink jet syringes, used for refilling printer cartridges. What a relief!
Worrying
Our middle daughter lives in South London, not far from Crystal Palace. Early each morning she goes for a run with her dog, Arthur. This morning, she discovered something disturbing in the woods. She took photographs, but did not investigate closely and would not allow Arthur too near, either.
A police car and an ambulance arrived on the scene and after a short while the authorities determined that the polythene wrapped ‘body’ had probably been deposited as a Hallowe’en prank.
Not long ago, the various parts of a dismembered body were found near this location, so police are aware and alert at all times. This time, fortunately, it was just a poor joke in bad taste.
Short back and sides . . .
At first, I couldn’t think where the grooming salon was and then realised it’s where the old ‘Iron Duke’ pub used to stand. It was pulled down several years ago and in its place is a small parade of shops, including the dog groomers ‘Dog Scents,’ a pet food shop and a small development of houses in Iron Duke Close.
‘Iron Duke’ was a nickname for the Duke of Wellington. There are a lot of nods to Wellington in Crowthorne as his estate is just a few miles away at Stratfield Saye. Wellington College, our local independent (fee-paying) school was founded in his memory in 1859.
Duke’s Ride references his love of hunting in Windsor Forest. The Waterloo Hotel sat between Dukes Ride and Waterloo Road and was closed ten years ago and later demolished.
Wellesley Court is a gated development of apartments and Wellesley Drive is a small estate of predominantly detached houses. Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley was the 1st Duke of Wellington.
There is also Wellingtonia Avenue, a road lined with giant redwood trees (Sequoiadendron giganteum) They are known in Britain as Wellingtonia, to honour the said duke. The Americans wanted to call them ‘Washingtonia’ after George Washington. They were beaten to the draw by the botanist William Lobb. Lobb returned posthaste to Britain in 1853 with seeds and seedlings collected from the huge conifers. The trees soon became status symbols in grand estates, though they will never achieve the height and girth of their Californian relatives.
I duly dropped Arthur off. He’s not very keen on going to the salon, but I left him in the capable hands of the groomers and picked him up an hour and a half later. He nearly turned himself inside out when he saw me, such was his excitement and relief. He looked neat and tidy, as though he’d lost several pounds in weight, and smelt wonderful.
Arriving home, he was greeted rapturously by Roxy and particularly enthusiastically by Gilbert. A few hours later, Barry and Susannah returned, and the whole tail-wagging exercise was enacted again.
This morning, very early, Susannah, Arthur and the cats decamped for London, and the house is ours alone again. I hope we shall see them all again soon.
The Dorset Family
On Tuesday evening I had a call from my eldest daughter, asking if it would be all right for her to visit the following day. She had been intending to descend on us without warning, but her elder daughter said, ‘Mum, haven’t you read Janice’s blog? She said that it's lovely to see people, but a little advance notice would be helpful.’
I was surprised at that. I didn’t know that Marnie read my blog. Anyway, Gillian took the advice to heart. On Wednesday, Gillian, her daughters, one son-in-law and all six of her grandchildren arrived. Their dogs remained in Dorset.
Five-month-old Hailey was passed to me and sat happily on my knee watching her cousins. The other three girls, Marnie’s daughter, Isla, who is twelve, Kiri’s daughter, Ariella, four, and Callum’s daughter Melia, two and a half, did what girls usually do. They settled down on the floor with paper and coloured pencils, then gravitated to construction toys with gears and cogs. It’s clear that they spend a lot of time together, giving, taking, and working cooperatively.
Fergus, who is nearly eleven, concentrated on playing with the dogs, particularly Gilbert. He is very much at ease with animals.
Luca was busy pressing buttons and investigating the contents of cupboards and
drawers. He will be three in October and is ‘into everything’ as the saying
goes. He needs a dedicated full-time adult to monitor his actions, and prevent them
if necessary possible. He found the cat litter tray especially interesting.
The texture of the granules was pleasing as it poured through his fingers. Naturally,
the more he was dissuaded from investigating it, the greater was the
fascination. Fortunately, the tray only contained unused litter! The cats were
prowling around, quite unaffected by the sudden influx of people, particularly
small ones.
Gilbert
and Arthur were intrigued by the baby and gently licked her toes, which she
seemed to enjoy. Roxy, of course, is an old hand paw with little humans,
and knew which ones to attend, principally Luca, who was waving his food around
in a tantalising manner.
Barry took Marnie and Dean into the garden, to pick apples and plums, of which there are an abundance. All the children, apart from Hailey, had a turn around the garden – such a Regency phrase!
Our garden is no longer a children’s space, in the sense that they cannot play football, cricket, or tennis in it, or ride their bikes, but it is full of interest. We have tried to divide it into ‘rooms’ with a winding path and arches which support a variety of climbing plants. Actually, it’s more the case that the plants support the arches now.
Marnie was in seventh heaven. Her ambition is to have a self-sufficient garden. She already grows a few vegetables, but has plans for much more when she and Dean can acquire a house with a bigger garden.
She came back into the house laden with fruit, a branch (!) of bay leaves to dry, thyme, oregano, a number of different mint plants, which she can root on, and a great quantity of cobnuts. She and Paul, her father, have been engaged in creating chutneys and pies. The crab apples are not ripe, so she will have to make a return journey to pick those for crab apple jelly. I haven’t made that for some years now as somehow everything in sight gets covered in stickiness.
They had to leave early as Fergus had a football match near Blandford. He’s a tall boy and plays goalkeeper, like his sister, Isla, and just as his mother used to.
All too soon, the house was relatively empty again and peace descended. The dogs and cats slept well, Gilbert retiring to (our) bed shortly after his supper at 6:30.
Tonight, there will be more upheaval for Arthur when Susannah returns. He will be so excited. He’s a lovely little dog, very faithful and affectionate and we shall miss him when he returns to London with Susannah and her cats.
Summer visitors
Arthur has come to stay for a couple of weeks while his owner visits the South of France for a few days. It is a working holiday for her. She was recently made redundant but managed to get another short-term contract, so is working remotely. She has gone with a pregnant friend whose parents have a holiday home there.
Arthur was always going to stay with us, but the cats had to come, too. The cat-sitting arrangements fell through while Susannah waited for confirmation of her new job. Solomon, Lenny, and Zula are safely ensconced in what we laughingly call the South Wing, East Wing, West Wing?? another part of the house anyway, where she and Frankie lived for almost six years. It’s just the three old bedrooms of our children, nothing spectacular.
Herschel and Jellicoe are fascinated and sit near the dividing door when I go in to ‘see to the cats.’ Arthur dances around outside, not desperate to visit his housemates. They are not nearly as tolerant as our felines, who give him a good ignoring while attempting to steal his food.
Arthur is a very obedient little dog – a working Cocker spaniel, with boundless energy and the sweetest nature. Out of the house for a walk, he dashes hither and yon, but never goes far from whoever is walking him, currently Barry. He is polite to other dogs and people but is not really interested in them. Susannah has trained him exceptionally well. He is a great companion for her and an alert guard dog, though he would greet any intruder with immense joy.
I now have two dogs at my feet. Dogs seem to need more contact and reassurance than bitches. Roxy comes to us now and again for attention, but she’s much more independent than the boys. I suppose that’s the nature of the beast. The girls instinctively nurture their young.
Ready for morning cuddles
Preparations
Impromptu family visits are fun, but those which have been telegraphed in advance – that is, planned – take on a different countenance. Absolutely no-one in our family is at all awkward or demanding, but it’s always nice to ensure that things are as welcoming as they can be.
Part of the fun is making sure we have acceptable provisions. For example, dairy milk is not well tolerated by some, so almond milk is provided, but that’s not good for everyone, either, so we order oat milk. Some are vegetarians, and food provided for them must be kept at a safe distance from the offerings for the carnivores.
Once the food has been organised, we set about ‘tidying.’ This is a mammoth task, as we have many interests and are untidy and apt to be distracted.
Finally, ‘alles ist in Ordnung.’ For no particular reason, we use German phrases occasionally. I suppose we use French, too – ‘tout de suite,’ for example. Somehow, foreign phrases seem so much more fitting than our pedestrian English, and, of course, our language is littered with Latin expressions. What a mongrel nation we are!
Anyway, the house is at last less of a tip than usual, the dogs have been exercised, and we welcome our visitors with open arms.
A couple of weeks ago, Susannah and Arthur came to stay for a few days. Susannah works to a different timetable from everyone else, rising at 4:30 and retiring in the early evening. Her childhood friend, Jo, was staying with her for a few weeks. She now lives in Ecuador, but came to see us, which really touched us. She’s a breath of fresh air, a vibrant personality, and great fun. She and Susannah make a wonderful double act, with a terrific sense of humour.
Barry had prepared a beef joint ‘sous vide,’ garnished with rosemary and thyme from the garden. It cooked slowly for twenty-four hours and sliced as easily as butter. Bethan took over and cooked the vegetables – carrots, green beans and tenderstem broccoli. I only recently discovered that tenderstem broccoli, sometimes called broccolini, is a hybrid of kale and broccoli. It is delicious cooked al dente (there we are, an Italian phrase to enrich our English) or eaten raw in salad.
Almost as soon as we sat down, Charlie asked if I had made a trifle. Luckily, I had. Out of curiosity, we looked up the French and German translations for trifle and were rewarded with ‘bagatelle,’ and ‘kleinigkeit,’ both meaning ‘a little thing, a minor detail.’ Clearly, trifle is not something familiar in French or German cuisine. It is English in origin, first appearing in cookery books in the sixteenth century.
Roxy and Gilbert were thrilled to see more family members, nudging and nosing them, Gilbert bringing them toys. Robert, Charlie and Jack were delighted to see Herschel and Jellicoe. They would love to have cats of their own, but Robert is allergic to them, and has to take antihistamines before he visits us – or maybe it’s us to whom he’s allergic.
The cats were fussed and stroked and talked to and played with, and responded with grace and patience.
Jack trawled the raspberry canes to discover edible berries, which turned out to be anything which was pinkish. He also discovered a few more cherries and strawberries. Charlie concentrated on training the cats!
It was a lovely day, and we all slept well last night. My back was stiff and sore by evening, but that was a small price to pay for the pleasure of seeing much-loved family.
The mute
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons
A mute is used on musical instruments to change the quality or tone of the music produced. It can be used to allow a player to practise more quietly, hence the saying, ‘Good mutes make good neighbours.’
Hat mute for trumpet
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons
Perhaps the mutes most familiar to onlookers are the plunger mute or the harmon mute that create the ‘wah-wah’ sound.
Gilbert doesn’t play a musical instrument, though he has some squeaky toys. He does use mutes, though.
On this occasion, the mute was a yoghourt pot.
At other times, it’s a ball or a toy.
Arthur favours the double mute method!
Gilbert the Good – Events
Susannah and Arthur have come to stay for a few days, which is nice, but Arthur keeps taking my toys. He can’t go anywhere without carrying something. It’s a cocker thing, apparently. I don’t mind too much, but I wish he would bring them back when he’s taken them outside. We still like to play together, though not so much as when we were younger.
It’s been quite busy round here lately. Jellioe had to go to the vet again on Wednesday. He was being a bit picky over his food and then, after he had eventually eaten it, he threw it up all over the sitting room – well, the bit of the room he was sitting in, anyway. He’s had an antibiotic injection, that lasts for two weeks, and he’s had to go back on the diet he used to have. He is much livelier now and on Saturday afternoon he captured a small mouse and brought it indoors to show everyone. The humans chased him out! He and Herschel sat and looked at it for a bit, then they got bored and walked away.
When Roxy and I got home from our walk on Thursday, everyone asked me, ‘What’s wrong with your eye?’ Well, I didn’t know, but it felt sore, and it was watering.
Janice bathed it and that helped a little, but I couldn’t open it properly, so Barry took me to see the vets. I was quite happy about that – I always get treats when I go there. Anyway, they put some dye in my eye to see if it was scratched, but it wasn’t. I’ve got some painkillers to have with my supper for a few days, and the humans have got to watch me to see that my eye doesn’t go bad or something. The humans keep saying, ‘Aww, poor Gilbert,’ so I carry on looking pathetic, in case they decide to cheer me up with a treat or two.
I sit by Janice’s feet quite a lot, and she often says, ‘Lovely boy’ to me, and then Barry answers with, ‘I know I’m a lovely boy.’ Do you think I should tell him that it’s me she means, not him, or would he be upset?
Barry has said that I can’t go out for a couple of days, which is a shame, but I suppose it’s sensible. My eye does feel better, but I’m still a bit winky.
TTFN
Gilbert
A sleepover
We had a guest for a sleepover on Saturday. Arthur came to stay while Susannah and her friend, Jo, went to see another friend in the Cotswolds.
He was anxious when they left but settled quite quickly. We expected that he and his great friend, Gilbert, would play, but, though they greeted each other cordially, there were no high jinks. I suppose neither of them was in in the mood. Roxy just kept her head down, grateful for some peace and quiet, and to be fair, she and Gilbert had been out for a good long walk with Barry. They returned, wet, muddy, and tired, the dogs, that is!
Arthur was on high alert, ears pricking and head turning towards the front door every time he heard, ‘Motion detected at your drive.’ This happened quite frequently, as it was quite breezy, causing some branches to set off the alarm. (Clearly, it’s time to prune the shrubs again!)
At bedtime, Arthur trotted upstairs and found a really comfortable spot on my side of the bed. He sleeps on Susannah’s bed when he’s at home, and he thought he’d do the same in our house. Deep down, he knew that was not going to happen. The practice with us is that he goes into the little crate in our room. This ensures that he relaxes and goes to sleep, rather than traipsing round the room all night, disturbing Gilbert and inciting him to mischief.
I reminded him of the routine. He looked at me and wriggled hard, his tail wagging itself into a blur. I left him and went to have a shower. I heard Barry talking to him and when I came back into the bedroom, Arthur was in his crate. What a good boy!
The next morning, he was delighted to be released from captivity and leapt onto the bed, to press tightly against me. Barry whistled up our dogs and cats and they all galloped off, eager for breakfast.
Our dogs looked on in disbelief, as I persuaded Arthur to eat. They would have helped willingly and need no encouragement whatsoever. He is very easily distracted when supposedly feeding, messing about, eating a mouthful or two, then looking around, before attempting more. It’s quite a novelty spending time with a dog like Arthur. Every dog we have had has shown a healthy (sometimes unhealthy!) interest in food. Even our cats have always been enthusiastic about eating.
There followed another hour or two of extreme attendance on the front door, and joy was unbounded when Susannah finally appeared, after many false starts.
All three dogs met in the forest for a walk after Susannah and Arthur had been for a run. It was noticeably quiet when they left and everyone snoozed, but it was a pleasure to have Arthur to stay.
Boot Camp
This rather aggressive term is used to describe a rigorous fitness programme, designed to improve physical strength and stamina.
Our middle daughter has been going to boot camp with her dog, Arthur. Because of work commitments, she cannot always attend. Consequently, Arthur hasn’t had much exposure to the regime, so hasn’t fully appreciated its purpose.
Principally, as he sees it, his purpose in life is to protect Susannah, mainly by trying to get inside her skin.
There is another dog who attends, a well-behaved whippet.
Sticks!
It is a fact universally acknowledged that dogs enjoy sticks or things that resemble sticks. They like to chase and retrieve them, or chew them, or guard them, or play tug of war with them, or simply lie on them and go to sleep.
Many dogs will seek out a stick as soon as their paws touch the forest floor, and the bigger it is, the better. Roxy Labrador picks up a stick the minute she gets out of the car.
Dogs will navigate gateways and narrow paths with sticks that are much longer than it would be thought possible to manoeuvre. Cariadd Dalmatian used to carry sticks that looked more like telegraph poles.
Some dogs are possessive about their sticks and will not relinquish them. Arthur Cocker Spaniel loves to play the ‘Is that my . . . ?’ game. He will not give up his stick or toy until he is ready. He makes lots of noise, but he is the sweetest little dog.
Sam Jack Russell insisted on taking his sticks into the back of the car and would not release them until he reached home. He and his sister, Daisy, played sticks with their mother, Biddy. The three of them ran along, two going forwards, one backwards. Biddy was also an accomplished tree climber.
Sticks and water go together. Labradors are persistent retrievers and bob their heads under water, looking and smelling for sticks that have sunk. Atavistic behaviour deep in the retriever memory from their origins, perhaps, from hauling in fishing nets in the chilly Newfoundland waters.
We always make sure that sticks are thick and long enough not to stick in the dogs’ mouths and throats. Mostly, we encourage our dogs to play with Kongs and balls, but sometimes, only a stick will do!
Gilbert the Good – Christmas Epistle
Andrew mentioned that I hadn’t written a blog post recently. My last one was in August this year.
I am pleased to report that I’ve been going out for long walks in the forest with Barry. It feels strange to go out without Roxy, as I really like playing with her, but at the moment, she goes out first and then I go out afterwards. I like meeting people and playing with different dogs, but Roxy is my best playmate, followed by Arthur, Susannah’s dog.
I can’t wait for Janice to get back into walking. Maybe, when she’s had her injection on Friday, she’ll be able to walk further than the end of the drive, then we’ll all be able to go out together, like we used to. Paws crossed!
It's been a strange year. Susannah came to stay for a few weeks with Arthur and the cats. Now she’s moved to London, and we all miss her. She’s coming to see us soon and that will make Roxy and me very happy, especially as Arthur will come with her.
Barry has been back and forth to different hospitals for months. I don’t know what months are, but I think it means a long time. He’s had so much blood taken that I think his arm must be empty by now, and he needs a photograph album for all the pictures he’s had taken of his insides. I can’t see the point of that. I mean, you wouldn’t want to frame them and put them on the wall, would you? Everyone seems to be pleased with him, though, so that’s good.
Jellicoe is much happier since he had some teeth out and his breath certainly smells sweeter. He’s spending more time with Herschel, even sleeping in the same bed – one of our dog beds - though they still squabble from time to time.
Most of the time, Herschel and Jellicoe like to cuddle up with us, and that’s really nice.
I hope it won’t be so long before I write another blog post, but it has been a busy year and we all hope that next year will be much, much better.
Meanwhile, I wish you all a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy and Healthy 2025. Make the most of every day and try to ‘Always look on the bright side of life.’
Gilbert
Differences
There are many differences between working Labradors and Cocker Spaniels.
The most obvious difference is size. Labradors are bigger, between 25 and 38 kg. I’ve just discovered that working Labradors are known in the States as American or field-bred Labradors. British working Labradors are field-bred dogs from the UK and Ireland.
Working Cocker spaniels weigh 11 to 16 kg and are between 36 to 43 cm at the withers, which I have to remind myself is the highest point of the shoulder blades. Compare that to a Labrador standing 54 to 62 cm. at the same point.
Labradors
are relaxed, steady dogs, though they do have their wild moments. Generally,
well-exercised and well-fed dogs will settle down at your feet and snore
sleep the hours away. Cockers are busy, fizzy little dogs. They are anxious to
please and will greet their owners with enthusiasm and at least one toy in
their mouths. Labradors are equally delighted to see their people and are keen
to nose them and give them a good sniffing to discover where they’ve been and
with whom.
When they’re outside, a cocker’s nose is never far from the ground if it’s not scenting the air. Labradors like to read the environment as well, but they’re not so keen to seek prey. That’s not their job. They are required to pick up, though they will sometimes spring birds or rabbits.
Both breeds love water and are drawn to it as to a magnet.
The biggest difference is in their approach to food. All Labradors – at least, all the many ones we’ve had, love food, and most of them live to eat, whereas cockers eat to live, from our limited experience of them.
When Arthur comes to play, we have to persuade him to eat, even when it’s obvious he’s hungry. Like a restless child, he is easily distracted from eating, whereas the Labradors plough straight through the food until there’s not a hint of a scent of anything left, and then look around with a half-starved expression, hoping to convince any passing human in the house that they really have not been fed for days.
Both breeds are great friends, like all dogs.
Dogs are wonderful companions, no matter what their provenance, and some of the best are rescue dogs looking for their forever homes. One of the loveliest dogs I ever knew was Jake, an absolute peach of a dog.
Of unknown breeding, he was delighted to be accepted and loved by my daughter and son-in-law. He was an amazingly loyal and loving dog to them and their children. When they acquired a Labrador puppy, and we went to see them, he would jump into the back of our car, hoping to come home with us. He liked the puppy but sometimes wanted a rest from her. All puppies are exhausting for a while and Jake enjoyed a quiet life. As the puppy grew up and calmed down, Jake became very fond of her.
There is always an unknown quality in rescue dogs. Unless they are very young puppies in a rescue centre, there is no knowing what has befallen them in their lives. It’s too easy to be led by the heart, rather than reason.
Rescue societies do a grand job of assessing them and advising to the best of their ability whether a dog will settle with young children, or cats, or more than one or two people. The best rescue centres will interview prospective owners and will not release a dog unless and until they are satisfied that the dog is going to a good home and will not be returned in a few weeks when the novelty has worn off.
We don’t deserve dogs, really.
Human and veterinary medical procedures
Barry had his nose medically photographed again. It’s a fine nose, but he’ll be getting above his station if people keep taking photographs of it. It’s for the dermatology department to consider what next to do, if anything.
In the afternoon of that day, a doctor called to say that Barry should present himself at hospital on the following Friday for a colonography – another sort of photograph, really! Thursday was spent ‘preparing’ so he didn’t stray far from the house.
We’re not superstitious, so Friday 13th didn’t bother us and all I had to do was worry, anyway. I’m very good at that – I’ve had lots of practice.
On Monday 16th, Barry intended to go to the walk-in centre at one of the local hospitals for a chest x-ray, but something cropped up to prevent that, so he decided to go in on Tuesday. However, there was a call on Tuesday morning, to tell him that he needed a colonoscopy to remove some polyps. This would be organised very soon.
The colonography had also revealed a potential problem with the prostate and ‘someone from Urology would call.’ In the afternoon, ‘someone from Urology did call’ to tell him to report immediately to the Emergency Surgical Unit. They thought it highly unlikely he would be kept in overnight, but Barry obeyed Flanagan’s Law and prepared as if to stay. It was fortunate he did, as he stayed in for two nights.
Once again, it was not a restful stay, with the man in the bed next to him needing the attention of two nurses all night, to calm him down and make sure he stayed in bed. Barry was pleased to get home on Thursday, and was greeted rapturously by Roxy and Gilbert, and also by Arthur and Lottie, who had spent the day with me.
Jellicoe, our diabetic cat, ate very little on Thursday evening, which is most unusual. On Friday morning, he ate most of his breakfast, but then started behaving quite strangely. He was sniffing his way cautiously round the house and we deduced that he had suddenly gone blind and perhaps had had a stroke. He spent the day with the vets and came home in the afternoon, quite his usual self. There had been a diabetic imbalance in his system. Feline diabetes can be difficult to control, and Jellicoe is particularly challenging.
Roxy also went to the vet, for a pedicure. We have not been able to take the dogs out very much recently and her claws were exceptionally long. Before Barry could prevent her, she ate all her toe clippings!
So, the chest x-ray will now be next week, I suppose, unless something else urgently needs attention. There are two family birthdays next week. My daughter-in-law has her birthday on 25th September, and my great-grandson, Fergus, is ten years old the following day.