Call My Bluff. (Fickle Friend).

It’s the time of year when the grateful Employer insists that I take a week’s holiday. I have to take a week in the spring, a fortnight in the summer, a week in the autumn and a week in the winter. Not bad at all I hear you say, but you have to have worked a lot of years to stack up holiday entitlements like that. Then of course there’s the work, not everyone’s cup of tea.

I had planned with great skill, a few jobs, and the bare minimum that I could get away with. I’d also managed to get booked into the Dentist, book the car in for a service, and promised my Barber a rare visit. It’s Tuesday and I’m having quite a nice time of it. The Dentist had fitted me in nice and early. Eight o clock, meaning I was up and about and had walked the Mutt across the fields for forty-five minutes, as well as having showered and stuff. I was home in time to say cheerio to Owen as he left the house for the School Bus.�?Oh Dad! I meant to say last night…I need a heart for Biology tomorrow…a dissection class.

I spent at least three hours in my car visiting fourteen different Butchers shops. Not one heart. The nearest abattoir is thirty miles away; I draw the line at that kind of Parental zealousness. At least I got a haircut. Jake also had an extra walk at midday.

So went the day. Pleasantly frittering away the hours looking for the heart of a sheep or pig for Owens education. It was getting on for four and I wanted to walk the Common as much as Jake did. Boots on, waterproof, gloves, stick…C’mon Jake! We were strolling down Chamberlains Lane, Jake had missed a fox crossing our path, I stopped to watch him slink into the far side of the field. Vernon, with Scott joined us.

As Vernon and I chatted, Jake and Scott investigated a lady walking in our Lane. She was a little put off when two large black dogs trotted up to greet her. I joked with her, �?He won’t bite, I fed him before we came out, and he’s not really hungry enough�? She laughed and stayed a while, watching the fox skulking in the hedges. I asked where her dog was…EVERYONE is walking dogs at this time of night�?there is no evidence of a sense of humour …She tells us that she is on her way to the stables to walk her daughter home. As she left Vernon and I, she called Jake…�?I could fall in love with this one though…come on Jake…come with me!�?The bugger only DID! I’ve never seen him so taken with a stranger; he followed her happily to the stables without a backward glance.

I followed on a few minutes later, imagining that he was being a right bloody nuisance. There he was, sat bolt upright at her side as she talked with some friends. “Jake! Shall we finish that walk now!�?

The Lady was very complimentary about his manner and his training. I practically had to drag the bugger away.

Das disgusted.

Fourth Sunday in Advent.

Fourth Sunday in Advent it may be. Christmas Eve it may be. It’s just another Sunday to Jake ... he needs his walk. Perhaps today IS special, I was up early for a change. Jake wasn’t. He actually lay on Owen’s bed and looked vacantly at me. I had a cup of tea and toast and went to Church. Stupid dog!

I’ve said before, there’s something very peaceful about sitting anonymously in a Church. It’s an hour or two of total introspection, contemplation, and consideration. I was distracted this morning. The congregation was VERY thin on the ground. For instance, there’s a Children’s Service this afternoon, a Service at the Old Folk’s Home and of course the Mid-night Carol Service. The Die Hards were there as usual. As I was mulling my own concerns over in my mind, I was caught up in conversations going on around me.

�?Judy, I’ve written the recipe for the Marmalade that you wanted.�?/FONT>

“Mary, have the children all made it home for Christmas?�?/FONT>

“How’s your Mother Mandy, she’s been so poorly?�?/FONT>

“Is David still in Kenya?�?/FONT>

“I have a new outfit for Midnight Mass. Shall we meet at Veronica’s as usual at about nine?�?/FONT>

“The Grandchildren are SOOO excited, I can’t wait ‘till they all come around!

My own concerns drifted away and I followed the conversations in the pews in front and behind me. I know most of what they are talking about. Judy was widowed two years ago. Mary’s two youngsters are abroad, one in America and one in New Guinea. The Grandchildren are the family of a young woman who is a friend of Kimberley’s. My slight annoyance turns to slight pleasure.

The fourth Advent candle is lit, the Service proceeds. Soon I am home pulling on my boots and waterproofs to walk a reluctant Jake.

It’s a grey day. Low clouds and a keen wind. Cattle crowd Jake as he zooms around them in a game of chase. He runs back to me with a mob of young stirks in pursuit. Just what I need, the unwelcome attention of young bulls. Lots of shouting and waving of sticks and they leave me alone.

Robyn will know the spot. By the lightning struck tree on The Common, a Grey Heron takes to the wing and soars around the valley with a demonstration of avionics that Nature only can provide. The walk is muddy. My boots feel heavy and my jeans and coat are splashed with foul water and mud. We meet a Jack Russell with a squeaky toy in his mouth (Pepe). He falls in love with Jake and follows us on our walk. The owner is amused and content to walk with us for a mile or two. The owner carries the squeaky toy and eventually has to slip on Pepe’s lead to take him home. Another friend for Jake. Someone else for me to say Hello to.

We are having our Christmas Meal today. Aidan, Kelly and Owen are all working on Christmas Day. They all work in the kitchens at the Pub next door. It’s most unusual for Bev and I to be off and the kids all working.

Christmas comes early for Walks With Dog.