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.