Walking the dogs (and cat)

Today started badly but I took a shed-load of analgesia and hauled myself out to walk the dogs.  I like walking as I find it helps. 

It was a beautiful clear still Shetland day and I took Jack (elderly grumbling Patterdale terrier), Celt (16yo ancient but doitin (definition) lurcher) and BeAnne (perfection, of course) out for a walk.


We were pottering along, if slowly because of me, and I was admiring the amazing blue sky


…and the incredible scenery


when I noticed we had a follower – Wussums!


Now, I will fully admit that I have not been Wussums’ biggest fan.  To date he has stolen cold roast beef and a haggis.  He refuses to sit on a lap, loathes BeAnne and has bitten me twice.  He does sleep on our bed, comes when he is called (outside) and has a soft lisping purr when you pick him up but he just isn’t Fatsworth.  Fatsworth has left a giant hole in our hearts and Wussums is not really filling it.  But today, he made me smile with his dogged determination to be part of this dog walk.

And so we all plodded over hill, bog and heather, a happy little family and it was perfect.  One of those days to remember forever.


I sat on a rock for a while watching everyone.  BeAnne and Wuss had their usual stand-off and no one was the winner.  It involves Wuss imitating a pufferfish while BeAnne pretends she has never chased him and doesn’t care.

After that, we went home again, all the way down the hill.


I think Wussums could find a place in my heart.  I liked him coming for a walk with us.


(There were no sheep involved in the making of this blog – they were too busy looking on thinking we were all mad!)


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