Equine Photographic Blog

Something happened this last week that led me to reflect on my dogs and other peoples. You know, those average family mutts that go along with family life, fit in like part of the furniture. They never do anything amazing like rescuing people from fire, detecting explosives or see off burglars. They are just there, adapting to the strangeness of a human pack and the changes in family life sometimes with exuberance, but always with a wag of the tail.

I’m not sure that quite describes Bob (though it does kinda sorta), a rescue bearded collie cross border collie. He certainly had every behavioural problem you could think of (excepting destructiveness, he never discovered that one). But I don’t want to dwell on his problems (there were too many for a start) suffice it to say he wasn’t easy and an awful lot of people wouldn’t have let him get beyond his second year. He was an unsocialised, year old collie who had been through 4 homes when I got him, if the story was true. But I want to concentrate on what he was good at-why I kept him and why I loved him. Bob was put to sleep last Saturday due to kidney failure after a sunny last walk and a good breakfast. Home won’t be the same again, we’ll adapt and it’ll feel like home again but it’ll always be different.

Despite what he was like at home Bob was always good company on a walk. Once we had worked out that tyre chasing was wrong I often took him out with the bike or we would go walking. I lived in Suffolk back then and would walk around the outskirts of the Newmarket studs, or the Heath and often walked the length of the Devil’s Dyke from Reach to Ditton Green. He never went far away, was happy to share your water/tea and sandwiches and whatever the terrain you just knew he could handle himself. Fences, ditches, hedges-he would always find a way round or find a path where there seemingly wasn’t one. He was good with livestock (albeit a bit scared of cows) he would very determinedly pretend there was nothing there and ignore horses and sheep completely. We also spent some time living close to the South Downs in Sussex and spent many hours walking and just watching the view.

It was when we moved to Scotland that he really came into his own. We first stayed near Campsie Glen. We climbed it one day, Bob and I. Probably not the safest thing to do to be honest, as half the path was subsided leading us to clamber up slippery rock but he managed much better than I sometimes jumping 6/7 foot straight up. After a couple of hours, during which Bob got told off by a very large brown rat that he had cornered, we reached a dead end, a high sheep fence at the top of the Campsies. Since the only way down meant sliding down several sheer drops and possible broken limbs I had to lift and drop him over the top. Bob didn’t like to be picked up usually but seemed to get that it was necessary on walks and never objected then.

Our favourite regular walks in that area consisted of the Whangie and Mugdock Country Park. The Whangie is a short walk really and a steep first part generally discourages those just out on sightseeing car trips. The views from the top are spectacular with Loch Lomond and the start of the Highlands visible on a clear day. Bob and I once went up there in the snow on Boxing Day, it was bitterly cold an the vizability crystal clear, fantastic.

There’s such a long list of places we went to-I’d forgotten really, how much time we’d spent together back then. Loch Katrine, Loch Lomond’s Rob Roy Way (again he found the path), the forests around Aberfoyle where people laughed at me buying Bob a sausage roll and cup of tea, Dumgoyne-the hill equivalent of a stairmaster, the Devil’s Staircase on the West Highland Way and our holiday in Mull. The most memorable and certainly the most dangerous was the hike around Buachaille Etiv Mor.

We were camping, it was the beginning of June and there was still snow on the peaks. The midges were so bad we either took refuge in the pub or the car at nights-despite the noise and the smoke Bob took the pub in his stride. The hike was about 9 miles and once more, much of the path had slipped away over the winter. Bob scrambled/jumped up sheer rock-completely in his element, regularly checking we were OK before finding the next path. On the last bit of bog land (saw sundews for the first time!) on the way back to the car there was a stream, running quite fast with snow melt about 5 foot across and 3 feet deep. My partner cleared it with the rucksacks, Bob cleared it effortlessly. I landed in the middle of it, feet first (which I guess was lucky!?) much to my partner’s and Bob’s amusement. There was still two miles to walk and it was freezing. Trudging along the road my laces got caught up and I landed flat on my face-think I had a sense of humour failure at that point! Still, venison stew always helps with that :).

Moving permanently to Edinburgh led to regular outings up Arthur’s Seat, running around Craigmillar castle in the early mornings, East Lothian beaches and Pressmannen Wood. More recently a new favourite, Butterdean Wood.

A lot has happened since I first got Bob. I went from groom to undergrad, from undergrad to postgrad and postdoc and then back to groom again. We went from Newmarket to Lewes, back to Newmarket then to Glasgow and Edinburgh. From being with someone to being single, to meeting someone else and their kids. From house to flat, to house to flat and back to house again. From being a single dog owner to a two dog owner. He was always there, in the background sometimes but there nonetheless.

Bob, you may not have been the easiest dog. You may not have been a typical family dog. You may have occasionally made me cry in sheer frustration.

But………

you were the best dog to have on a walk, the best dog to have when single, the best dog to have when my father died.

You were the best dog.

Which leads me on to Flynn. Flynn is an extremely handsome 2 year old Irish Setter. Flynn likes to run mainly.

I vowed no more rescue dogs mainly because there are kids around the scene now. I had always loved the look of the Irish Setters and to be honest, wanted a breed that was slightly less intelligent than your average collie. Setters aren’t known for being bright. So I fooled the OH that setters weren’t that big, bigger than Bob although I never specified by just how much. So a bit bigger and much stupider. I wanted a pup that I could make sure was thoroughly socialized and then chose the biggest from the available litter :D. This puppy’s education became my mission, OH would probably say my obsession, although I think that’s a little harsh personally. Flynn was bought every interactive puppy toy I could get hold of as well as all those non-interactive ones. He seemed to be born house trained, he never gets out of bed in the morning without some fuss first, he wont go out in the rain and the bloomin’ dog is a genius. More than once he shut Bob in his cage, has worked out what light switches do, knows how to get one of the puppy gates off and can open the back door. He knew the surefire way to get a reaction out of me was to bother Bob and once when told to lie down, lay down on me (I was laying on the couch). He can sulk for Scotland. This dog is soooo not stupid it’s not funny.

He doesn’t have Bob’s sort of smarts when it comes to being out on walks its true, although this may come with time now he’s out without an older dog to do all the work for him. Yes he’s exuberant and yes he ate our utility room but seems to be over the chewing stage now. He’s a lovely dog, friendly, pretty sensitive and knows he’s stunning. My relationship with him has always been through Bob really so its going to change radically now. And I am looking forward to that.