A Good Dog

 

Hannah asked me to go with her to the garden centre; she wanted to buy some houseplants. It’s the first time she’s shown any real interest in horticulture since she started a couple of bonsai projects a few years ago. She bonsaied the life out of an ash seedling and a hawthorn. The hawthorn still survives; the ash succumbed to dieback.

While we were there, I found myself tempted by tulip bulbs. I resisted, having only today managed to plant the tulip bulbs I bought more than six weeks ago. Thankfully, they’re all in the ground now, though I still have a good number of daffodils waiting to be planted.

My original idea had been to plant the bulbs on Judy’s grave, but the area has become rather grassy, and I was reluctant to start digging it over - and it’s far too wet to hoe. I don’t know why I worried, for Bert planted her deep.

Phoenix, Locky’s husky, lies not far behind her, with Dora, Jazzer’s dog, resting between them. Locky once talked about getting little plaques, but he hasn’t got round to it, and I rather hope he’s forgotten.

I had thought about painting stones for them instead. I even bought the paint, but, like so many things, I’ve not got around to it. Locky hasn’t been to visit since he buried Phoenix.

I miss Judy a lot. She died on the 5th of September, in the time between Jonny’s death and his funeral. That was very much on our minds then. People are more important than dogs, are they not? It felt wrong to make too much of Judy’s passing when we were mourning a dearly loved member of our family. But I do miss her. She was a good dog.

Judy and Dora

Judy and Phoenix

At the beach

Gently Does It

 

Just easing myself back into blogging after the longest break ever.

Since my last post, I spent five days in London with our newly widowed sister. What a hard loss it has been to her, and to all of us who knew and loved her Jonny. 

Then, barely home, I was straight into preparing for a four-day visit from the children’s father and his partner. That all went smoothly enough, though on the second day, we had to say goodbye to our oldest dog, darling Judy. 

Today Jonny’s funeral date was set, and Zoe, who is far more capable with these sorts of arrangements than I am, booked our travel and accommodation. I was grateful to leave it in her hands.

Meanwhile, Bert baked me a cake from a recipe in Saturday’s Guardian. The family were here for supper, and I blew out some candles - for I will be 72 years old tomorrow. Zoe had to take the photographs in portrait mode to fit in those tall girls, who tower over their little granny.

I used to think I looked like my ma, which made me feel old enough. Now I’m starting to resemble her mother, my Granny McAnespie — and that makes me feel really old. But who cares? I’m here, and so are you. We might as well make the best of it.

The News From Cully

 

Never mind the Windsors and their recent over-reported, who cares* hospital stays - our Judy, the old girl, has had dental surgery, the price of a week's holiday in Spain, but with complementary toenail trimming thrown in. She came through it courageously and is already showing signs of improved mood and zest for what remains of her life. Who needs a holiday in Benidorm anyway? I'm holding out for Seville.

*Who cares? If the reporting around King Charlie's prostrate treatment results in more men seeking help and more lives prolonged then I say - that's good.

I'm always ordering books of the internet but this week I thought I'd try a new seller. I was immediately drawn to this volume of short stories by H.E. Bates in an Etsy shop**. When I was in my late teens I was a big fan of short stories by the likes of Bates and Hardy. I remember staying up late reading in front of the old Rayburn , fire door open, and being overcome by carbon monoxide fumes. When I finally closed the book, but not the fire door, I climbed the rickety wooden stairs, entered the bedroom where my two youngest sisters were sleeping and there fainted to the floor, overcome not by the fumes of cheap coal but the sharp, fresh, cold air of that freezing room. There is a lot to be said for living in a draughty old farmhouse. I bought that book for the sheer nostalgia of it and I look forward to reading it again.

I'd recommend the seller. My book arrived promptly, beautifully wrapped and with a complimentary postcard. How did she know that I use literary postcards as bookmarks?

**Full disclosure. This Etsy shop belongs to my sister. But I'd still be recommending her even if I didn't know her personally. And because I know her I also know how much time and effort she puts into providing this service. 

Other news from Cully - Ben and Sara are camping in the woods tonight. It's February. I'm so proud of them. A well-reared pair.

That Was The Week That Was

My Anglo-Irish visitors arrived on Sunday evening. I met them at the airport where James was one of the first off the plane. He jumped up and down with excitement when he spotted me. I would have liked to do that too but, y'know, knees...

I told him,

We don't have the van anymore. We have another car.

He is obsessed with motor vehicles

He said,

Is it a Tesla?

He is particularly obsessed with Tesla cars and was disappointed that Santa Claus did not bring him one at Christmas. This is despite him being ten years too young to hold a driving licence.

I told him it wasn't a Tesla and he asked,

Is it a Landrover?

Fraid not, James. It's a Jeep.

Monday

We had an at-home day. Evie and her parents came out after lunch. Martha had a prior engagement, a sleepover birthday party which sounded exciting. There was an Easter Egg Hunt in the woods and all three children returned laden with chocolate eggs.  

It was lovely to have my three daughters all together and half-listen to the buzz of conversation between them. I made a curried fish pie. Emily told me she hated it. What's not to love about a five-year-old with strong opinions? James has particular food requirements and supper for him is either spag bol or Weetabix. He chose Weetabix. I didn't mind. 

On Tuesday Hannah and I had planned a visit to Portglenone Forest and a picnic with all four of the grandchildren. Zoe intended to spend the day planting native trees in the wood. This didn't happen. When she arrived at the sleepover house to pick Martha up she found that Martha had just had a trampolining accident and had injured her foot so it was off to Accident and Emergency with them. Hannah and I took the rest of the children to Portglenone and Martha was very much missed.

Wednesday

Everyone except Nellybert and Hannah went to the Titanic Experience. Martha had her foot in a cast and she got a complimentary wheelchair. There was a slight worry that they might bump into Joe Biden and get caught up in traffic jams but this did not happen. The President was in a different part of town. I'm told that they did see a huge amount of police on the motorway and it was obvious that they were in riot vehicles as many of them bore the scars of rocks on their bodywork. Happily, there was no trouble in the city during Biden's visit. 

James was most impressed with Belfast. Under his direction, we spent a couple of hours making a city. This involved using all my printer paper and a bunch of Sharpies and drawing buildings and shops and placing cars in the streets.

I was impressed by his drawing of Goliath.

Someone said,

Isn't there a church?

James wanted a church so I said I'd draw one. He said he wanted a graveyard too so he drew the gravestones and the statuary. He's keen on graveyards too and visited two when we were in Portglenone.

That was the last evening I had with my youngest grandchildren as it was off to the airport again on Thursday morning. It was sad to see them go but I made a promise to visit them all during the Autumn half-term which isn't that far away.

The Rest of Thursday

I did nothing. Leitrim Sister came round in the evening to pick up Lulu. I forgot to mention that we were looking after Lulu during the Anglo-Irish visit and she was a great favourite with the little ones. That dog deserves a medal for what she put up with.

Friday

We had the big girls out to help us collect Cleo. Yes. It was time for Cleo to come live with us. Some might say it was a shame that James and Emily didn't get to meet her but I think she had a lucky escape. James did actually get to meet her as Katy called briefly at Laura's house to see the puppies and James got down on the floor and rolled around with them to the slight consternation of his hosts. Emily missed this as she was asleep in the car.

Cleo's First Night

We were going to start her off in a crate and she cried all night. Bert had to go down and comfort her and I heard nothing. It must be hard when a pup is used to eight other familiar bodies to have to sleep alone.

Saturday

Martha and Evie were out again and Zoe, as she still had some trees to plant. While she was doing that the girls and I drove into town to buy Judy a new basket and a few other bits for the pup. Cleo got a lot of attention that day. 

No crate on Saturday night. She slept in Judy's new bed with Judy on the sofa beside her and there wasn't a peep out of her.

Today

Cleo has had a busy day helping Bert in the polytunnel. I think she will sleep well tonight. So will I.

The Old and the Young

 

Spot the odd one out

It seems such a short time since Judy and the pigs were new. All of them reach their teens this summer, which is old for dogs and pigs. Jess is coming eleven so she's not so far behind them while Fred, the oldest of all will soon be fifteen.  Nellybert are feeling a bit creaky too but at least we have Pippin, young and lively and doing well despite her awful accident.

Now, it might be a crazy idea but Pippin won't be the baba of the house for much longer as Nellybert are getting a PUPPY! The pigs won't care, Judy will be stoical, Fred will be mildly put out, Jess will hate it and Pippin? Pippin will be thrilled. Somebody new to play with.

Doggy Day Care

 

Lulu - 7 night stay, full board. Fee - one bottle of Dingle gin.

Nellybert has been doing Doggy Day Care for the last few days. Lulu (above) is still with us and settling into a nice routine. Up bright and early, toilette, breakfast. Back to bed with Bert for two-hour lie-in. Up again around 10, breakfast again, run around yard, follow Nelly everywhere, light lunch, run around yard, hang out with Ziggy, schmooze with every caller, run around yard, stand in front of every vehicle that enters or leaves yard, including farm vehicles, and the bigger the better. Supper, rat patrol, put hens in, bark for 30 minutes, beat Nellybert into submission, sit on laps for an hour or more, evening pee, rat patrol, treat, bed with Nelly, under quilt, of course. Nighty-night. Big sleep, wake up and repeat.

Rex - 2 night stay, full board. Fee - one very good Prosecco which I did not share with Bert.

Rex is back with Swisser. His stay was a short one. Most callers thought him the handsomest collie X in the world. He got on well with Lulu although the two nights they were both here were very hard on Jess who became bad with her nerves. Rex, her litter mate, is naturally dominant which his sister resents. Jess dislikes all her litter mates apart from Dora. Ziggy was not impressed with Rex at all but at least Zigs can escape to his own apartments. Judy? She ignores the whole lot of them.

Judy

Jess Dora

Ziggy

An Early Start

 Judy the Rude insisted that I get up at five this morning so she could go pee. She's old and her bladder doesn't function as well as it did. I get that. I'm old too. After we'd both done the needful I returned to bed but couldn't sleep. It was light just before six so I got up, had coffee and watched the birds at breakfast. There were newcomers today. A pair of siskins. 

The goldfinches brought a few more of their kind to the table, not quite a charm near enough and there were more chaffinches than usual. A good start to my day.

The new seeds I bought yesterday at Pets at Home are going down well with the finches. I'll get a really big bag next time.

All that before collecting Martha and Evie for Home Schooling Thursday. The last two sessions were really good but today they were a bit fractious. There was an incident with a fireside poker and I had to explain lethal weapons and then get a bit shouty. Proper school from next Monday.

Martha had a Teams music lesson at three and her teacher noticed the picture of the guitar player on the wall behind her. 

He wondered who it was, suggested Robert Johnson. But it's not. Too old, for Johnson died at 27,  and too round-faced as Johnson had a long face. Long as a Lurgan spade. So not Robert Johnson. 

The only clue I have because I bought it in a charity shop was that it was one of three in the same style and the other two were of Louis Armstrong. Any suggestions? Anyone?

We Are All Old Now

I thought that when old Roy died that life with just two dogs, two cats and two pigs might be easier. I thought wrong. Roy might have been the oldest codger in town but he wasn’t the only one.

For Holly de Cat is thirteen and Big Fat Fred just a year younger. Judy will be ten in the summer and Jess eight in October. Rusty and Lily are ten this year too. They must be two of the oldest pigs in County Antrim. Bert and I both have our bus passes. Nellybert’s is no longer a Party House. We’re a Retirement Home!

Reason for this moan? I am rudely awakened every morning by the dogs needing to go pee. This morning it was six o’clock when Jess was headbutting my bedroom door. Then, when Big Fat Fred sees me he makes it clear he is ready for breakfast so I give him a little something in his bowl and return to bed for horrible anxiety dreams.* When Fred has finished eating he stands at the bottom of the stairs and gowls to be let into my private, secret sitting room. I prefer to keep that room closed as a dog (probably Judy) has a liking for peeing on my antique carpet.

Although Judy has been having fewer ‘accidents’ since the vet put her on the amazing tightening up the urethra drug. It’s also noticeable that her coat is glossier and she seems to have more energy. I’m seriously considering taking this medication myself as I too would benefit from a glossy mane, extra energy and a better functioning urethra.

The oldest pigs in the parish

*This morning's anxiety dream was all about Zoe having coronavirus and Bert and his friends using my best vintage china for ashtrays.

Dog Talk

Judy, poor pooch, is unwell and is in doggy hospital. What seemed like an ordinary upset stomach (lots of boking and loss of appetite) has turned out to be an infection. Bert knew last night that she was sick when one of her favourite visitors turned up and instead of the usual ecstatic welcome, loud barking, full-body wiggling and jumping up, all she could manage was a few woofs, and a few tail wags before staggering back to her favourite armchair.

Jess is distraught. What didn't help is that we are looking after Zoe's dog Maya for a few nights and I think Jess believes we have swapped dogs. So I took her with me on a trip to Ikea to cheer her up. Which was OK until I decided to take her for a bit of a walk to cheer her up even more. The first 15 minutes were fairly OK but by the time we passed Decathlon she was not in good form. I realised that the constant road traffic, the people and the noise of the planes were affecting her. She is not a city dog. We started walking back and she looked so cringey and scared that I started to think that people might think I'd stolen her and was wondering how I could convince anyone, who might challenge me on that point, that I wasn't a dog-rustler.

One thing is for sure. She won't be going walkies in a built-up environment, next to an airport ever again.

Where Jess belongs.

Screaming At The Moon

It's the Wolf Moon tonight, the first full moon of the year and so-called because wolves howl a lot at this time of the year. There was also a penumbral lunar eclipse but too much cloud cover to see anything. It would have been better observed had it been last night when skies were clear and the moon, nearly full, was beautiful. No howling wolves here but foxes woke me from sleep with their screeching and screaming. It was close to the house, maybe as near as the orchard and when I opened the window I could hear twigs and branches snapping so maybe in the overgrown wilderness behind Hannah's rooms. 

I listened for a while. They were much too close to the chicken run for my liking although the hens were securely locked up. But, mating season and they were preoccupied with other matters. Hens were unperturbed as were the dogs. I closed the window and returned to bed. Excitement over.

Then dreamed an amusing dream about fervent Unionists rallying against Nationalism. A purple car containing Shinners was driving around Ballymena terrorising the locals. The Orange Order was mobilised, a pipe band skirled up and down Wellington Street and people strode purposefully around costumed as B Specials, WWI volunteers and nurses. There might have been wooden guns. My role was to pour oil on troubled waters, to bolster confidence, to explain that things weren't as bad as they thought. There was also something about working in a hairdressing shop in Harryville and wanting to give up the position, but feeling that I needed the money and then remembering that I was a pensioner and need never go out to work again. That was a relief. 

I woke up to Judy's cold, nudging nose and this gorgeous morning sky and...

wallflower in bloom. In January?

Blue Sky Day

A shortie with photies. Nellybert took the dogs for a walk on the beach at the gloriously, beautiful Whitepark Bay and Bert used his backpack, a backpack so sadly missed on our trip to Rathlin Island. In it, he carried a bottle of water, two mandarin oranges and binoculars. And, whilst on the beach, a pair of Converse and some stripey socks.  

Here Bert throws a stick for the dogs. I told him that his stick-throwing is of a standard that is positively Olympian. For husbands with dodgy knees need to have their spirits raised.

No sign of sore knees here although none of this pack are getting any younger.

Herding Pigs

Roy is on a course of antibiotics and does not like them. However, he is prepared to take them if I encase them in a thick layer of soft cheese. His anti-inflammatory meds are administered by syringe and both he and Judy find this more palatable. It seems like such a short time ago that I remarked to Bert,

Isn't it great having young dogs and no vet's bills to pay!

At least they are both in good enough form. Balls to be played with (Judy) and pigs to be herded (Roy and Judy). Our pigs are the best-herded pigs in the country.

It is Day Two of the quiet house. Hannah has landed safely somewhere in the Canaries. She was vague as to exactly where or maybe I wasn't listening. Anyways, as long as she has a wonderful time - that's the main thing.

Jumping Judy

Judy went back to see Kim today for a check-up and she's doing well. Her form has improved so the medication is working for her. I thought she'd be anxious when we drove into the car park but not a bit of her. Padded in ready to be friends with everyone. And delighted to see Kim again - even licked her face.

Time passes quickly for dogs. It seems no time since Judy was this small.

That's the first day we brought her home. Before she got into her jumping stride.

The following pictures are stills from a video. Judging by the size of Miss Martha Judy must have been under two years old. Her prime. Those jumping days are over now.

Martha was amazed!

Many dog years later lying around on damp grass chewing sticks. No wonder her joints are sore.

Judy Starts Feeling Her age

About a month ago Bert noticed Judy wincing when she jumped on to beds. We both put it down to a minor injury which was wishful thinking. She was also hesitant getting into the van and on walks, she was far more sedate. So five days ago we took her to the vet. 

Judy has had little experience in the vet’s office. At first, she was so pleased – new lovely girls to schmooze with! But then - we left her! And those lovely girls stuck a sharp needle in her leg and she woke up in a pen, feeling groggy and all alone.

While she was sedated she had two X-rays and it turns out that she has moderate arthritis in one hip joint and mild in the other. She isn't even eight years old but the vet said that once a dog is over seven it is considered to be elderly.

So, she's on some kind of medication trial and goes back to the vet's office on Friday. Supposed to be taking it easy and she certainly has. She has had lots of extra attention and petting and the meds do seem to be helping her.

Zoe said we should think of giving her herbal medications too. There is a Dorwest pill, Garlic & Fenugreek Tablets For Dogs And Cats that our old dog Danny took and that seemed to do him a lot of good. He was still going strong in his seventeenth year when he died in a road traffic accident.*

Judy is a very loveable dog and there have been lots of inquiries regarding her wellbeing. Our friend Richard called the other day and told us of a very efficacious treatment that his brother had procured from Pets at Home for his ancient labrador. It seems the old dog is doing so well on it that our friend’s father has decided to start taking it too. The results have been very good and the old fellow has been rising every morning feeling as lithe as a sixteen-year-old. I wasn’t able to ascertain the name of this wonder drug but we have decided we will wait until our human guinea pig has been on the pills for at least two months before we follow his lead. Unless, as Richard says, his father starts running around the yard barking at birds in which case we might hesitate.

* Bert ran over Danny. We sometimes wonder if the old codger committed suicide. He was nearly blind and very deaf and the only eye-witness (Pearlie) said his death was immediate.

The Amazing Jumping Smarm-Hound

Bert: C'mon Judester, show Charlie your amazing jumping abilities.

Judy: Sure thing Dawds! Just waiting until the stupid collie gets out of my way.

Charlie: Complete arsehole...

Bert: Clever girl, Judes!

Charlie: Sad human-pleaser, Judes!

Bert: Don't listen to him Jude. You're awesome.

Judy: Am I Dawds, am I?

Judy: Kiss, kiss, slurp, slurp.
Charlie: (offside)  Puke, puke, retch, retch.