March Or Die

[Sweder]

Ah yes Stillwaddler, those Lurcher pups. Another darned good reason for me to unearth those running boots and take to the hills; I've got me two new running mates.

Ripley & Murphy are doing extremely well. They are very different souls, he being a chilled-out Dude, inquisitive yet able to 'chillax' after a mad half-hour. She is a livewire, a real jack-in-the-box and downright naughty. It remains to be seen if she is, as Mrs S would have you believe, 'evil'. My good lady turned to me one week after I bropught them home and said
'It's Tess - she's come back to haunt us!'

Time will tell. For now it's terrific fun watching them get to grips with the outside world. I feel like Thumper in Bambi, naming all the strange new things we find on our twice-daily rambles. 'Bird; horse; flower; dog; large dog; come back!' and so forth. They've started to develop that classic long-dog running style; belly flat to the ground, neck extended, ears back, jaws set in a determined grin. To see them running full tilt is to see the joy of life before you; your heart soars, spirits lift as you silently witness pure running motion in action. I could watch them all day. Alas, with their young bones still soft and forming I have to restrict their outdoor adventures to two fifteen-minute walks. They feed rapaciously, play tirelessly and chew up any kind of footwear in the comfort of their lair, Willow's old cell, or crate as they are now known in the modern world of dogs.


Murphy (blue collar) and Ripley (red) at the gate from Landsport Bottom