In Summer when the lime trees are in full leaf they block my view of the lane from upstairs. In Summer it is warm and there is so much life outdoors I don’t want to sit upstairs anyway. Under our lime tree is a big dense Mahonia. There used to be a holly bush too but F cut it down. The Mahonia is quite prickly, but the holly was worse.
When Mr B mows the lawns he throws the clipping under that Mahonia. F rakes all the lime tree leaves under there too. Now there is a deep, soft, comfortable napping place hidden in the thickets of my prickly bush. My prickly bush sweeps right down the embankment to the footpath so from my elevated, comfortable, hidden place I can maintain my surveillance of traffic on the lane – undetected. Undetected at least by humans. They pass within 3 tail lengths of me and never know I’m there.
Dogs are a different story. The towing dogs usually pant right on past, tugging at their humans. It’s the dogs not on strings that I am alert for. They dash about here and there, snuffle at the undergrowth, linger over vaguely interesting smells, read the stories left by other dogs, and leave stories of their own. They are loose canons. They might find a napping cat, even chase it if it was silly enough to run.
I could spend my summer days in the walled garden at the back (watching my bees), and sometimes I do, but where’s the challenge in that? Where’s the daring, the adrenaline surge, fluffed out tail, flashing eyes and claws, ecstatic moment of springing the surprise on that stupid dog nose poked into my bush?
dear sweet Angel Tigger, we know what you describe. way back in 1986, we were walking our dog Max on his string. walking at a fast pace, suddenly Max dove under a car we were walking past. out came Bogie, Bogie was huge and looked just like you. we had no idea he was under the car. We still talk about the set too... Bogie came out walking on his hind legs, batting and slashing like Rocky. he followed us down the street as Daddy pulled Max toward home. we were laughing our heads off as Bogey boxed his way a full 1/4 of the block on his hind legs. slashing claws, and eyes and we had adrenaline running too. thanks for the memory jogger
ReplyDeleteMr T was never quite that brave. I wish he had been because he suffered two dog attacks that we know of (found out about well after the event) we were just left wondering about puncture wounds and limping and abcesses - and trips to vet.
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