Posts Tagged ‘dog walking’

I joined the Family History Writing Challenge (a post a day for the whole of Feb) after one too many. Clicks, I mean. Clicking around various blogs, I saw FHWC and thought – yes – that’ll be a good excercise. And so it is.
But it’s absolutely doing my head in!
Words  – they’re slippery little sods. They’re all around me all the time – written, broadcast, blethering away in my head. Then I get a chance to sit down and write and, as soon as I try to corral some for my own use, they’re off – gone – scattered to the four winds. Bastards.
Hang on, though. Now I’m wondering – maybe its not just Words at fault – aha – maybe they’re in cahoots with Thoughts! Everything’s so clear when I’m walking the dog, having a little think about what I’m going to write in my blog today. It all makes sense, and I’m happy. But come the time to face the keyboard, and – nothing. Emptiness. Space, the final frontier. Even my notes make no sense.

Perhaps it is Words, after all.
Perhaps it’s a conspiracy.
Or perhaps it’s just Friday and I’m knackered.
Tomorrow is another word…


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Ten years of dog owning means roughly 7,300 dog walks. No wonder I’ve been getting slightly cheesed off with the twice daily chore (credit where it’s due, though – hubby does weekends!) Winter’s worst – it seems no sooner have you returned from the morning plod and cleaned the hairy hound, than it’s time to go out again before the light fails. However, a change is afoot.
Perhaps it’s the coming of Spring with the lightening of the evenings and fattening of buds, but my pleasure in walking the dog is returning – partly because I find the dog walk a great opportunity for mulling over writing ideas. And I’ve shaved her, so she’s a lot less hassle to clean. Only kidding. But I did kinda ‘prune’ her slightly…
Schmaltz alert – non dog-lovers look away now…
I wouldn’t be without her for the world, although I know there will come a day when this will have to be faced. Dogs make such fantastic companions. We weren’t prepared for how much we’d feel for this funny hairy being when we tentatively welcomed her into our lives.
I’ve just read Grandfather’s 1914 essay ‘My Dog’. It’s a cracking description of a little character of a dog he owned, which I think he was pretty soft on.

Qoute from My Dog

In this extract, he also hints at feelings for a girl with brown eyes and I think that it was she who later became his wife. I was always told – as the only brown-eyed person in the family – that I took after my grandmother. It gives me a strange sense of continuity to read it, especially as I never knew any of my grandparents.
Anyway, as is the way with dog-owners, there’s no more time for indulging in this blogging lark, duty calls – there’s a tummy to be tickled…

Jess - tickle my tummy!

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