BLACK POOL

I don’t know where we’re going.  Instead of heading towards the beach, we’re walking down a path along the side of our house.  I’ve never even seen this path before. 

But it has plenty of bushes and trees, so I’m happy!  All these new scents to sniff are enough to make any chap glad.  So it doesn’t really matter where we’re going as there’s such pleasure right here.

Mum has gone on ahead.  I’ve noticed she doesn’t ever stop to sniff things.  Doesn’t she know how pleasurable sniffing is?

Now she’s clapping her hands.  Why’s that?  I run to catch her up and find out why.

Oh gosh!  There are huge creatures in front of us.  They are even bigger than the ponies and they’re black and white like me.  One of them is looking at me funnily.

I back off and bark at him.  Mum claps her hands again and says to me: “Don’t worry.  These heifers won’t hurt us.  They’re just curious, as they’ve probably never seen a Beardie before.  Let’s put you on the lead while we cross their field.”

I feel uneasy.  There are so many heifers and their curiosity is bothering me.  Do I look like food to them?  They have big mouths and very long legs.

But Mum is moving, so I need to move too.  Forward we go, together, and the heifers let us.  I bark to show them I’m not scared.  “We’ll soon be there,” says Mum. 

“Where’s ‘there’?” I ask. 

“The far corner of the field,” she answers.  “See that stile?  Once we’re on its other side we’ll be alright.”

It’s a relief to leave the heifers behind.  Off comes my lead again and off I run to explore more scents.

There are lots and lots of trees.  Oh, and here’s a little stream!  I plop my two front paws in while I drink from it.  Then I flop into the middle with a satisfactory splash.  This isn’t the sea, but it’s quenching my thirst and my fur’s spreading out around me in the water.

Then Mum calls.  Shall I run to her, or linger a little longer?  “Sam!” she calls again.  “Come and see where the stream leads us!”

That does it.  I want to know where we’re going and what else is in store.  So I answer her call.

“These woods,” Mum tells me, “will be abundant with garlic and bluebells soon.  They’ll be even prettier then than they are today.”

I look up at her, liking the sound of her words though their meaning isn’t altogether clear.  What’s that I can hear?

“Yes,” Mum says, when she sees me pricking up my ears, “it is what you think it is!”

I race on ahead, reaching a little wooden bridge.  On the far side of it is a kind of mountain.  I climb up, over loads of smooth white stones.  By the time I reach the top I can see that my ears had not deceived me.

There’s no sand, like on our usual beach – just stones, all the way down to the sea.  There’s something else as well.  I look where Mum is looking and can see a gigantic black pool.

“It looks black because it’s very, very deep,” Mum tells me.  “Do I need to put on your lead or will you promise not to try swimming in it?”

I don’t know why she thinks I’d want to swim in still black water when the restless sea is beckoning me.  So I put my head on one side and give a little bark to reassure her.

Just then two gulls fly over to greet me and  I’m quickly following them to the sea.

INITIATION

I’ve just found a friend.  Or he has found me.  He’s waiting by our front gate as Mum and I set off for the beach.

He’s a friendly fellow with a waggy tail.  Both our tails are wagging.  Bet Mum wishes she had a long tail to wag!

She was cross with me yesterday after I shook that black mud over her and Violet.  But how was I to know that shaking myself was as bad as jumping up?  Nobody said it was till after I’d done it.  Humans sometimes have strange ways of doing things.

Still, Mum’s happy again now – and today’s a new day.

I can see ponies ahead.  They’re so big that I always stay well away.  My friend isn’t doing that, though.  He’s running right up to them.  Oh heck!

I’d better go and show that I’m not afraid of them either.  Except that I am a bit scared.  Looking up at Mum, I see that she knows how I feel.  She smiles, saying: “Be true to yourself.  Don’t just shadow Hector.  Only do it if it feels okay.”

I think I get her gist.  Suddenly I feel braver.  Those ponies are grazing.  They’re showing little interest in my friend.  So why would they be interested in me?

I edge closer … then closer still.  One of them lifts his head and snorts and I draw back a bit.  But next minute he’s eating grass again.  I wonder what grass tastes like.  I’ll try it sometime.

I suppose they are not actually all that big.  And they aren’t fierce.  They’re simply doing their usual thing and minding their own business.  I needn’t have been frightened.

Hector’s off again.  How did Mum know my new friend’s name?  Now he’s barking at seagulls.  I join in.  This is such fun!  The gulls start diving at us and we both jump up, trying to take wing.

Why weren’t we given wings, I wonder?  It’s the biggest of my wonderings.  But nobody seems to be answering - so I’ll just get on with the next thing.

We’ve followed the gulls to the castle and now we’re almost flying down the steep sandy path to the beach.  I expect Mum’s somewhere behind me, but I can’t stop to turn and see.

Hector is in the river ahead of me – but only just.  We’re both swimming across and there are still gulls above us.  They probably wish that they could swim like this and that they had four legs to run on.

“Can’t you run any faster than that?” calls Hector as we set off on the Oxwich side of the beach.  “Race you to the rock!”

There’s an enormous rock jutting up from the sand part way across.  I’m bigger than Hector and have longer fur.  So I can run fastest, I’m almost sure.

I send this message (without the ‘almost’) to my paws.  They begin bouncing over the sand almost as if each one has wings.  This is fantastic!  It’s the nearest thing to flying.  We’re leaving Hector behind.

I can’t see him now that he’s behind me, but I can see … the rock!  Reaching it breathlessly, I turn to greet Hector – as if being the winner is no big deal.

Pretending not to be bothered, he plunges into a large rock pool.  I plunge in too.  It’s where we are, with lots of little fish, when Mum finds us.

“Well,” she says, “I’m glad you two are friends!  Whatever are you planning to do next?”

We leave the rock pool and shake ourselves.  I notice that Mum stands well back as we do this.  Does she think I’ve forgotten the mud incident? 

Hector is off to the sea.  There are great waves today.  When the waves are this big I stay away.

“Come on!” calls Hector as he starts barking at the surfers.  “We can do what they’re doing.”

“Can we?” I ask uncertainly.

But Hector is already doing it – throwing himself into the sea and then letting it bring him back towards me.

“Just ride the waves!” he shouts over their roar.

Ride them?  How?  I don’t know how, but maybe I don’t need to know.  Maybe I just need to do as Hector’s doing.  He’s obviously having fun doing it.

So in I go.  This is scary, but copying Hector also begins to be … thrilling.  The sea is lifting me.  It’s a bit like having wings.  Yes, I’m … flying!  I never want this to stop.

Finally our fun is over and we’re going home.  I’m so tired that my paws are heavy instead of light.  I’m almost wishing to be still small enough for Mum to carry me.

But that wouldn’t look good in front of Hector.  By our garden gate, before running off, he says: “’Bye then!”

Later, when I’ve eaten and slept, Mum tells me: “That, Sam, seems to have been your initiation into getting the best from our environment.  I doubt you’ll ever forget Hector’s lessons.”

Is that her way of saying this has been a great day?

MORE REAL DOG STORIES

Today we are not going to the beach.  We're going to see Violet - one of Mum's friends.  She's elderly, Mum tells me, so I mustn't jump up.  I must BEHAVE.

Okay! I know about behaving.  I find out about it by misbehaving.  But I won't be misbehaving today because I'm learning to like praise.  When Mum praises me she smiles and there's a lovely light in her eyes.  I hope she can see I'm on my best behavior!

We're driving to Violet's place.  I like sitting next to Mum in the car, with my paw on her knee.  But today I'm in the back seat so that Violet can sit in the front. Hm!

"Ah, there you are!"  The lady is standing in her front doorway.  "As you can see, I'm ready and waiting."

I like the look of Violet.  She has nice eyes and she's wearing a white dress.  With her hair as well, I'm seeing a lot of whiteness.

Mum helps her into the car, although Violet says she doesn't need help.  Then we're off again.

"I thought we'd go to the park," says Mum.  "We'll see the sea from there, but it'll be too far from us for Sam to go and plunge in.  The last thing I want is for him to get wet and shake himself over your beautiful dress."

"You wouldn't do that, would you, Sam?" Violet asks me, after turning her head in my direction.  "I can't imagine you doing such a thing."

I like the way she speaks to me.  She seems a very sweet lady.

We reach the park and Mum puts me on the lead.  I wish she would just trust me.  Well, when I find smells she and her friend will need to wait while I sniff them.  They'd be better off setting me free.

"Other dogs are not on leads," Violet tells Mum after a while. "So why is Sam tied to us like this?  It isn't fair on him."

She's right, of course.  It isn't fair at all.  I watch Mum's face for favorable signs.  "It's your pristine dress that worries me," she says.  "If Sam forgets himself and jumps up, there could be grass stains ... or ... or ... "

"It hasn't rained for days," Violet states, "and anyway, what's a grass stain or two between friends?  Let poor Sam enjoy himself."

I'm liking Violet more and more as Mum gives in, whispering to me as she removes my lead: "Remember to behave.  No jumping up, or I'll be the crossest I've ever been."

That does it.  I'm going to be so good that Mum will never get cross with me again.  I start off by walking to heel, just as I've been trained.  I look up at Mum and she smiles at me.  I can see she thinks I'm being a good boy.

Here's a pretty little girl giving me a admiring glance.  She has long blonde fur and walks with rather a twirl.  I follow her.

We do a bit of appreciative sniffing and then her human calls her and off she goes, tail in the air.  I look around me - and see an enormous tree.  I should find some good smells over there.  So off I trot.

Well, this is better than I expected!  As well as smells there's lots of black gungy stuff all round the tree trunk. In I plunge.

This is such fun.  If I turn on my back, kicking my legs in the air, there's a smell everywhere.  And I can't see my fur as it's oozing with mud.

"Sam, Sam ... where are you, Sam?"

Mum can see where I am, can't she?  No, perhaps she can't.  I'd better stand up and show her that I'm right here by this tree.

"There he is.  Oh, just look at him!"  says Violet.

"I'm looking," Mum tells her as I bound over to them, "and I'm not liking what I see."

Is she saying she doesn't like me?  She can't be!  Mum loves me.  I know she does.  And I love her - hugely.  To express my love and show that I know not to jump up and how to behave I go over to them both and give myself a vigorous shake.

REAL DOG STORIES

These are real dog stories.  I know, because they're mine ... and I'm a Beardie.

When Mum and I cross the road from our front gate we're instantly on the moors leading to Three Cliffs Bay.  That's so GREAT!  It means that I can run free straightaway.  Once I'm running, the wind coming from the sea lifts my fur and almost lifts me.

Maybe, when there's a stronger wind it will lift me right up so that I can fly with the gulls. They fly so effortlessly, as high as they like, yet I can't seem even to get started . Why?

Sometimes I feel the gulls are laughing at me.  They swoop down and, just as I'm about to catch one and have a chat about how to grow wings, they lift off again, beyond my reach. But I won't be beaten! I'll keep trying to fly till I succeed ...   

P.S. In my picture I'm taking a breather as the seagulls I've chased to the beach soar skywards without me!                              

STORIES DOG

I like telling stories dog. Or should that be dog stories? I'm new to this, so I'm not sure.  Today is an odd day.  Mum and I are visiting her friend, Yvonne, who is unhappy because she has lost her cat.

But the cat is not lost!  I know, because I am watching him.  Peter is doing his usual thing.  When he comes in, he goes to the sofa and jumps up on to the arm at this end.  Then he stretches before walking slowly across the top of the sofa to the end farthest from the window and settling himself.

He always does this.  It's a habit of his.  And he just passed right by me before jumping up.  But nobody noticed - other than me, that is!

Now Mum and Yvonne are talking and I'm listening in.

"Sam's behaving strangely," says Mum.  "Look at him."

(By the way, there's nothing strange about my behavior.   I'm simply lying here observing things!)

"You're just saying that to take my mind off Peter," Yvonne tells her.

"No, I'm not.  Watch his eyes and general demeanor.  I reckon he can see Peter."

"See him?  Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, you know what they say about dogs ... "

"No.  What?"

"That their vision is very different from ours - that they can often see spirits and ... and such like.  And Sam's eyes have been following the exact route Peter takes every night when he comes in from outside.  Look at him now.  He's gazing at the spot where Peter always curls up to sleep.  Remember how they stared at each other sometimes, as if trying not to blink? That's what they're doing right this minute - I'm sure of it."

Now they're both looking at me.  I feel a bit sheepish.  Why on earth can't they see what I'm seeing?

"Really?" asks Yvonne.  "You aren't just saying that to make me miss Peter less?"

"You should know me better than that - and learn from Sam.  When I first had him, I thought I'd be the teacher and he the pupil.  But mostly it's the other way round and he's the one doing the teaching.  So believe him and me that you haven't lost Peter.  We both just lack Sam's vision."

Well, how about that?  It doesn't seem to matter that I can't tell the difference between dog stories and stories dog!

NAUGHTY ME!

Mum said I was naughty for leaving the car when she'd left me in there. She sounded frantic when calling me - then mad when I ran back to her.  Why was she mad?

When I asked her, she answered that at first she thought I'd been dog-napped. She believed I must have been, because it was impossible for me to leave a car with both doors closed and only a tiny window half-open. That shows what she knows (or doesn't know)!

Then she fretted that I could have broken all my legs, dropping so far from the window to our front drive. Once I'd shown her that nothing was broken she was really cross for a while.  I didn't understand why.  Did Mum want me to have broken bones?  

When she was calm again, she said she had been scared that I was either lost or injured - then astonished that I had achieved such a feat.  Finally, she got cross to stop me doing any more of what she called 'disappearing tricks'.  She ended up telling me she loved me.

Well, I love her too ... but I obviously have a lot to learn about humans!

THAT'S ME - IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT!

Today we've been out for a drive.  Now we're home and instead of letting me into the house with her Mum says I must stay for a while in the car outside.  Why?  So that I can get used to guarding it in future, when I'm bigger and she's shopping and such like!

But being in here alone when we aren't going anywhere isn't much fun.  I'd far rather be out in the garden, exploring or finding new smells.  The question is, how to go about getting out ...

Mum's car is a blue Beetle.  The seats are blue too.  I've found that I can squeeze through the space between the seats and get from the back to the front easily.  Now I'm on the seat where Mum usually sits - behind the big wheel she holds when we're moving along.

Standing on my back legs, with my front paws on this wheel, I can just reach the little triangular window she has left open.  This is good progress!  But I need to do better to achieve my objective.

So I jump onto the wheel, falling to the floor at my first attempt.  Try again.  Back onto the seat, then front paws on the wheel ... and a big jump, bringing my back legs up until they are balancing on the lower rim and my tum is supported by the round bit in the middle.  This makes a funny sound, but Mum doesn't come running.

Good!  I can do this on my own, without her help.  I push the little window as wide as it will go.  Then I throw myself through it.

Wow ... it's a long way to the ground!  But I'm in mid-air now.  Next thing I know, my paws are bouncing down the drive towards the back garden, where the best smells are to be found.

Just when I'm enjoying my adventure, down among all the trees and bushes farthest from the house, I hear a sound that stops me in my tracks.  "Sam, Sam ... where are you, Sam?"

Mum sounds frantic.  Why's that?  Perhaps I'd better go and tell her where I am.