Posted by: kathandroger | July 16, 2017

Walking the dog and mog.

We are blessed with having lots of pretty walks from our back door. Some go up the hill, some go down the hill, and all have their charms. We have recently spent some time keeping tracks clear with secateurs, but in general the paths are open, and it is a very rare occasion when we meet another walker. We are surrounded by opening sunflowers at the moment, and this is the view from the shack on top of our land.IMG_0854The Sloe hedge in the foreground is now under control after attacking it with the chain saw last year, and it is a wonderful place to sit and watch the sun go down in the evening. We have yet to do it this year!

Polly the wayward puppy seems to have recovered from her illness and is newly off her steroid drugs. Her terrier awkwardness has resurfaced, and commands are only obeyed after a period of consideration. She does love her walks though, and Dennis the cat, having been raised by a dog, often comes along with us. So it was last evening when Kath stayed to do the watering of our dozens of plants, and Polly and I went on up the hill. It was only after a few minutes that I saw that Dennis was following us and he then seemed intent on ambushing the dog, jumping out of the bushes to attack his playmate. The dog is usually the aggressor in their fights, but in the bushes, the speed and agility of the feline makes her very frustrated and unable to follow her foe. It all settled down for a few minutes, with the dog and cat walking calmly along the track, and me speaking wise and worldly words to them both. There is something very settling in talking to dumb animals; they never contradict, listen intently, and to me seem to be both educated and inspired by my fine words. At least that is what I like to think. Polly will listen intently until a pile of something disgusting is scented. She then likes to roll over and over in whatever it is, usually old decaying and putrid. Dennis looks on in wonder at the stupidity of dogs and sometimes sits to preen himself in front of her. Their chasing each other then continued, the cat knowing that when we reached the road the dog would be on its lead and restricted in its hounding ability. We were walking quite peacefully along the road, beside a very steep bank up to the maize field, when Dennis attacked at speed and took the little dog by surprise. Vengeance had to be immediate and violent and Polly raced up the bank in hot pursuit of his feline foe. With such force that the extending lead I was using was wrenched from my hand and disappeared up the bank like a startled snake. Now, the maize fields are now about two metres high and cover several acres. The thought of our angry dog chasing the teasing cat through nearly impenetrable jungle filled me with horror; the dog would be lost and confused by the plants, and the cat would amble home looking self satisfied. There was no alternative but for me to climb up the steep bank and try to retrieve the animal. Needless to say my shoes were not fit for purpose and it was only after several slips and cusses and tugging on tussocks of slippery grass that I managed to ascend the dangerous climb, my fury being tempered by the need for rescue. In the time it had taken to climb the bank the animals could have been miles away. But as luck would have it, the long lead, and the circuitous route the cat had taken meant that the little dog had been snared within a few metres of the edge of the field. She was retrieved without problem, but there then remained the difficult descent back to the road. The bum is a useful piece of anatomy in these situations, and it was with a degree of inelegance but with a smooth slide that the road was reached. We made it home in one piece, the dog and I. The cat followed a few minutes later, looking very pleased with himself.


  1. Marvellous story.
    I am familiar with that feeling of panic as a dog disappears into the undergrowth trailing its lead. Naughty Dennis! Glad it was a happy ending.

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