Warning - short story, another one of my rambles…
Again, not a sitter story, but a Springer one, @Angela-HeadOfCommunity @Colin
I have had a few Springers over the years, all rescues or from the dog home.
My first, Brandy, was a lovely old man, about 10 years old when I got him in 1990, I think. His owner had died, and the family couldn’t look after him, so when I spotted him at the local cat and dog home, with his lead and collar hanging on the side of the cage, I just knew. I only had him a couple of years, he had epilepsy and sadly didn’t recover from one of his events.
Next was Prince, or MR Prince, again from the dog home. Still a bit older, about 7 I guess, he was very much a spur-of-the-moment thing. Again, a random visit to the dog home, and I walked away with him – so I had 3 dogs… Back then it was just a. case of asking about a dog, handing over about £10, and that was it.
I had Prince for about 5 years. That’s him in the middle.
My next was Pip. I had a caravan in Aviemore, from 2003, and in 2005 I spotted an ad in the local newsagent window – home wanted for an older Springer lady. So guess what?
She was a star, so well trained, my best pal for about 6 years, went everywhere with me.
Now to get to the point.
When Mrs Pip passed, I decided not to get another dog for a while.
After 20 years I wanted a long lie in the morning.
I got involved with a rescue charity in Scotland, SpringerrescueforScotland, but after only 3 months I met Duffy. He was a real character. About 7 years old with a bit of history.
Really prey driven.
The biggest, friendliest dog ever indoors, but outside – birds, Squirrels, rabbits, leaves – anything that moved he chased.
So, after meeting him, knowing his history, I adopted him!
Not long after I got him, we were walking in the Cairngorm mountains above Aviemore, he was on the lead – (he was never off the lead) - when he spotted something and slipped his collar, and headed off into the hills. I set off after him, but he was so fast. It must have been early afternoon.
There is a Bothy nearby (an abandoned cottage, used by hill walkers for shelter) so I waited there for a few hours, calling him, walking around a bit, but nothing. Eventually, I headed off the mountain as it was getting dark.
I drove back to my caravan, packed a bag with some food, a torch, and sleeping bag and headed back up the hill in the dark – it was about an hour off the road. Back at the Bothy I lit a fire, laid out some food outside for him, and settled down for the night.
It is amazing how many people are about in the mountains at night! The Bothy was on a track between two valleys, and apparently, it is very popular to cycle between them at night, in the dark.
And people climb mountains in the Dark! At about 10 pm, a group of walkers appeared, left a pile of backpacks and headed off into the night to climb the nearest hill. I was a bit uncomfortable with all this activity, so decided to head down the mountain and start my search in the morning (Sunday).
The next day, I must have walked over 30 km up and down the track, shouting and whistling for Duffy.
When I first made it back to the Bothy, a young couple were there, having spent the night (no idea when they arrived) so I asked if they had seen my dog.
“No, but we did hear some scratching at the door, it was a bit scary…”
Anyway, I still didn’t find him on Sunday.
Monday morning, I phoned a couple of local outdoor centres and the local youth hostel asking them to look out for him – they run hillwalking/climbing classes in the mountains.
Just as I was about to head off to start my search again, I got a phone call.
“I have your dog, he was in my garden this morning, so I have given him some soup, and he is sleeping now”
He had made his way off the mountain and stopped at the very first house on the road. I went to collect Him, and he just looked at me, and jumped into the back of my car, as if this was normal.
Almost 48 hours later.
I had him for 5 years, strapped to my arm. Big softy.
This is just a random post…
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