The Sands of Time

Whilst I was over east some weeks back, and having had one trip back in time meeting up with old climbing friends, I decided to take the dogs off to my old stomping ground.  For a number of years I lived in a tiny farm cottage just a few hundred yards from the sea.  It was idyllic and I have fond memories of that time.  For that reason, I didn't go near the house as I didn't want to corrupt the memories that are imprinted on my brain.  Instead, I drove to the next village and walked back along the shore to the mouth of the burn (stream) by which my cottage sat.

My Old House - the tiny one in the middle.

It was a gorgeous day with blue skies, fluffy white clouds, and some warmth to the air as well as in the sun.  The village gardens were full of the spring yellows and purples that my own garden used to have. 

Down at the beach, the sand was as clean and golden as I remember it, and the sea was crystal clear - with the smell of the North Sea which is so different to the Atlantic on the other side of the country - somehow it is fresher, saltier, and crisper. 

Sand and water - a paradise for dogs.

Even Tussock had a swim.
 

There is a new coastal walking path there now, but I stuck to the shore line to avoid any walkers, and also to allow the dogs to swim - and swim they did.  For about a mile, River and Talulah never came out of the water for more than a few seconds at a time.  Even Tussock went in for a swim.  I threw the ball a few times on setting off, but then lost it when I let go of the rope at the wrong moment and it ditched in the sea - and didn't float.  Ah well.

Queen of the ball - Tussock

Queen of the Seas - Talulah

As we got closer to my old home, the beach became more and more familiar - rocks we would sit on in the sunshine, our place of entry into the water for a swim - and we swam most days from March through to November!  There were the huge slabs of rock covered in fossilised tracks of creatures who lived hundreds of millions of years ago, and the rocks jutting out into the water which were safe to dive from.  On one memorable midnight swim, I dove in from these rocks to find the water full of phosphorescence - magical luminous yellow particles glowing as I disturbed the water in which they live.  As I swam creating disturbance and bubbles, I left a trail of bright yellow in the water behind me.  Magical.

Getting close - you can just see the salmon bothy in the distance.

My old beach.

My old beach - the diving rocks are on the left.

One sad sight was the old salmon bothy - in my time living here, the bothy was actually habitable, still with its wood panelling, stairs and attic.  One evening, my boyfriend and I had gone up into the old attic and found several hundred rounds of live ammunition which must have been stashed up there during the second world war.  We collected it up and took it to the police station in town - I will never forget the alarm of the lady officer on desk duty!!!  I am glad we removed it from site, as over the years the house has been emptied of everything burnable - I dread to think of what dreadful accident may have happened if some drunken fool had chucked these bullets on a camp fire.  Anyway, the bothy now has just two gable ends, a back wall, and a pile of rubble - with a sign saying "Dangerous - Keep Out".  The decay brought about by time and accelerated by vandalism.

A sad demise

Someone's pride and joy once upon a time.

I cried upon seeing this

Looking back to the bothy.

I can't believe in all the years I lived here, that this is the only picture I could find of the salmon bothy.

We walked as far as the burn mouth and I smiled as I remembered a funny moment.  From my house I could walk down our own side of the burn to what we called the "wee beach", or we could cross the burn and walk through the woods to the "big beach".  One evening, my neighbour and I walked to the wee beach, and in the guddle of getting changed to swim I didn't realise that Leroy had wandered off.  When I noticed his absence I started to call him - no response.  Eventually I realised I would have to go find him before he wandered too far.  I put my clothes back on and ran along the track towards the burn, calling all the way.  No response.  Finally I got to the burn, and saw him over the water, chatting up another dog who was with a group of people.  I stood there and called across the burn - he looked at me as if to say "You can't catch me!"  In frustration I eventually shouted "If you don't f****** come here I will f****** come and get you".  No response.  I stripped off to my underwear, waded into the water, swam across, trotted out up the bank, caught Leroy, pushed him into the water and swam back over pushing him all the way.  At the other side, I gathered up my clothes and trotted back into the bushes.  On the way back to the "wee beach" I mused on the fact that the people with the other dog were American, and grinned as I imagined their conversation on my departure: "Gee, they still have savages here"!!!

The burn mouth, and time to turn around.

Still smiling at this memory, I turned back the way I had come.  I was almost tempted to go for a swim, but had no towel or swimwear with me, and it was rather busy with people to be running around in my underwear.  We kept on walking other than stopping for our picnic where Talulah decided to dig a hole to rest in.  Only trouble was, by the time she was happy with the hole, it was time to move on.

When we reached the point where we lost the ball, the dogs rushed forward, obviously remembering it.  The tide was going out, and suddenly I spied the ball in the shallows.  I kept pointing it at it, saying "there it is" and one by one the dogs walked over it, past it, and even stood on it, but they didn't see it to bring it out.  Bit by bit my feet got wetter until finally Talulah spied it and picked it up triumphantly.

By now, the clouds were gathering a bit and there were a few spats of rain.  No matter - we had had a lovely walk.

Confession of a (bad) dog owner.

It has been a stressful few weeks in this particular hovie household, with Tussock being unwell, River having her first (and incredibly bloody) first season which has sent all hormones skewwhiff yet again and now last Sunday's events have certainly added to that stress.

 

It is actually quite hard to tell this tale, but hopefully in the telling, some of you will able to pat yourselves deservedly on the back since your dogs wouldn't do such a thing, or that you yourself wouldn't behave in such a manner, or perhaps some of you will recognise certain aspects within the situation and be able to avoid the farce I found myself in last Sunday.  It wasn't my finest hour. 

I went down to a friend's house where my young horse is currently staying, keeping another pony company, and allowing me access to the arena to do some more work with her.  The dogs always go with me - they help me pick up the poo in the field, chase the odd rabbit, play with a ball, take a dunk in the ditch and generally have a lot of fun.  They know to stay out of the arena whilst I am working with Mooi, and they never stray very far away, and come back to the shout.

This afternoon, however, when we had all jumped out of the car, my friend's husband was trying to get a motorbike started and asked if I could help them push it up to the road where they could take advantage of the slope.  I thought about putting the dogs in the car for a few minutes, but it was hot and didn't want them to be distressed, so they came with us - we would only be a couple of minutes. The bike was heavy and was slow to push, and the dogs ran on ahead.

First incident - a dog in a neighbouring garden - a squabble through the fence - I should have taken them back to the car at that point, but I didn't want to hold my friends up by faffing about with the dogs.  

 

We got up to the road, and gave the bike a push - no joy.  So we had to push it up the hill again.  I was so busy concentrating on pushing the bike and helping to keep it upright that I failed to notice the dogs wandering off in the direction of another neighbouring property. 

By the time we had got the bike to the top of the slope the second time, I realised there was a dog in the property they were visiting - I had forgotten there was a dog lived there and I had a sudden panic as all the girls were in season.  I hadn't worried too much about them as, historically, they have been content to hump one another and have never shown any attempts at roaming. I called them, and they did respond, but this dog was intent on being with the ladies and came with them despite his owner's calls.  I tried to catch him, but the owner called to say to just leave him and he would go back in his own time.

 

However, he was so intent on Talulah's bum, that I decided it would be better to catch him and take him back to his owner and she could hold him whilst I took my three away.  But he was none too keen on his collar being held and made moves to mouth me - deciding the safer option was to slip my jumper through his collar, I moved to do so - except he got away. 

 

I then thought I would just take all of them to the dog's own garden so is owner could take him - so we did.  Dog handed over, and I moved off.  At that point a chicken decided to put in an appearance.  Tussock decided to have a nosey - chicken wasn't happy about it - Tussock insisted - chicken ran - Tussock chased - chicken squawked  - Tussock caught - you get the drift.  By the time I got to the scene of the crime, the chicken breathed its last.  Despite my telling her off, Tussock decided to go look for another chicken, which she found - I ran after her - she dropped the now dead chicken - and went for yet another.

 

By this time I was pretty stressed, and I'm afraid that Tussock got a thumping when I finally caught her with the last chicken.  She vacated the killing fields in disgrace and at this point I realised the owner had let go of her dog and he was busy with Talulah behind me.

 

My language got worse and so did the volume.  And I probably made a non too pretty arse of myself.  I was angry at the dogs, angry at myself, angry at the world.  Once again, in helping someone else out, I put myself in a bad position and am now paying the emotional and financial cost. 

 

I have no idea why the dog's owner let him go again, or why she didn't catch him, or why she and my friend didn't make any attempt to prevent what was going on behind me.  I wish they had.

 

But the bottom line is - they are my dogs and I am responsible for them, and have to accept the consequences of anything they might do, or damage they might cause.  I let them down by putting them in that position - a bad decision on my part, and, as it would appear, not enough training for that kind of situation.  That said - all my dogs did come to me on my call to begin with - it was only once the chicken got in on the act that it all went pear shaped....

 

So, this week we have to go to the vet Monday and Tuesday to have injections for Talulah to prevent any pregnancy - if he had been a flat coat, then I would perhaps go ahead with pups, pedigrees permitting, but he wasn't.  And I have chickens to pay for somewhere down the line - at my insistence. 

 

Last Sunday I was ready to pack my bags and move to remote island to escape the real world.  I just wanted to hideaway and find some balance and calm again. 

 

The one bright moment in all of this?  River, or my little Shitbag, was perfectly behaved.  I think she saw a side of her mum she had never seen and decided it was better to stand still, observe and learn!

 

But shit happens.  And each time it does, a lesson presents itself - I have certainly learned from this one.

 

Confession over - I know some of you will be appalled at this story, and be quite sure your dogs won't do something like that.  Equally I know some of you will cringe with me, perhaps recalling a similar sort of situation where you wish some alien would come along and abduct you.

The Hills are Calling

This entry has little to do with dogs, so leave now if you are not interested!

 

We had a trip to the east coast recently which gave us all a change of scenery.  The main reason for going was to attend the spreading of the ashes of an old friend who died recently. She was a girl I spent many, many hours with in the mountains.  I don't know how many hills we climbed together, or how many trips we took, but she was one of those people who was just totally and utterly herself.  No pretence, no posturing, just herself.  On most outings we took together, I had my dog Leroy with me, and it didn't seem right to go without a dog on this occasion.  I chose to take Tussock as she is the steadiest of the three, and probably the one most like Leroy but in female form.  Knowing I was going to be seeing people I haven't seen for quite a number of years, I didn't want to be having to keep such a keen eye out for a reprobate! 

It turned out that nobody else knew I was going other than the friend I travelled with and it was lovely to see the surprise on their faces as recognition came, and for me, it was like closing the circle around 20 years of my life.  We picked up where we left off, and despite so much water under so many bridges, it was like we had seen one another last week.

We chose a place we knew Fiona would love - a corrie up in the mountains - a flat area by a stream which would be host to wild flowers in summer and with a view of the hills.  We each took a turn to scatter some ashes, and then one of our party read a poem which, to all extents and purposes, could have been written by Fiona herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dust if you must.
But wouldn’t it be better,
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed?
Ponder the difference between want and need.

Dust if you must.
But there is not much time
With rivers to swim and mountains to climb!
Music to hear, and books to read,
Friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must.
But the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes,
the wind in your hair,
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come round again.

Dust if you must.
But bear in mind,
Old age will come and it’s not kind.
And when you go, and go you must,
You, yourself, will make more dust.

- – - written by Mrs. Rose Milligan

The photographs below were all taken between 1988 and 1990

At the Smiddy at Dundonell

At the end of a two day walk up the Lairig Ghru and back down the Lairig an Laoigh

Blaeberry picking

More blaeberries - blue tongues and blue fingers!

Fiona and myself somewhere on Skye

Mr Snowman

An often seen pose

A favourite pastime - bumsliding - not always with a dog in hot pursuit!

Fiona wasn't THAT fond of Leroy, but even less when he was after her biscuits!

Fiona.  May you roam the hills for eternity.

 

 

A Breath of Fresh Air

It seems a long time since I wrote anything here - a few busy weeks at work have rather swallowed my energy and done away with any creative notions!  The dogs have not been neglected as such, but their walks have tended to be a part of the working day rather than a special part of our day.  I put that to rights today, however, by electing to walk the four miles back to base from the remote house at work.  We had been doing the turnover for the next visitors - it was a gorgeous day, and so Tracey took the pick-up back home leaving me to walk.

Heading out to Degnish on a gorgeous morning.

 

The dogs' playground for the morning!

Heading for home and Tussock coming back to see why I have stopped.

And I am glad I did - the dogs were raring to go, and seemed to understand that this was a special walk.  We heard the woodpeckers in the woods, the first skylarks of the season, saw the first Ardmaddy lambs, and as we have just had the first rain in some eight or nine weeks, we could listen to the grass growing!

It also gave me chance to observe each of the dogs, and as always, this was both entertaining and interesting.

River was most interested in the sheep - she runs along with a collie-style crouch, low to the ground.  She is fascinated by them, and in the past has got a bit too close for my comfort, which is not a good thing when you live and work amongst farmers and landowners!   However, her recall is much better now, though not bombproof, but as long as I keep my eye on her, we are okay.  It is interesting that she shows so much herding instinct proving just what an all-purpose dog the hovawarts is.

The track lies ahead, the sheep are up on the left, the water to the right!  Notice River is wearing a collar - it makes for easy holding on to her if we get in amongst too many sheep.

It's lambing season - always a wonderful part of the year.

With River sheep-watching, this allowed Talulah time to relax away from River's less than gentle attentions.  She is totally disinterested in sheep so I don't worry about her - she trotted off ahead happily sniffing, rolling, paddling in the streams, and just generally enjoying herself.

Talulah digging in the mud!

Tussock stayed with me!  At seven, I am starting to see her slowing just a little bit - not that she is incapable of a turn of speed if she wants/needs to, because she can still turn on the thrusters and produce a bit of afterburn!  But she is happy to walk just a few steps ahead of me checking for dangers and anything that might need investigating.  She is also happy to stay close to the pocket with the treats!

We did stop to sit by a couple of streams to let River and Talulah play in the water, dig in the mud, run through the culverts or under the bridges - a favourite game.  Sitting down also allowed me to listen to the birds, watch the lambs up on the hillside, and just enjoy the sunshine - all of which I haven't taken the time to do this last few weeks.

 

Talulah emerging from the culvert.

 

River's turn to go throught the culvert.

 

All too soon we were back at base and the car.  But the walk did the trick for all of us - my mind has been diverted from the topic of work, the girls are happily tired, and they have a bit more of their mum back!  The reality is, if I didn't have the dogs, I wouldn't take these walks....... they are a reason and an excuse to do so.

Talulah sleeping off the walk.

 

Tussock

Dogfight at Midnight

In the small hours of this morning I awoke to a conversation of an unpleasant nature going on on my bed.  It seems Talulah had come up to bed after her statutory bout of peace and solitude downstairs and she must have trodden on Tussock and all hell let loose for a few seconds.  One loud yell of "Oi!!!!" from me and they all settled down again, although I was aware of Talulah standing very still in the aftermath, before slowly backing off.

I put the light on at this stage to make sure everyone was okay and to see why this should have caused such an unusual outburst.  River was on the floor out of the way, Tussock had her head on the pillow next to me, and by now Talulah was settling down at the bottom of the bed looking somewhat chastised.

The position that Tussock held at that moment is the top spot  (after mine) and normally Talulah wouldn't venture into that space if Tussock is already occupying it.  Perhaps this time she thought there was enough room for her as well as only Tussock's head was actually on the pillow.  But this was just one of a few unusual incidents this last week.....

I have been pondering on why Tussock should be so reactive at the moment and I confess I am a little concerned.  A few days back, she had a go at an elderly terrier, two days later she was chasing off a very large German Shepherd - both were dogs.  Today she bitched at another young bitch whom she would normally just ignore.  It suddenly seems as though nobody is allowed in her space, and anyone that does so is going to get their head bitten off. 

A few weeks ago I agreed to look after a friend's bitch who was in season - they have an elderly and ailing dog, and they didn't want his stress levels going up.  My gut instinct said no and in hindsight - oh, how I wish I had listened to that inner voice!!!  My two older girls are not that long since having a season, but having this other one around appeared to swing them back into a hormonal state.  This is all past now, but it seems the aftermath is still with us.

I didn't see the first incident start - I was getting stuff out of the car - but I suspect that little Slioch sniffed her bum.  I did hear the first warning, but he perhaps did not heed it or perhaps couldn't move quickly enough away and by the time I had backed out of the car, she was on top of him shouting and bawling at him.  I ended up hauling her off using handfuls of loose skin on her back.  Slioch went back in his car, shaken, but unharmed.

The GSD incident was one I could observe - she didn't want him near her, and yet the last time they met everything was civil.  That said, last time we took them all onto neutral territory.  Every time Fhinn came near her - boy, did she chase him off.  I wanted to observe her behaviour, but I did put her inside the house for a break.



I see you.....



....and you are too close......



.......so move away please.......



Properly away!!!



Keep going.....



....until.....

 

.....I say so!!!!



I see you coming up behind me.....



and what part of "go away" don't you understand?!

 And then today - she had a go at the little labrador bitch, and I suddenly realised I will have to be quicker on the mark at getting her inside the car or on the lead than I ever normally am - this is just so unlike her.

Another thing that is adding to Tussock's mood is that she has sore and itchy ears (getting better now).  I regularly check all their ears, and hers have always been clean, but somehow she has picked up some mites and I haven't noticed.  When I discovered her ears were hot and itchy and had a look, she really did not want me to clean them out etc - to the point of a small grumble, pushing my hand away and sticking her head under the bed.  Tussock grumble at me?????  Never before!  I guess she just wants to be left alone by everyone. 

I guess I am going to be keeping an eye on her, and make her life as calm as possible and not put her into situations where she will be upset.  Suddenly, I am seeing what it is to live with a reactive dog, having written about it not long ago.

We all have bad days, but somehow we accept it in humans but condemn dogs for such moods and behaviour.  After all, pre-menstrual women have been excused for murder because of their hormones!

So here's hoping all these hormones will settle down again soon.  I certainly won't look after another bitch in season!  Been there, done that, wearing the t-shirt.

Almost forgot though - she isn't too miserable to play with her new ball!!

 

The Crufts Experience

Once again, Crufts has come and gone leaving its legacy of tired dogs and humans, happy owners, disappointed owners, empty wallets, businesses desperately trying to supply all the orders and the eternal question of why do we do it?  Because we love it!

My one day visit to Crufts was a five day affair.  Leaving home on Friday afternoon to spend a night at my parents' so that I was in easy reach of the friend I was travelling down with.  Saturday was spent on the motorway, Sunday in Crufts, Monday on the motorway and back to my parents and finally Tuesday morning to get back home.

My own dogs were being looked after at home - I keep saying I am going to start showing them, but that's another tale.  The friend I travelled with was Min Inches who was the first importer of the hovawart to Britain.  She fell in love with the breed whilst living in The Netherlands in 1979 and has had them ever since.  Tussock was one of her pups and is still remembered fondly in the household!  Due to bouts of ill health, and then injury, Min is currently unable to run with her dogs, so my job was to be the legs in the show ring.  Last year we got a first with young Silkie; in fact we came home with several placings, so I was hopeful for this year!

We were meeting up with another friend, Anne Stewart, who was coming from Ireland - Anne is also Silkie's breeder.  Anne got Best of Breed at Crufts a few years ago with her home bred boy, Fasskoleys Sallins Solo, and Min has had BoB several times over the years, the last one being with Houwaerts Jiska, sadly now passed away.

That first night we slept in the vans - the good old British weather had reverted back to winter just in time for Crufts, and it was something of a cold night.  That and the bright lights around the service station car park, and the birds that sing all night because of the lights, the endless traffic on the motorway close by all contribute to a rubbish sleep, and with the inevitable early start as your body dictates it is time to get up NOW! you arrive in the NEC already tired!

On a personal level, it was a very successful trip - I wanted to meet up with some Facebook friends - in particular, the admin team from our raw feeding group on Facebook.  We have shared many words, but never met.  That was rectified by an all-too-brief meeting at the Natural Instinct stand who very kindly supplied some bubbly and nibbles for all us raw feeders.  Also at their stand were Haatchi and Owen who you may very well have seen as the winners of the Friends for Life competition.  They were also on my list of people to meet, and so thank you to Natural Instinct for their part in bringing us all together.

 

Crufts is a fantastic shopping opportunity with everything you want and need and everything you don't want or need for your dog - leads, collars, coats, books, food, treats, toys, pictures, training aids - you name it, you will get it at Crufts.  I didn't get much time to shop, but did come home with three new toys, my new Mary Ray treat bag, a couple of clickers and a book on dog anatomy.  Oh, and my usual stock of Fish4Dogs dried salmon skin treats. 

As you wander round, your eyes goggle at everything - from the colourful toys, to the diamante collars and leads and from the grooming brushes to the paw washers.  There are so many dogs wandering round with their owners, too - from large dogs that look like walking rag rugs, to the tiniest of toy breeds.  Some of the smaller ones are pushed around in pushchairs, some are held in arms, and some just walk on their own - I constantly worry that I might stand on one, such is the melee of people, dogs, electric buggies, pushchairs, children, dogs etc.

On the doggy side of things, it didn't quite go according to plan, and it was certainly a learning experience.

It is always a long walk into Crufts from the car parks, and this year we had the added complication of Min using an electric buggy to enable her to do distances.  She has been working with each of the dogs to get them to walk alongside this buggy.  I took young Silkie with me and the pull along trolley which had all the crates, food, water and other paraphernalia, and Min took the other two.  In hindsight, we wondered if I should have taken Larney instead.  Poor Silkie was so stressed by the time we got in to the benches, and got ourselves set up, that we were a little concerned about her. 

Hovawarts are very loyal to their owners, and in many cases won't work well for anyone else, and I was well aware that I wouldn't get the best out of Chief as he really is a mummy's boy, and this certainly proved to be the case.  He spent his whole time in the ring looking over to where Min was, to the extent that she moved out of sight - but he could still hear her voice. 

Compare this year with me to.......

...........last year with Min.

However, I did expect to do a better job with the two girls, Larney and Silkie.  But they were as distracted and unhappy as Chief had been.  I had to work very hard to keep their concentration, and Silkie was a shadow of the girl I had run round the ring last year!  Larney was the last one to show, and whilst she certainly gave a great run round for me, she was also looking for Min.

So what had changed?  We talked at length about this on the way home, and concluded that there was no one answer, but more a collection of them.  Dog shows are no longer an opportunity for them to work with Min, getting one to one time with her - they have been handed over to whoever has been available and willing to handle them in the ring, and so some of the fun has gone for them.  Add to that the fact they have seen their mum go from walking to hobbling somewhat, and then resorting to the buggy - we wondered if Silkie was stressed because she had been taught to walk beside the buggy, and I was not allowing her to do so on the way into the NEC.  And we missed a very important clue first thing in the morning - Silkie didn't clean up her food as she normally does - indicating stress before we even set off on the walk in.

I felt very disappointed not to bring any ribbons home, but Min had not expected any, and besides, the competition was tough!  Some beautiful dogs, and a very worthy winner of Best of Breed.  This handsome dog spent as much time on his back getting tummy rubs as he did standing!

Darcius - known as Darcy.

It has made me think about the whole concept of showing dogs.  Min's dogs are all old hands at it - they know more of what they are doing than I do!  But I wonder how many of the dogs in the show were genuinely happy?  Some dogs certainly seem to enjoy the attention and the occasion, but I do wonder if my own dogs will be suited to such an occasion.  I think perhaps it might be unfair to ask Tussock to do it now, but, like Chief, she would probably be fine providing she was with me. 

We finally left the NEC at about 6.15 and made our weary way back to the vans - we only travelled for an hour or so before stopping and taking a motel room for the night for the three of us, and resumed our journey on Monday.  The journey home seemed to take forever - and we went from blue skies to snow several times over.

When we finally got home, Chief, Larney and Silkie were so pleased to be back!  And even better was the greeting I got from my own girls when I eventually got home.

 

So, that's it until next year.  And we will do it all again.

The Difference a Sausage Makes.

Today was a major breakthrough - and all because of a sausage......

After my recent wake up call and my decision to climb out of my ditch of complacency, I have been doing a bit more walking with my dogs as opposed to just walking the dogs.  For too long I have disappeared into my own little world on walks - a bad habit started in childhood.

One of the "issues" that I have had with Talulah is her reluctance to give anything up - be it a ball, a bone, a toy.  The one thing that is virtually impossible to get her to release is a tennis ball - she gets it so far down her long mouth, you can't even get a hold of it.

Playing fetch is a game between three of us.  I throw, Tussock gets it and then gives it to Talulah - then it is a battle to get the ball back for the next throw.  I have tried forcefully taking it off her, shouting at her, bribing her with another ball or toy, bribing with treats, but to no avail - she does not want to give up the ball.  As a result, games of fetch become pretty tiresome and the ball goes back in my pocket.



Tussock goes to get the ball........

 

.......Talulah runs to meet her......

 

......and takes the ball from Tussock.

 

Until today.

I was given some out of date sausages made by my local butcher and I decide to dry them in the dehydrator which up until now has only been used for drying herbs for the horses.  On our walk today, I took a pocketful of the usual treats, and a little bag of dried sausage pieces.

When offered the piece of sausage in return for the ball, I could feel the dilemma going on in Talulah's brain.  What to do, what to do.  At first she was trying to take the treat whilst retaining the ball but she couldn't do that, so then she put the ball down, but tucked it down to her chest before taking the treat.  I gently took the ball whilst she ate and then threw the ball again so that she recognised that she got more game if she cooperated this way.  By the end of the walk, she was much quicker to release the ball and not tucking it away as before.  Result!!!

The ball is given up without force!

But, a result in more ways than one - Tussock was happier as there was more play.  Talulah was happier as there was more play, and, because Talulah was hanging about with me, River didn't get the usual opportunities to beat up Talulah.  The additional bonus was that whilst the two were chasing the ball, I was doing little bits with River - and rewarding her with dried sausage.  And suddenly I had more of her attention, too.

All for a bit of dried sausage.

I guess it was just a case of finding the right treat for the job!