We couldn't believe our luck. Big
Foot, Harriet and I had finally rounded up the dogs and begged them to
stop running. All day we'd been forging through the woods, behind
the dogs, who'd gotten the scent of a deer, then a rabbit, the
occasional squirrel.
Out of breath, streaked with sweat,
even Big Foot was panting. The dogs were laying down, napping in a
state of weariness, finally they'd worn themselves out.
I wanted to get back to the cottage,
the hole in the hill, Colonel's Dale. I was riding Harriet, and from
my vantage point, I called out to Victor, the chief Mastiff: “Vic,
are you satisfied, have you had your fun?”
Victor |
“Oh Sam, it was glorious, did you
see? We have had a wonderful day!” They didn't catch anything, or
track anything down, all they'd done was chase animals they'd never
find.
“I saw, Victor. Now which way is the
Dale?”
Victor looked around, back and forth,
sniffed the air in an oh so serious manner and promptly fell asleep.
Never one to miss a nap, I curled up on
Harriet's forehead, between her ears.
The lot of us had gathered our second
wind as evening came, with Victor walking out in front, the rest of
his pack looking to stretch their strides again, yet loyal to the pack,
limited by their instinct to follow their leader. We came up to the
Dale, and then the cottage, Victor pacing us. He'd found my cottage after all, a pleasantness began to settle over me, a cup of tea beckoned from within.
Big Foot
went off into the woods, Harriet made her way into the Barn, I heard
the familiar voice of Uncle Freddie, as if he'd had a cocktail or
two.
Stumbling through the stoop, he
shouted, a bit too loud: “Good to see ya, Sammy!!” Victor and
the pack made their way in to the cottage, dogs akimbo, sprawling on
my sofas, leather chairs, everywhere were floppy ears, and stretched
limbs. All of them made themselves quite at home, proud of
their day's achievements, comfortable.
Wiggling to the kitchen, I put on
the tea kettle, and pulled a tin of blueberry scones. I was thinking
of a couple of tweets I could send out about this day's adventures.
So nice to be home after wandering the woods.
An ear splitting sound rocked my bliss.
Uncle Freddie was blasting the hunting horn, a gift from the Roving
Black Footed Ferrets of the Prairie. Of a sudden motion, every
single dog started barking and howling, and carrying on. Leading the
noise was Victor, that beast!!
What a noise, Uncle Freddie blasting
the horn, the dogs, all on their feet, noses lifted ceilingward as
they barked, howled, and raised the roof.
“Unleash the Hounds!!!!!!!!!”
Uncle Freddie cried at the top of his lungs, a throwback to a mid-evil
world as if he were the chief huntsman. Freddie flung open the
door, raising his glass all a flourish, and yelled again: “UNLEASH THE
HOUNDS!!!!!! and out they went, the youngest pup, Marvin, who after spinning his paws on the entry way, thought better of it all, and decided home is where the blueberry scones are. Off the rest leaped, into the woods, into the dark of night, on a
mission they knew not where. It'd be hours before they realised they
didn't even know what they were chasing.
Marvin Aint No Fool |
“Size 24, Harriet and I spent all day
chasing those dogs.”
To which Uncle Freddie tipsily replied, “I
needed a place to sit”
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