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?”
“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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