Puppy Days

"Dogs are like music; never try to explain their worth to those who don't appreciate them"

Much like us Pushka has good days and bad days now she's old. The body sometimes unable to match the enthusiasm of the mind.
Our job is simply to try and make sure there's as many good days as possible, and when we're home with little to do we're happy to let her set the pace. Today was another warm but dull and flat day, so after a lazy start we all got in the car and drove up onto the Scar. As ever, much of the joy in this is the singing from the back, a low throaty howl mixed with giggles and yips. If there's background noise in heaven then surely it is this, the sound of a happy dog.

We wandered well worn ways, happy to let Pushka sniff and pounce, roll and lollop - we even went over to talk to the young bullocks, happy in their new-found freedom,  blissfully unaware of their fate. They seemed as curious of us as we were of they.

By the High Fell gate we sat a while in the warm air and watched the clouds cast shadows on the whale back shapes of the Howgills, whilst a youthful again husky bounced and pounced through the heather, tongue hanging out and a look of fun-filled joy on her face.

It's taken me half a life and more to learn to appreciate the lazy quiet moments, but when my light eventually starts to fade I hope I have the sense to celebrate it like this wise old dog.