Taking pictures at a zoo in Newquay gave me the opportunity to catch a chameleon under a light and to see it change colour.
Chameleon in the pink spotlight
Much more difficult to catch was this little fellow who was always on the move in Michigan.
Chipmunk
It just wouldn't stay sideways so that we could see its stripes.
However my favourite retriever was only too pleased to sit in the shade when he had finished playing with his ball.
Cody
He liked to sleep on the mat next to our bed when we stayed at his home. The only problem was he snored so loudly that we could not sleep. He had to drag him on the mat to get him outside the room.
Nevertheless for a long time he could been seen as the wallpaper on my computer engrossed in a favourite pastime.
My A-Z posts this year
are based on my garden – flowers, animals, the birds and the bees, butterflies
- with a bit of poetry thrown in. For some letters I am expecting to cheat
somewhat – wishing they were here.
R – Rose, Rhododendron, Robin, Rabbit, Retriever
For a rose we can only begin with Burns:
My love is like a
red, red rose
That’s newly sprung
in June
An older verse applies to roses too as not all are as red as
those.
Thou blushing rise,
within whose virgin leaves
The wanton wind to
sport himself presumes.
Over the years we have been
nurturing a rhododendron bush that didn’t thrive in the soil in the front
garden border. It has gone from border to tub, to ericaceous tub to back garden
border where it now flowers happily.
Rhododendron
Three girls,
engrossed, were wrenching full clusters
Of cerise and pink
from the rhododendron,
Mountaining them on
spread newspaper.
They brassily picked,
slowed by no chagrin,
I’m pleased to be able to show a
photo of one of my favourite birds which I’m sure you will have all seen on
Christmas cards.
Robin
No noise is here. Or
none that hinders thought.
The redbreast warbles
still, but is content
With slender notes,
and more than half suppressed;
Pleased with his
solitude, and flitting light
From spray to spray,
where’er he rests he shakes
From many a twig the
pendant drops of ice,
That tinkle in the
withered leaves below.
Cute but less welcomed is this fellow about to attack the
plants.
Rabbit
Now if today had been Friday then perhaps I’d get up early and
sing along:
The song was written for Noel Gay's
show 'The Little Dog Laughed' which opened on 11 October 1939, at a time when
most of the major London
theatres were closed.
The farmer with a gun would have
needed a Retriever to fetch the rabbit. I know one that could do the job.
Cody
Incidentally Cody was 15 years old on Easter Sunday; he’s no
April fool.
By the aroma that was wafting everywhere he had obviously been indulging in his favourite pastime of rolling on the grass. Only this time there must have been deer about..
An immediate bath was called for. At 14 years old Cody knows the routine and sits patiently to be soaped, rinsed and dried - just what is all the fuss about?
Cody being dried
That's better - smelling sweet and no soap in my eyes!
Because of my interest in dogs I started to write about the dogs in the village where I live. The outcome – I suppose I now know as many dogs as people and I’ve heard people call me, “The man who talks to dogs.”
The first dog I remember was when I was very young, I’m not sure that I was old enough to go to school. The only photograph (now lost) that I saw of my father was him kneeling on the front lawn with Punch. Punch was an Airedale with a simple attitude to cats – he hated them. Mind you he took it to extremes when he killed the landlord’s cat for being on his lawn.
The first dog that I was allowed to take out for a walk was a white Labrador/Lurcher named Laddie, the gentlest dog you could imagine. He kept us in rabbit meat during WWII. Poor Laddie came to an untimely death when he was chased out off an alleyway behind a village pub straight under the wheels of a lorry.
Flick, the Whippet, came from South Wales. She covered herself in glory in a very short time by catching a hare almost as big as herself. I once wrote a short story based on this event called ‘The Chase.’
Major the Springer Spaniel had a demeanour to match his name. I’ll swear he sat to attention while his photograph was taken. Major was owned by my future wife’s family in Stamford, Lincolnshire.
Major
My wife and I have never had a dog. One of my sons and my daughter have made up for this. Milly and Cara were the last two Irish Water Spaniels owned by my son. Milly was the most intelligent dog I’ve ever met and not a bad footballer either. She craved chicken bones and was the scourge of the neighbourhood raiding refuse bins for the remains. (You may read about Milly and Cara at http://bobscotney.blogspot.com/2010/04/irish-water-spaniels.html).
When my daughter moved house, the pack increased to four with the addition of Gem, a black Lab mutt, and Jack, the chocolate Labrador know affectionately as the ‘Brown Bomber.’ Jack is my Lucky Dog (http://bobscotney.blogspot.com/2010/12/lucky-dog.html)
Jack
Only Gem of the ‘originals’ is still alive and she has been joined by the elder statesman, a Retriever named Cody – the most obedient dog I know. He loves fishing in the lake.
Cody
Scout and Lily are the younger Retrievers in the house. I have been told that it’s my job this summer to train Lily to behave. Wish me luck when I talk to the dogs.
[Posts and photos on North Yorkshire Village Dogs may be found in my blog archives in December 2009, January, March, June, July, September, October and December 2010]
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