October 2011 - Another story

The Little Dog (aka - Pip) wakes me each morning He sits outside the bedroom door and whines gently. This is usually at 0500 and usually, I am already awake. I have been conditioned over years to waking up to " Reveille' in the original French or ' really' as the British Army has it. Whatever - I am accustomed to becoming swiftly awake and conscious, whether it be to the whine of a small dogs, the Pipes and Drums crashing into 'Hey Johnny Cope' , a pick helve being rattled on a metal bedstead, or an empty bucket being dropped on a concrete yard outside my window. I have been conditioned long years of getting ready for Roe stalking, Autumn hunting, or just letting little dogs out to take 'an easement' or as it might be a pee. Whatever it might be I have become accustomed to early rising and consciousness with an even temper. I cannot say the same about Madame, whose temper is entirely toxic until c:10.00 hours. Those of you who follow PG Wodehouse may remember his egregious hero - Ukridge (Ewekridge), who was permanently broke and was always finding new and useless answers to his problem. He tried to solve the 'early morning dog problem' by inventing a chute from the bedroom window down which you could slide the offending dog to the lawn below. This did not solve the problem of having to get up to let the blighter back in. This problem did not often arise as little dogs, dropped down Ukridge's chute tended to break their necks which may be a reason for his invention failing to catch on. My 'EDP' is different anyway. I sleep on the ground floor and putting the dog out only means opening a door, but getting the little bugger back can be more of a problem. The neighbourhood cats like to make free with our tiny garden each night and no self respecting terrier could be expected to come back in until every inch of cat line has been worried out and remarked upon. This may take a little time, whilst I stand about with a gale from the Channel driving round my dangly bits. I must say that the Little Dog is fairly obedient with me. This is because, during the day time, I often take him out with my Scooter and he does not want me weaselling off in the darkness without him. Anyway this is how Madame chooses to explain the fact that he is not as obedient with her as, she says, he is with me. She is often reduced to chasing him round the garden with a yard broom. - Well it seems to work in the end. A good stiff broom is very useful with difficult animals. I remember (many years ago, when I was hunting on Dartmoor, being bidden to attend a Pony Club Camp. It was being run by a terrifying old lady called ' Granny Howard'. She and the Merry Campers were trying to get a pony into a trailer with a marked lack of success. At last I stuck a stable broom up its arse and it shot into the trailer: "Now children “said Granny “that is totally the wrong way to load a pony." but it was loaded. To my mind, the wrong way to do anything is the way that does not work, but it was not my place to tell Granny Howard that. Still on Dartmoor and another terrifying old lady - The Missus managed my stables for me - 'The B B Bloody Boy' as she liked to call me. She was lovely, but had the most appalling flow of appalling language and a stammer. One day we had a big horse to load in a lorry. The B, B B Bugger was not having it. "Go and get Mr Dennis and his t t t,tractor, Boy" said the Missus. Phil Dennis farmed next door to the Kennels. When he came with his tractor, the Missus hanked a wire rope on the draw hitch, ran the rope through the door at the front of the lorry hauled it back and attached the end to a stout collar round the horse's neck. "Take it away, Phil" the rope tautened. The horse lay down on its side and in this way it was loaded on to the lorry minus a bit of hair and skin "There yer b b bugger!" said the Missus " That's you loaded" and it was. I am not sure that Granny Howard would have approved. But I said nothing to the Missus. The horse was undoubtedly loaded and If I had said anything, she might have given me a good s swearing.