Amusing ourselves

      Two Jack Russell Terriers out and about in a landscape that is simply filled with interesting and stimulating scents and places to root, rummage dig and hunt; what could possibly be better? Thinking about it there's only one thing and that's getting and muddy, filthy and smelly doing what they do best so that can safely be added to the list.

      Lucie is still being trained, I use the word train loosely here, and she spends half of the walk on the lead and the other half chasing crows and pheasants which always fly away when she gets too close. She hasn't quite worked out that they can fly, or even what flying is, but the bonus of the open field chase is that she runs some of her seemingly boundless supply of energy away.
      Compared to Lucie Barney is built, as the farmer said, 'like a brick privy', he's just a block of muscle even at twelve years old and a very powerful terrier.

      Barney trundles along checking this and checking that, peeing on things and suddenly you realise he's not with you anymore, then you spot a white terrier two hundred yards away with his backside sticking out of a woodpile or very old manure heap. No doubt he's found rats or rabbits and they won't come out to play so back we go to drag him out before he disappears into the heart of the heap of rotting logs and timber.
      At this point we turn for home via an old orchard and when we get back, after being full of hell and pent up energy, we go to sleep, instantly.
      I forgot, they do that really well too.