In Which Wilby Has A Transport Epiphany,
And Encounters The Black Shadow
Life in exile has recently settled into a steady routine of sleeping,
sleeping, begging for biscuits, sleeping, and sleeping. I am now satisfied
that the Eco-Gardener and Eco-Forester can be trusted to get on with their
tasks without minute supervision, and indeed I can do without their
criticisms of my ability at same. The other day, for example, when I was
playing my part in warming the soil on a recently-created garden bed by lying
on it at full length, the Eco-Gardener, instead of appreciating my
contribution, was so rude as to yell at me to get off her just-germinating bean seedlings. As if it were my fault (my fault!), rather than thanks to my
soil-warming and firming efforts, that the beans chose that day to emerge
from the ground.
Be that as it may, there is of course one other part of my routine that is
always adhered to, and that is taking the humans for their daily exercise.
I have not yet been able to get both of them to exercise at the same time, but
I do take one or the other out for a trot every day, for up to an hour. Our regular route is up the hill road. I generally walk the Eco-Gardener up this route, (with frequent stops for horizontal hind leg stretching, of course), as she is not as fit as the Eco-Forester. I can usually get him to keep up a steady jog, even uphill, although he can be difficult about making sufficient leg stretching stops.
I was walking the Eco-Gardener this afternoon when I saw the most amazing
dog-transportation vehicle I have ever seen. I stood in the middle of the road gazing after it long after it disappeared around the corner, and the yapping of its occupant had faded. I longed to be in his place, much as the Honorable Mr Toad of Toad Hall seemingly longed to drive a car when he first encountered one. This fabulous dog-conveyance was a sort of open chariot, which was attached to the side of a motorbike. The chauffeur drives the bike, while the passenger reclines on a well-upholstered seat, enjoying a breezy ride with great views.
Now the Master of Good Hope has a motorbike... He says it is for reasons of economy and ecology, and who am I to doubt him? (Although just between you and me it has crossed my mind that it could also be seen as a vain attempt to prolong his puppyhood.) Whatever the true reasons, at least he has a bike to which a chariot for me could be attached. Now, how to convince him of the desirability - not to say the necessity - of doing so?
The E-G tells me I have just ten days to work this one out, for the Master of Good Hope will be returning to what passes for civilisation in these parts on Tuesday next. I have mixed feelings about this. I have started a number of projects in his absence, including beachcombing, and I am doubtful that he will let me continue with this pursuit, despite its obvious interest and utility.
Aha! Found something interesting!
Also despite its opportunities for encounters with extraordinary creatures, such as the one pictured below, who was more polished than the shoes of his mistress, and as dark as my shadow. A classy exterior, I will allow - but always look to the tail position for the sign of true inner confidence is the motto I pass on to pups.
I prefer the woman to the dog.
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