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Mist is finally no longer in season, the happy farmer can heave a huge sigh of relief, no pups this time. Roy, the sheepdog can get back to a peaceful life once more, having spent several days with his nose glued through the slats in the gate, tongue hanging out, as he whimpered and howled trying to get Mist’s attention as I took her on a daily walk through the back field.
Mist has delighted in her new found freedom. She jumped in with the pigs for a breakfast date, helping them to eat their rations, before clearing the gates, and taking herself off across the fields to indulge in a bit of sheep chasing, goading the happy farmer as she went. Skilfully disappearing out of sight, as he took chase on his quad bike. Only to reappear when she knew he was safely all the way up the top of the hill in his vain search, and the coast was clear for her to come skulking back into the garden. Mist had regained her composure, and was posing happily on the garden slabs, a wry grin on her face, by the time a harassed but happy farmer returned.
We had friends over from the mainland visiting with their beloved pet dog Fudge while Mist was in season. Poor Fudge got a rude awakening in our garden; enter at your peril when the bitch is on heat. Roy pestered him mercilessly, following him round the garden, nose glued firmly to his behind, before mounting a full scale assault. Fudge had to be rescued indoors, only to be growled at by Iona, my parents’ dog, who was over to stay. She is queen bee when she is here, taking over the happy farmer’s comfy kitchen chair, much to his annoyance. There she sits throughout the day, only peeling herself away from the chair if there is a walk on offer, or some yummy food scraps. Not at all impressed at Fudge’s arrival, a normally docile dog, Iona’s hackles were up, teeth were bared and Fudge was told in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome. Eventually we gave up, Fudge was put back in the car, Iona drifted lazily back to sleep, happy farmer looking on with gnarled face, and Roy was able to return once more to the slats in the gate and happily pant after his beloved.
Until next time….
ah confinement.... makes sense, but wouldn't puppies be fun? on some level? at all?
ReplyDeleteDogs are so funny when in season. We used to have a gay dog. The bitch was desperate for some attention and Ben would shy away as though to say, "you're just not my type."
ReplyDeleteCrystal xx
Love a dog blog! Poor old Brown Dog has had the chop, but last year when one of the bitches across the lane came into season, he spent most of the day glued to our gate, finally managing to open it somehow and find his way into our neighbour's kitchen. No wee pups, sadly - she's a tiny black lab and he's a cocker - I think they would have just been so cute.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely Laurie, but she is only a pup herself...this was her first season, so I think puppies will come later in her life....
ReplyDeleteLoved the dog blog. I'm getting broody for a puppy - how sad am I! (Loved Crystal's gay dog too!)
ReplyDeleteI always know when a bitch is on heat in the village our dogs spend their nights howling to the moon as does every other dog for miles its like being surrounded by wolves!!
ReplyDeleteLovely photos as usual. I enjoyed your doggy blog. I am sure my last border collie was gay, I just couldn't get her to accept a male and I wanted to breed from her.
ReplyDeleteOhh, this is better than Eastenders - what happens next?
ReplyDeleteMootia x
Lovely photos and great blog. I love the thought of Iona asserting her superiority - nothing like an Alpha female, is there?
ReplyDeleteUh-oh, seasons! You mean owning a dog gets WORSE!!!
ReplyDeletewhat a fabulous picture and love your dog blog. SM have you read Milla's puppy blog? be warned!
ReplyDeleteHah - oh to be a dog and say what you really think of people . . . . mind you not into all the bottom sniffing that seems to go with it yyyeeeuukkk . . . LOL
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of my sisters old dog. He was on his last legs for years it seemed, but everytime the bitch came into heat the years would vanish and my sister and her husband spent all their time trying to keep the dogs apart. He eventually pegged it aged 20, but not before he managed to get the bitch in pup!
ReplyDeleteLovely doggy blog Rosie and I had to laugh at Crystal's comment above - we had a duck who wasn't sure where her 'inclinations' lay; we called her the Bishop due to the white collar around her neck and were most pleased when she stopped mating both the drake and the gels! xx
ReplyDeletelucy-piglet is getting fruity at the moment, poor gordon, all he can do is dream.
ReplyDelete