Well, it's Easter Bank Holiday weekend in Britain. And as is usual for a Bank Holiday the weather is dull, damp and dreary - well it is up here in Scotland, and from what I've seen of the weather forecast the rest of Britain isn't going to be drenched in sunshine.
Anyway, I'd like to wish all those on my flist a peaceful and enjoyable holiday. May you enjoy your time in your own particular and special way.
We have an escapologist in our family. Her name is Tansy and she's our almost-fourteen year-old West Highland White Terrier. She visited our neighbours (both sides fortunately loved her) gardens several times from our previous home, finding new places to push/dig her way through until the fence was covered with bricks/concrete pieces. She even tried to dig her way under the new wooden fence one side put up when they knew we were moving.
Now we have been in this cottage since early January and she has never shown any inclination to escape. We thought that we had blocked the garden up, enclosing it into an even smaller space, in order to make it doggie proof.
A couple of days ago all this changed - Tansy was nowhere to be seen in the cottage or the garden, neither of which are large. Racing hearts all round. We have a fairly long driveway, but there is a road at the bottom, not that busy but with plenty of blind-spots. Suddenly I spotted, across a paddock and a stream, a little white figure trundling along around the garden of our only 'neighbour', as though she owned it. Hubby set off across said paddock and stream and brought her back. We found out where she'd pushed her way through - forget cats and spaces the size of the length of their whiskers, this doesn't work with Tansy - and hubby blocked it up with a heavy piece of wood.
This morning I glanced out of the bathroom window and guess what? Yes, there trotting across the little bridge over the stream, glancing back looking a tad guilty was Tansy - the minx had managed to push her way under the plastic fencing that is taut to the ground, something that we would have said was impossible. She will now not be going out into the garden unless one of us goes with her! She has no sense of direction, she didn't even know her own home where she'd lived for thirteen years, she'd happily walk past the gate. Thus she would just keep on walking, nose to the ground, in the direction in which she was heading. And as she is such a friendly 'everyone loves me dog', she would just go off with anyone who invited her to - and even someone who didn't!