Now there is a distinct nip in the air, my rescue dog Flossie and I are loving our Autumn walks.
Not that I’m complaining about the gloriously hot summer, but it is a relief to stomp through crunchy leaves and not break out in a sweat. Flossie may hail from Cyprus, but she struggled in the sweltering heat.
Now, there’s no stopping her. She dashes around at full throttle, becoming ridiculously excited by squirrels, whining slightly hysterically at the clever ones which scurry up trees where she has no chance of chasing them.
Last week, nestled in a pile of leaves, she made an important discovery. The wing and torso of a pheasant.
I should probably point out that the pheasant was dead and that Flossie did not kill it. But she found it, and was extremely pleased with it.
So much so, that she pranced jubilantly, with it dangling out of her mouth, refusing to give up her treasure. As a rather squeamish vegetarian, I did not share her delight.
I knew this was going to take some time. The ‘all natural’ treats I’d carefully chosen did not divert her. I called her in a jaunty voice, brandishing a tasty treat. I scattered the treats on the ground.
Zero interest. I even tried running off, making squeaky noises as if I’d seen something uber exciting in the distance. I felt quite silly. I hope nobody saw me. But, nothing.
We had a stand-off. I had run out of party tricks and Flossie started to look bored. 20 minutes passed.
Eventually, she decided it would be sensible to find a suitable spot and bury the poor bird.
I think we were both relieved. We continued our walk, Flossie happily scampering after squirrels, me shuffling through leaves a little more tentatively.
The problem was, she returned to it the next day…
As published in the Bath Chronicle, 29 November 2018
Suzy Pope is a certified copywriter and newspaper columnist specialising in pets, business and lifestyle. If you would like help with a writing project, please get in touch.
