Readjusting to the English countryside

Flossie and I have been adjusting to normal life again after our holiday.

I had a wonderful week in France with family and friends. Flossie spent time at home with our dog sitter where I’m sure she received more attention than she ever gets from me.

If I’m absolutely honest, I relished not having the responsibility of a dog while I was away. And I’m sure Flossie enjoyed the company of a human being who wasn’t me. She seemed very content when I returned, and also took it in her stride when the dog sitter went home.

I spent the first week back trying to get enthusiastic about working, paying bills and catching up with my laundry. The weather was sweltering, which helped, as I tried to hold on to my holiday mood for as long as possible.

As I walked Flossie around the neighbourhood, my mind wandered to my walks through the vineyards of Burgundy with my friend’s labradoodle (don’t tell Flossie). There, we didn’t see a soul on our walks, the countryside baking hot and breathtakingly beautiful. 

It seemed far removed from the evening strolls we were now having back home. The weather was humid and uncomfortable, the streets full of people with their children and dogs, trying to get out when it was supposedly cooler. It felt rather stifling.

I decided the only way to resurrect my love of the English countryside was to go for one of our favourite walks around Englishcombe. The weather had now cooled significantly so a longer walk was feasible. There were no people. Just us and spectacular rolling fields. 

It was beautiful and familiar. 

I knew Flossie was happy because every now and then she would punctuate her running with a Bambi-like hop and a skip. 

She rounded off the walk with a deft roll in some deer poo before I could stop her. 

It was fresh, it was smelly, and it was all over her harness, and her.

Normal service had resumed.

As published in the Bath Chronicle, 28 September 2023