Showing posts with label George. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George. Show all posts

George...The Joy of Scottish Terriers 1

Kim over at http://lifeatgoldenpines.blogspot.com/ has a new puppy a wheaten scottie! According to literature, the Scottish Terrier personality can be described thus:-
"Friendly and playful as a puppy, the Scottish Terrier matures into a bold, jaunty, yet steady and dignified adult, with greater independence than most terriers. He is staunchly self-reliant and fearless -- also dour and crusty at times"
Well take out the dignified, the dour and the crusty, and the above description is dead ringer for our George,a dog who often is relegated to the more shadowy areas of this blog by his more robust of animal housemates.

George is that slightly awkward kid from school who always wore his uniform a little too severe and who was always walking home by himself with an over large leather brief case swinging from his arm. He wasn't lonely or unhappy, but was generally self reliant, geeky and on the quiet a bit of a comic when you got to know him......he was also bullied terribly but bright enough to avoid most of the brickbats that was hurled at him.
Our George is a constant. He is never moody,he is always insanely loyal and remarkably unneedy . He knows his place in the pecking order ( even the new Gosling in the shed is of a higher status than he is) and seems content to live  his lot with a cheerfulness which is at times almost heartbreaking in its sweetness.
Kim, if your new puppy is anything like George, then you are going to experience a decade of comical canine company,

ps Village cake contributions so far for the Allotment open now number 31 bakers!

Losing George


Yesterday I lost George.
Now If anyone here knows Scottish terriers, they will immediately know that this is an almost impossible thing to do.
They are loyal and obedient dogs that never stray far from their owners' heels, so when out on a walk when you look round there they will be looking right back at you.
Yesterday we walked the length of Gypsy lane, and quite suddenly George had literally disappeared. I called and called, thinking that he had gotten all excited over a fresh pile of droppings, but there was silence after my call... no !"arroooo!" of recognition, no bark of answer.
I retraced my steps....no George. I hurried back to the main road dragging the Welsh by their leads.....still no George.....then I ran back along the lane again....nothing......
I was beginning to get frantic. In four years George had never been out of my sight before let alone gone missing,,,,and with Maddie dying recently, I let the whole thing get right under my radar and I experienced that awful cold prickly sensation you get when dread takes over from objectivity
I called and called up and down the tracks and snickets, all to no avail, and was helped in my search by two women out for a walk. I then decided to race back to the cottage to get the car... and as we turned into the lane just by my field I heard the usual Scottie greeting "arrroooooo"
We turned and in an adjacent sheep field was George sat calmly by the stone style....somehow he had taken himself through three fields full of sheep, negotiated two wire pig fences and a style and had trotted all the way home .
I could have burst into tears! and realized quickly that I am rapidly turning into an old woman where my dogs are concerned.
Anyhow today, Chris has left early for Kent again. His Uncle is having a birthday party over the weekend and Chris has gone down to join in. I am working Saturday night, so its going to be a bit of a boring weekend for me.
I am still worried about the fox too, last night I relaxed "fox watch" just a little and spent some of the evening in the cottage....at 8ish the hens kicked up a huge fuss and I got out there only to find the three main flocks all tightly knit in their own groups calling loudly at some unseen menace beyond the fence. My arrival put paid to any further problems , but he's still out there lurking in the sidelines.
My sister will lock the hens up tomorrow night when I am at work, but I am worried that there wont be a human deterrent around the field for a while after I leave for work at 7pm......I will ask the neighbours if they would like an amble around the field after I go perhaps...
I am getting a little obsessional
ps My rants to the water board seem to have worked...two men arrived this morning and repaired the wall!!!

Poor George

Do dogs grieve?
It is a question I have been asking myself when observing George since Maddie died. Generally the little chap is quieter than normal, less bouncy, less confident and certainly less "verbal",however , I think it would be easy to push the "human" trait of grief forward as an explanation, after all the emotive scene of George alone on his walks, without his constant companion sniffing at the things he is sniffing at remains one that pulls at your heart strings.

Does George actually miss Maddie?......hummm... I really think that the question is irrelevant, as I believe George's behaviour is really a result of the imbalance within the pack dynamic. The Welsh terriers are and always have been a close pair of their own. They walk together, they play together and they joust together. George has never been an active part of that...ever.
Because of his size and slowness compared to the others he and Maddie by default would walk together on every walk; because of their ability to accept the poultry both Scotties would be allowed free range in the field, whereas the Welsh would always be tethered.
With Maddie dying, his position in the pack does have a certain sense of isolation about it.

Chris especially has also changed the balance of the pack by showing George a little more attention than usual. Now I know just how easy this is to do and it may help Chris grieve for Maddie but I think it causes more issues between the dog pack as a whole. George has always been lowest in the pecking order and both William (who is wonderfully good natured) and Meg will just not allow that fact to be changed.

I think we do need to get George a companion of his own, but getting the right one will be, well, a bit of a challenge......hey ho..

George

See, I can "do" kids! Nia sent me this photo this morning...thank god little George is more photogenic than I am.

The weather has taken a turn for the worse, so after a particularly wet dog walk I have baked bread,tied up my allotment onions for drying, made a cottage pie, cleaned the cottage and fanny-arsed around tidying drawers and cupboards.
I have cleaned out the shed too in a hopeful readiness for potential turkey chicks which are now due in three weeks time. My friend Eirlys has two young turkeys and hopefully we could do a swap of stags or hens if either of us are short.
I am off out to see Les quatre cents coups (400 Blows) tonight with Hazel. I remember studying this 1959 French New Wave film when I started my Film Studies degree in Sheffield, and found it a little hard going even then.......well I am a little older and wiser now, so perhaps I will understand it a little more...who knows?

last choice George

The Berlingo has suffered another chip to the windscreen so I arranged for it to be repaired this morning. Because of space I parked the car on the field and as usual as the 2 workmen worked on the screen, they slowly became surrounded by a host of dogs,hens, ducks and cat!
One of the workers was tickled pink when George was chased out of the main hen enclosure with a very irate and dishevelled Mildred Pierce pecking at his bottom.
I always feel a little sorry for George.
Despite a brief power struggle with William a year or so ago, George has firmly and consistently been placed on the lowest hierarchical rung of all of the animal populations. Now this is easily accepted with the dogs (as he is the smallest and the youngest) , but it is also actually correct with Albert and dare I say most of the chicken flock.
Oh the shame!...poor George is even lower than the most bedraggled and sad looking chicken!
Yesterday I noticed Albert greeting the dogs after their walk. Each dog will receive a head rub and cheerful purr, but Albert cannot quite stop himself giving George a playful face box or paw slap! It is as though he does so, just because he can!....it's a bit like a good natured bully, giving a fellow schoolboy a slightly painful but benign slap on the bonce---

Happy Underdog


George is the happiest underdog I have ever met.
In the pecking order (and we must include Joan the cat,Janet's Jess and Carol's (dog babysitter) Celt and Samson in this), George always remains firmly last.When William and Meg demand attention and cuddles, he has to relinquish his place on the couch and on your knee so that they can fulfill their own needs.
But even though he can be at bullied,the little chap remains steadfastly upbeat with everyone he meets and with everything he does.He has spent most of the morning watching the hens, with a love lorn type intensity and when loose on his walk, will always be the first to race up to a walker or dog to say hello.
Like William, George is turning into a delightful dog.
Late evening is "George time", William is safely asleep in his crate in the kitchen, Meg and Maddie are snoring on the couch and George can climb (almost guiltily) onto my knee for a tummy rub