Where does the time go?

Holly at 11 months on Traprain Law in West Lothian

For some time now, I have been 'nagged' to start writing my blog again. It's the old old excuse, no time...manana...etc etc. I was truely shocked when I checked in this morning and saw just how long it had been since I last wrote anything. Holly is unbelievably now a year old and it seems just like yesterday that I lost my heart to the little bundle that under no circumstances was ever coming home to the Mell household. She might have grown a bit and between them, she and Pepper might be turning our hair greyer by the day but have we any regrets? no way.... if it is even possible, I would say we love them more as each day passes and there is never, never a dull moment!!!!

So what has prompted me to start bashing the keyboard again? (other than the nagging)..... Well, we were sitting in a pub near Callender last night, (doing our usual run for the hills on Bonfire night), and we got chatting to a really nice family from Dunblane. We got around to talking about dogs and the weather...as you do... and in the course of the conversation, the winter of 2010 reared its head along with all its sad and poignant memories. Even after two years the memories of that awful year and the loss of our lovely pets still bubble up at times, but thankfully now, these memories soften with the happier memories we can treasure forever. I can now return to places where we went with Judo, Jess, Jig and Ghillie and say, 'Do you remember when.....?' with a smile as we watch Flyn, Pepper and Holly carrying on the traditions and enjoying the life that we are honoured to share with them for a time span that will always be too short.

Even as I start writing again, I realise what a momentous year this has been and how much has happened. There is no way I can even contemplate putting all this down in one narrative, so I guess I'll start with now and work backwards....so stick around for the trials and tribulations of gundog training with Holly and any sort of training with a bonkers Pepper. I have lost count of how many times I have said to Frank this year, 'how did we ever cope with 5 collies?' I guess, we were younger, fitter, tougher, and hadn't added a munsty to the mix or owned a collie of the likes of Pepper!!!...ho...hum.

Snow on Ben Lomond 5th November 2012

So, yesterday kind of developed in an odd way. We spent the morning in the park with Holly on a long line, the intention being to get an instant sit everytime a crow, magpie or seagull took off. I think the wild-life bush telegraph must have been out because in an hour, I don't think anything landed or took off  anywhere we went. Having spent our time doing recalls and sits to the whistle and heelwork gundog/HPR style, we went home, collected the collies, and headed for the hills. It had been a toss-up whether to go north or south and the north won the day. It was a stunningly beautiful day and as we rounded a bend at the Queens View on the way to Drymen, the view of Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps with their dusting of snow in the noonday sun was truely breathtaking. We were heading for Aberfoyle along a tiny lane over the tops rather than the main road when we came across a couple with their car embedded deep in a ditch where they had tried to pull over to let someone else through from the other direction. Well my rope long line nearly came in handy; we tried pulling him out in reverse and forwards to no avail, so we told them we would carry on to the cottages that we knew were further on or to the farm and look for help with a tractor or 4 x 4. to drag them out. We found someone with a jeep and Frank went back with him to help while I took the dogs off for a trot as we were now too late to give them their intended walk before the light faded. All's well that ends well; the jeep dragged them out and when I got back to the car, Frank was waiting for me. We now started the mad race with the sun to try and get some photos of the gorgeous Autumn colours in that beautiful golden light that we get late in the afternoon before the sun sets.

Sunsetting over Braeval in the Trossachs

Reflections at the David Marshall centre in Aberfoyle.

 

Sunset reflection on snow on Ben Ledi

 

'Reflections'

 

 

 

So we ended up eating cold sausage rolls and muffins in Glen Ogle while staring at the stars on a crystal clear...and freezing...night. The dogs happily had their dinners in the darkened picnic area and we followed up with a pint and a coffee in front of a roaring log fire at the Falls of Dochart before driving on to Crianlarich and down the western side of Loch Lomond. We arrived home at about 10pm, a firework free night with 3 happy dogs and some lovely photos for the album.

Spring is on its way.....

Mum and Dad on a family outing.

To quote a well known song '....the weather outside is frightful...' Well, it is wet, cold and pretty miserable but unlike much of the UK. at least we don't have snow... yet. For me, the first signs that Spring is on the way are when the snowdrops start peeking through the soil in the gardens, hedgerows and woodlands, and when you suddenly realise that it is still light at 3.30 and, - on a good day- at 5 o'clock. While washing up this morning, I was watching the usual array of visitors on the bird feeders. There seem to be more than ever... siskins, redpolls, chaffinches, goldfinches, blue tits, coal tits etc to name but a few. Yesterday morning, I arrived at the window just in time to see my favourite long tail tits; they never stay long and it is always a treat to watch their acrobatics as they flit from feeder to feeder before disappearing at a rate of knots to their next anticipated feeding stations. We have always had resident blue tits in our nest box in the spring; but last year, I took down the old nest box to clean it out and decided to replace it with a new one before Spring took hold. Big mistake, the blue tits voted with their feet...(or wings to be precise) and turned their backs on their posh new residence. I had just started to think that maybe I should put the old box back up this year when I noticed the blue tits shooting in and out of the new box, so looks like I have been forgiven and they are 'tarting up' their home ready for Spring this year.

Residence open for inspection!

Whenever I start thinking it is time to put together a new blog, I am always worried that I won't have anything to say or that people won't be interested anyway, so it is always good to get feedback and to know that people enjoy reading what I write. Today was no exception, and when I started,I really didn't think I had much to say but it is amazing how you suddenly realise how many interesting things are going on around you if you just take the time to look.
I actually took the time yesterday afternoon, to sit and watch the pelvicachromis taeniatus and their fry in the aquarium. Cichlids are renowned for being wonderful parents. This is their third attempt at raising a family. Their first eggs never hatched, their second batch gave rise to 9 fry of which only one survived...at least until 2 days ago when dad chased it off when it came too close to the new family. I am sure it is ok and has just gone to ground somewhere amongst the plants and bogwood. There are more than 30 in this latest brood...too many and too fast to count properly. the parents are more confident this time and are escorting them around the tank more openly that previously- much to the discomfort of the other more curious residents who are seen off in no uncertain terms. These fish are not mouth brooders who will keep young fry in their mouths until the egg sacs have been absorbed, but I watched the female 'PT' gather up a couple of fry, who strayed from the 'pack', in her mouth, and return them by spitting them out into the main group.
I remember being told that, if my PT's bred, they would pin everything else in the tank in one corner and would be very aggressive, I can only assume that I have been very lucky in my choice of tank mates as life is generally very peaceful in the aquarium even with the fry around.

Pencil fish, Bolivian Ram and Oddessa Barb (L-R) -Tank Mates.

Bolivian Ram looking for female companion!

 -This poor boy lost his mate, one of the very few losses since setting up this aquarium. I have been looking out for a female for him but males are much commoner in the aquatic shops. Then again, maybe one pair of breeding cichlids in a tank is enough!
I also have another tank in which I have half a dozen Endlers Guppies. These are smaller and hardier than the larger more commonly seen Guppies that are found in pet shop tanks. When I fed them last night, I noticed that there are also fry in their tank. The guppies are live bearers not egg layers and unlike cichlids have no interest whatsoever in their offspring. These fry are quite well developed considering I didn't know they were there and haven't been feeding them any special fry food until today! I had put a third unused tank up for sale on ebay but have had to withdraw it from sale as I think I am going to need to use it. The only problem is, I don't know where I am going to put it; the tank was an unexpected present and I really never intended having a third set up on the go..it is very hard work.

My lovely girls

Where does the time go. Holly was 14 weeks old last Wednesday and Pepper will be 12 months old next Wednesday. They get on so well and I am just starting to get my wonderful relationship back with Pepper who has been totally besotted with Holly. I am now firmly of the belief that you are better off having two pups together rather than 8 months apart. I love both my girls but it has been and I am sure will continue to be very difficult training two youngsters who are so close in age but are at such different levels of training. It is easy to forget that Pepper is still a pup, and I had a sharp reminder this week when she ate Frank's watch. I found the face on the floor with the straps missing. Yesterday she vomitted up one strap...the other??? I guess time will tell.Getting my head round training the two of them is a major challenge for me and I am loving every minute of it. The support and help I have been getting from the trainers at Burnbank Dog Training Club while struggling through the last difficult couple of months with Pepper has been fantastic and I came home from training last night really feeling that we have turned a corner. No doubt things will change again by next week...I remember an old and very wise trainer, who is sadly nolonger with us, telling me once that dogs are great levellers. Never was a truer word spoken, it doesn't matter how old you are or how much experience you have, they will always find something new to challenge you with...but then that's part of the joy of dog owning and training.

Such a laid back wee Holly.

'Reprise' -JUDO

Judo

This is a piece that I wrote while doing a creative writing course with the Open University eighteen months ago. Life has moved on since then with Flyn being the only survivor out of the five dogs mentioned in this tale. This is a true tale and a true reflection of the characters and personalities of our family that are now just a beautiful memory. Why put this on here now? Because at last I am ready to move on, I can look back and remember with joy as well as with sadness,-not just because of the passage of time, but also because of those who have helped us look towards a future that at one time we didn't think we would ever be able to countenance. The enduring and ever faithful and loving Flyn; the endearing and challenging Pepper and the exhuberant unplanned for and unexpected baby of the family -Holly. This is an ending and a begining...and..a reprise.
                                                *** 

I sat and stared at the sign in front of me. BEACH PARKING.That was new, as was the parking area. The JCBs had been at work, levelling the rabbit warrens and the pot holes; creating order and respectability where there had been wilderness. It had been a while. Last time, we were seven, now, we were five. There were so many memories here and, I wasn't sure that I was ready to face any of them.

   I got out of the car; perhaps it was time to follow the old familiar route; to put to rest the pain and the grief, and the tears that continued to well up as I remembered wee Jess bouncing along like a demented rabbit, and Judo with his barely restrained excitement as he scented the sea, running on and looking back...running on and looking back...

                                                 *****

We waded through the streams and the glutinous mud of the salt marsh, listening to the plaintive cries of the oyster catchers as they vented their annoyance on five mad dogs intent on their race to the distant beach. Judo led the charge as usual; always the water baby; a reincarnated otter who at twelve years old, had still not come to terms with his rebirth as a Border Collie. Ghillie, the baby of the bunch, the cuckoo in the nest, - gundog not collie, was hot on his heels, ears flying in the wind as he eagerly followed his hero and his idol. Even Jig, the couch potato, and Flyn - whose idols walked on two legs- not four, were caught up in the excitement of the chase while Jess, clearly feeling her fourteen years, valiantly bounced along bringing up the rear.

We rached the far edge of the salt marsh and struggled through the soft sand which had been scoured from the surface of the wet beach by the fierce wind. We were forced backwards, eyes watering as the finer sand blasted our faces, stinging nostrils and skin, a painful reminder of the power of the elements on what was otherwise a warm summers day. Five sets of paw prints were clearly visible in the wet sand, heading off towards the distant sea.

By the time we caught up with them, Judo was swimming strongly well beyond the gently breaking waves, only his dark head and distinctive white blaze visible as he moved effortlessly through the water. Ghillie, deciding that he hadn't yet achieved this canine  standard of Olympic excellence, kept pace beside him in the shallows, while Jig stood barking mindlessly at both of them. Flyn meanwhile had had enough of canine independence and trotted close beside an exasperated Frank who sported an increasingly wet trouser leg. Totally oblivious to all these masculine goings-on, Jess had found the perfect piece of driftwood. Sculpted smooth by the ebb and flow of the sea, it lay at my feet where she had thrown it. She stood motionless, staring at it intently, willing it to my hand, willing me to throw it so that we could begin the whole process over again. Unfortunately, she had waited too long; Judo arrived, seawater streaming from his black fur which he proceeded to shake all over us before scooping up the driftwood and taking off along the beach with the others in hot pursuit.

                                                 *****

As I followed Frank along the path that led to the salt marsh, other memories crowded to the forefront of my mind. I remembered other winter days like this when the waves built and crashed against the shore in a mass of white surf, depositing clumps of brown flecked foam that dissipated in the wind. Judo was always there, fearless, carried in on a rising wave, riding the surf as the waves lost their momentum and broke against the shore.

I shivered; there was no warmth today in the sickly winter sun. No Jess, no Judo, just three dogs running along the tide line examining the detritus left by the last high tide. They had no interest in the crashing surf and the driftwood lay where the sea had chosen to deposit it. I thought how different their personalities were and, in that instant realised that that was why each one was so special and unique in their own way. We would never forget Jess or Judo because they had each given us something so individual that their memories would live with us forever. This was their eternal gift to us.

A movement caught my eyes, a black arrow outlined against the brilliant white of the foaming surf. For a moment, I saw Judo swimming in the troughs between the waves, and then, a cormorant rose flying strongly into the wind as it headed north. 
                                                 ***

Normality returns?

Holly - 11 weeks.

I'm not sure that normal and the Mell household should ever be mentioned in the same breath- if nothing else it is tempting fate!!
Our storm damaged roof has been repaired, and now that we are watertight again, the sun has come out...I think someone up there is having a laugh! I can't believe that the dogs have been out two days running without an hourlong session with the hairdryer when we get back.

Curtain Twitchers

If I had any doubts about Holly growing, this picture of the 'gruesome twosome' taken this morning, as Frank disappeared up the road with Flyn, has certainly put my mind to rest The pair of them are totally manic. I watch them play with my heart in my mouth as I wonder which one will be injured first. Every so often, I really do have to step in as Pepper gets completely O.T.T. It is so easy to forget that she too is still a pup. Even when I intervene, Holly is straight back in and short of caging the pair of them, I just have to grit my teeth and cross my fingers. I shot outside the other day when I heard the most tremendous racket; there was Pepper running figures of eight at top speed hotly pursued by Holly who was nipping at her heels, her tail and anything else she could sink her teeth into while yapping in delighted gay abandon. Specks of blood on the kitchen floor had me panicing and after a thorough inspection of both it turned out to be Pepper who had taken the skin off one of her pads while performing 'hand-brake turns'. Can someone please remind me why I have another Munsterlander?
   Seriously though, she is just gorgeous; her tail never stops wagging and she is learning at a frightening speed. One more week and she will be out facing the big wide world. I have always taken my dogs out early to socialise, but Holly has been the exception due to my almost obsessive fear that she might pick something up. I know that I have been overly protective and it will be good to start getting her along to clubs for socialising.

I am really not fed enough.

All I get is empty bowls

We are soooooo tired.

Last night saw the first flood  in this tropical fish era in the Mell household. Fortunately, it was only my small reserve tank. I had managed to displace the spray bar on the filter and it was happily spraying water everywhere. I noticed the reduced water level before I noticed the flood..not at my best at 10pm on a Saturday night. So there we were fending off our little helper who was trying to play tuggy with the towels we were using to mop up. Why was she not in her cage? ..this was soon remedied! I was just glad we noticed it, before we went to bed, when there was only about a gallon spread around the dining room floor.
I only have one survivor out of my nine fry. I think that the others were predated by the other fish although I did find one in the filter when I cleaned it out. The survivor is growing fast, and, every day I spend a few anxious moments until it emerges from the cave chaperoned by mum and dad.

Apart from the dogs and the fish, it has been an interesting week watching our bird feeders. I am pleased to see an increase in the local chaffinch population. They had dwindled alarmingly over the past few years. I can also remember when green finches were one of the commonest birds in the garden; last year we had a pair visiting, the first time in about five years; sadly, we haven't seen any this year at all.

Male chaffinch.

The drop in temperature has seen an influx of siskins and redpolls. Last year was the first time we had seen the redpolls in the garden and I am thrilled that they are back again. There are often just too many to count in this mixed flock which feed on the ground beneath the feeders as well as on them.

Female siskin (L) & Redpoll (R).

Goldfinches are regular visitors and it isn't unusual to have up to a dozen fighting for the best spots on the feeders. Blue tits, great tits and coal tits are always around along with robins, dunnocks, and sparrows and ocassionally,  a wren puts in an appearance. The blue tits nest in the garden as do the blackbirds who seem to rear several broods each year. We are not twitchers; I cannot comprehend what pleasure people get from dashing around the country to put yet another tick in their book but I do get a thrill from seeing the more unusual birds arrive in the garden. One of these is the long-tailed tit; they rank as one of my favourite birds with their pretty soft colouring, and their gregarious nature; they are never still, arrive in a flock stay long enough for a quick feed and are gone again. I was lucky enough to be in the kitchen to see their lightning visit earlier on this week. We are not without the bigger birds as well, the starlings arrive 'en masse' scaring off everything else around. Magpies and collared doved also appear regularly and we have even had a buzzard at one time descend to eat his supper after being mobbed by crows. It is amazing that although many of the birds are opportunistic in their feeding habits, many seem to have set times for visiting the feeders throughout the day.

Goldfinch(L) & male siskin (R)

One thing is certain my sacks of bird seed are depleting rapidly this year.

Goldfinch

 My Crufts tickets arrived the other day. The original plan was to fly down for one day to support my friends who are competing in the inter-regional obedience team for Scotland. However the arrival of Holly led to a rethink as I simply have to go and see the Munsterlander judging. So a two night hotel stay is booked and I will be driving down as usual on the Wednesday afternoon. Every year, I swear it will be my last visit but every year I get drawn south for my annual fix of all things doggy. Who knows, maybe next year Holly will be with me. I didn't have her to show, I just fell in love with her, but who knows how things might turn out. Whatever happens, I think she is beautiful and I still get that melting feeling inside every time I look at her.

Well that's all for now. Frank is cooking dinner, all the dogs are asleep so I might just sneak a couple of hours with my computer games...killing baddies as Frank calls it.

There's no place like home.

A Happy New Year!!!!!

Just a 'bit' of storm damage.

What a way to start 2012. The storms on 3rd January were not expected to be anything like the ones in December, but we still had a roof in December!!  A roofing expert came this afternoon to remove the dislodged tiles that hadn't hit the ground and will hopefully be back to start repairs tomorrow. In the meantime we are just hoping that it doesn't rain too much!! That was a scarey storm; I could hear the tiles crashing down and looked out of the window to see one miss the car by inches. Heart in mouth, I dashed out to move the car to a safer location and nearly got blown off my feet.. Thought we were going to lose power as well as the lights flickered on and off all morning. It was definitely not fun trying to toilet train Holly in those conditions.

10 WEEKS OLD TODAY

I can't believe that Holly has been with us for two weeks by tomorrow. In some ways, it seems like she has been with us forever; in others, it doesn't seem like two minutes ago that I went over to Mo's to help her socialise the pups with no thought whatsoever of having another puppy. This was a real heart over head event and we don't regret it at all. What a different Christmas she made for us, we dreaded it so much and it became magical.

A strange thing happened the other day. I always leave my keys in the back door. Ghillie used to go and rattle them when he wanted to go outside. Of all the dogs we have had over the years, he was the only one that ever did that. A couple of days ago, the keys rattled in the door; I got up and went into the kitchen- old habits die hard I guess,- and there was Holly standing at the door. A munster thing?...or?.... Whatever, Ghillie, carry on watching over your wee beautiful successor.

We've had a ball today...

....but we're getting tired

Peace perfect peace.

What a lovely surprise we had today. I took up an old hobby again after losing Ghillie last year. I set up a large tropical fish tank hoping to keep some dwarf cichlids, - these are species I haven't kept before. Cichlids are very good parents and fascinating to watch. My pair of Pelvicachromis Taeniatus produced eggs in November but the eggs didn't survive. I noticed movement at the front of the tank this afternoon and thought it was the brine shrimp that I fed them yesterday. On closer inspection, there were nine tiny fry. Not quite a munster-sized litter but enough to send me into a complete panic as I forgot everything I had read about breeding cichlids and spent 2 hours on the internet reading everything I could get hold of. I had thought about moving them to another tank but the experts say they thrive better if left with their parents. Mum and dad are certainly guarding them from all comers at the moment, so I can only keep my fingers crossed that they will survive the traumas of life in a community tank.

Male Pel.Taeniatus with fry below him on rock.

Male and female on guard duty.

Female Pel. Taeniatus with fry hiding behind males tail.

I think the fry are 7-10 days old. Guess they will be easier to home than puppies, always on the assumption, they survive the rigors of maturing in a community tank. 

A NEW BEGINING

Our 2012 family

It's 8-15am on 1st January 2012. It's an hour since Holly- my early morning alarm call- dragged me out of my weird techni-coloured dreams inspired by the very mature cheeses I ate last night.
In this first conscious hour of 2012, Flyn decided it was far too early to be pestered by an exhuberant pup and a short sharp telling off, sent Holly screaming into the kitchen for comfort and protection...and, a tug of war with my trousers while I struggled to prepare canine breakfasts.
Pepper, (our older pup by 8 months), and a reliable puppy minder and trainer! picked this time to vomit something that she must have eaten during yesterdays walk. I fought my way past a retching Pepper and retrieved and caged Holly who was more than a little interested in the wood and bile mess. While I cleaned up and assured myself that Pepper was ok., Holly screamed like a banshee, - being crated again was definitely not part of her early morning routine.
By now, Flyn was dancing around and desperate to get upstairs to Frank, the removal of tea bags from mugs signified time for his escape and special play session with Frank.
With Flyn removed, Holly released and some semblance of order restored, the next mad session
started as Pepper and Holly began their favourite game of tag. A pair of little whirlwinds hurtled through lounge, dining room, kitchen and yard with Holly making good her escape under the settee while Pepper was less fortunate as her 'safe' refuge on the settee has already been conquered by Holly,- much to mine and Pepper's dismay. Meanwhile, I set about replacing the carpet tiles in the dining room as Holly regularly relocates  and redesigns them whenever she gets bored with the piles of toys strewn from one end of the house to the other. While they were otherwise engaged, it seemed a good time to empty the rubbish bin. It has become necessary to keep the overhanging edges of the bin liner inside the bin as Holly had quickly discovered the delights of shredding just about anything. Unfortunately this meant that the liner nolonger achieved its purpose as efficiently as before, so, I fought my way through the unmentionable detritus while fighting off a helpful pup who seemed to think I had arranged a great new game just for her. With rubbish restored, bin liner tied and deposited in the wheelie bin, I finally sank into my chair to drink my now luke warm tea...
A crash from the kitchen sent me jerking to my feet, my brief respite ended. The stand that Ghillie had used for food and water now held two water bowls, while a smaller water bowl is kept at ground level for Holly.  She had decided that she preferred a larger bowl and had managed to dislodge one of them depositing a full bowl of water on the kitchen floor. I grabbed a towel to mop up the flood which, of course was an instant invite for a tug of war. Oh dear- shades of Holly's auntie Poppy who I chased around the garden at Mo's when she ran off with my jacket.
Order vaguely restored, I curled up in my chair with the logic problem that had defeated me in my inebriated state last night. Holly and Pepper continued to charge around with the mad exhuberance that is at its best in puppies of all ages. By 9am, they finally crashed.

going......

going.....

GONE.

As I watch them sleep, I marvel at the strange turn of events that led to us welcoming these two incredible animals into our home...but that is a story for another day. We are priviledged to have such fabulous young dogs in our house. After all the sadness and turmoil of the last eighteen months, this truely is a new begining.