Subscribe Feed (RSS)Beardie Sam Discovers Red Mud (11th in Series)
June 17th, 2005 by admin | Filed under Uncategorized.A freshly groomed Sam and I were staying with my cousin Barbara and her husband David in their lovely converted oast house and, to date, my boy had been amazingly well behaved. In fact, comment had been made about how – now that he was nine and by some reckonings middle-aged – he had become somewhat more sedate.
Barbara and David are not ‘doggy people’ and to the best of my knowledge have never owned a dog, but they are fond of Sam and have been very tolerant of his various high jinks on our occasional visits. He in turn loves travelling to Warwickshire to sniff the air and test the smells there, ever on the look out for fresh adventure.
When on our second morning Barbara suggested a shopping expedition in Ludlow both David and Sam turned pale, neither being keen on retail therapy. So we women set off, leaving our men to take their leisure – David with his newspaper, Sam (who had taken me for a long walk before breakfast) peacefully asleep at his feet.
Driving through picturesque scenery to Shropshire I reflected on the pleasure of being out and about with Barbara knowing that Sam and David were keeping each other company. I then threw myself into the enjoyment of shopping and of chatting over a leisurely coffee.
Barbara and I so enjoyed ourselves that it had gone two by the time we returned home, ravenous for some lunch. As she fished for her key I glanced through the glass panel to one side of the large wooden front door when a movement within caught my attention. Then I did more than glance – not quite believing the sight I was seeing, for it was like something from a horror film.
The sole bits that were familiar were the black nose and the bright eyes. As to the rest – well, the formerly free-flowing slate and white fur was quite unrecognisable beneath a thick layer of red mud which hung in strands and globs from all over Sam’s body. Almost impossible, even given past history, to equate this apparition with the fluffy fellow I had left behind me. How had he and David achieved such a feat? And, perhaps a more pressing point, given the fact that Sam was indoors, what was the fate of the honey-coloured plain carpet covering the floors throughout the house?
As Barbara opened the door she shared my dismay at Sam’s state but quickly pointed out to me that he was enclosed in the paved area between the kitchen and the dining room, which I had forgotten was uncarpeted – so this was one worry less. As to how Sam had turned from dog to monster: well, it being a sunny day, after reading his paper David had decided on a little stroll along the path to neighbouring fields. Sam had not, of course, objected to accompanying him, so off they had gone – David seeing no need for a lead as he lived in the heart of the country. No need … ?
There had been absolutely no problem until the puddle was reached. Then, as David looked on in shock, Sam did a delighted belly flop and landed right in mid-mud, wallowing for a bit. Once his front had benefited satisfactorily from the experience he did a nifty flip to give his back a turn, rolling and wriggling and kicking his paws aloft for a full five minutes. This was his first unrestricted experience of Warwickshire mud and he was obviously determined to make the most of it. No disputing that he had done a thorough job. As I gazed at him I could not see even a centimetre of fur in its original colour. Sam was well and truly muddied!
And this particular brand of red mud is stubborn. Ordinary hosing proved useless. Being an eternal optimist, I had not thought to bring any doggy shampoo on this quick visit so we resorted to using liquid soap from the kitchen – David aiming the hose while I rubbed and scrubbed … and dreamed of lunch.
By the time Sam was recognisable as Sam it had gone three-thirty and we humans were feeling faint with hunger. He, though, was shivering from the prolonged onslaught of cold water under a cloudy sky and was still in no condition to be permitted indoors. So I ran round the large garden with him until he was warmer, by which time the sun was, mercifully, shining again and bringing its additional warmth. There was now nothing against my tying him to the leg of a patio bench so that he could dry off naturally in the sunshine while David and I joined Barbara inside for the lunch she’d been preparing for us.
As for the remainder of the afternoon: I spent this doing some very necessary grooming and making copious resolutions to brief potential Sam-handlers in future …
Copyright: Pamela Glynn
I think it was probably writing stories about Sam years ago for the Southern Counties Bearded Collie Club’s ‘Beardie Times’ that gave me the confidence to move on to novels. I’m now a published author, often exploring spirituality and/or the elusive nature of Time. I’ve recently completed two e-books, the first of which follows a baby bird along his most unusual path to maturity. This can be read on two levels – simply as an adventure, or also as a journey toward personal development – and can be accessed via the link: dustysjourney.com dustysjourney.com (10% of the proceeds from sales goes to support animal charities worldwide)
The Portrait (a love story across time) can be found at: pglynn.co.uk pglynn.co.uk
Tags: groom, monster
