A long lead and a shaggy dog story

I've been away on holiday, staying with my humans' daughter - you know, the one who has that CAT which I can never (well, hardly ever) find.

I've had a great time with plenty of walks in new places. I walked to the top of a windy hill and sat on a bench. And I walked in the park and posed in front of a posh house.

I had lots of runs - on my long lead - in all the places she took me. Sometimes they were muddy walks, but always fun.

She always keeps me on my long lead, and I gather there are reasons for this. 

She splained to me that a long time ago, that when she was 12, she had a dog called Weggy and he was a Westie (those white things with longer legs who are also terriers).

She'd asked and begged for a dog for her 12th birthday for a whole year and my humans allowed her to have one and took her pick it up for her birthday. The humans and her brother all knew she was getting a dog, but it was a surprise for her and she thought she was going to have her ears pierced for her birthday present (that was next on her list after a dog). Why do you have your ears pierced?

So when they drove up to a house and the owner asked them to come in, through the garage, she thought it was a bit strange. Then she heard some barking and out on the patio there was a pen with a mother Westie and puppies. One of them was Weggy, who came to live at the house where I live now with my humans.

When Weggy was quite young, they all went on holiday to Devon (I've been there!) and had a walk with some friends on a place called Dartmoor. They let Weggy off his lead as it was a big empty place and he got very exckited and ran off into the distance. Everyone called and called and chased after him and he did stop and come back but their daughter (who was still only 12) was very upset because she thought he wouldn't come back.

So even though she's now lots older than 12, she's always a bit scared I might run away if I'm let off the lead so it's the long lead for me when I stay with her. As if I'd really run away - she makes too much of a fuss of me. And of course, there's always that CAT to keep me interested....

[Ed. Bosworth has no road sense and only goes off lead in safe open spaces away from roads. Beaches are the most favoured]

Dog meets dog

Phew, it was all go when I went to stay with my human's daughter for a few days at her house. I love her to bits so it's no probem going there as I'm spoilt something rotten....although she does get a bit strict with me at times, especially when that CAT is about! But on the whole, I have a great time, plenty of fuss and new walks. I also get to visit new people, and one of them had a dog.

Brodie is a Miniature Dachshund and he's a similar size to me. Well, we met up at his house and I soon realised that we're both wimps! [Ed. as described by said daughter]

Now, I didn't know what that word meant and it doesn't sound very flattering, but as I see it, it has to mean we have good manners (like me) and that we're reserved and don't rush into leaping all over other dogs or people when we first meet them (like me) and that we generally behave ourselves. Well, I do have excellent taste and I can always detect a pocket of treats when I smell one on people we meet.

I can be a bit reserved when I meet new dogs when I'm out walking, and if they come on too strong then I'll give them a warning bark, get them to back off and then we'll proceed at my speed. Or maybe not at all if I don't like the look or smell of them.

It was all very civilised with Brodie and we kept to our own space and blankets while our humans chatted. I think he looks a bit nervous in this photo and he probably didn't like me being in his house, which is why I stuck to the rug.

Oh Brodie, I hope we can meet again and have a bit more fun when we know each other better. You're kind of like my kind of dog.

 

What's in a name?

 

2019 was the last time I went to France with my humans in my campervan - you know why, it was this virus thing that's messed life up quite a lot. And then there is that brackset thing they did so I can't use my Pet Passport anymore. I feel a growl coming on, so don't get me started.

Anyway, names. In 2019 I had to go to a vet in France before we came home. He was very nice and it was OK apart from him popping a pill down my throat when I wasn't expecting it. I just gulped in surprise and it was gone.

One of my humans picked up a card in the waiting room (I was busy keeping an eye on a cat in its carrier across the room) and would you believe it, they have  ideas for pet's names each year in France! How strange. I don't think you have to choose one of the names if you don't want to, and I'm really quite relieved.

I mean, had I been born in 2019 in France when it was "P" year, I might have been called Pongo or Pancake. Horror of horrors!!! I was born in 2018, so my name might have begun with "O".....hmmmm....Oswald, Ollie, Orlando, Oregano???

 

The first photo of me taken by the human who feeds me. I climbed up her leg and said "ooow-wooow" (hello) then the humans took me to live with them at their house, and decided on my name on the way.

All of this got me thinking about my name and the names of some of the dogs I know. I was named Bosworth after the village where I was born - Husband's Bosworth. People sometimes say "Oh yes, the Battle of Bosworth" when they hear my name. (What's a battle?)

The first friend I met when I was a puppy is called Woody, he's a lot older than me and a bit bigger too (Ed. a Border terrier). Dolly the Dachsund lives across the road and we have playful romps together. Murphy, also across the road, always says hello, and Rusty, a few doors away, wags and is pleased to see me. Well, he can hardly see and he's lost an eye but he uses his nose and knows it's me.

Then there's Daisy and Dougal who are quite new dogs on the block, but they're very friendly and their names bring the score for "D" up to 3. There are 3 Jacks who live nearby and I know them all - old brown Jack who's rather elderly, small brown and white Jack (Ed. a Jack Russell) and black and white Jack.

I've overheard my humans talking about the name they chose for me. They rejected all the early suggestions lined up - Bracken (I rather like that one), Magnus (hahaha - joke - it means "big" and I'm quite small), Jasper (because my colour is termed "red"), and - heaven forbid, Banjo (wouldn't have suited my personality at all).

If there are any dogs out there reading this (or their humans) please let me know what your name is. I'd love to hear what you're called, and why.