Eleven days of happiness. There. Friends and family, coming and going. Perfect weather, apart from the day that I did have to stay indoors and tidy up. Every day out walking in our wonderful green gold Taliesin bright landscape.
We see the kite most mornings and afternoons. One comes very low over the roof and we speculate that there are chicks to be fed.
The Hay Festival has given me treat after treat. Sandi Toksvig talking about the joys of being 50 something, Alan Bennett telling the story of the mantlepiece, Clive James asking where are Western intellectual women defending our sisters in countries where oppression is still the norm, Jon Snow singing "Do wah diddy diddy", Danny Abse reading Epithalamion.
Morning tea and a book to read. And Spot ... a dog to complete my world.
He is full of energy and affection. When he arrived, I assumed that we would never be able to walk off-lead. Blind dog might go dashing off to who knows where. But in the house, he is very good with commands and has adapted to the Here and There as if he's been doing it all his life. A few weeks ago out on a walk, I took the plunge and bravely let him off the lead. He loves to run and dashes across the field as if he knows exactly where he's going. You can hear the Chariots of Fire theme tune in the background.
When I call him back, he charges back towards me. Heathcliff, Cathy, Heathcliff, Cathy. Crunch. A learning experience for both of us as we pick ourselves up off the ground.
So now I know that I have to remind him to come to a stop. He still bounces off me regularly and I can be heard yelling "Head" at him if we walk where there are obstacles. I started off shouting "Mind your head" but sometimes he's going at such a pace that there's not enough time to veer off if I get the whole phrase out. Heaven knows what people think. That I'm shouting for a lavatory or worse ... Perhaps I should try hollering "Mind" instead.
But there are upsides to being a guide person for a blind dog.
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