Summerhill Glen #OscarWalks

Summerhill Glen #OscarWalks is the first post Oscar and I have done for some time. We’ve been out for walks, of course, but I’ve been away a few times and Oscar had his little operation, which meant we’ve not been out and about around the island as much as we’d have liked. Needless to say, we’re going to be a bit limited for a while, but even close to home, there are some interesting places to go, and one of our favourite places for a daily walk is Summerhill Glen, which is only five minutes from our front door.

 

“Are we going down Summerhill Glen today, Mum? I love Summerhill Glen.”

“We are, Oscar, but I’m afraid we won’t be able to play with any other dogs at the moment. I doubt there will be many about.”

“No, it’s very quiet. I like the quiet, though. Not so many scary cars and lorries on the road. Easier to cross.”

Summerhill Glen has two entrances.  The top entrance is on Victoria Road near Governor’s Bridge, and the main entrance is on Summerhill, just up from Douglas Prom. It was apparently originally named Glen Crutchery. The water from the river was used to provide power to a snuff mill on Strathallan Crescent, but the mill burned to the ground in the late eighteenth century. The road became known as Burnt Mill Hill, and then later, Summerhill from a mansion house at the bottom of Blackberry Lane.

In 1833, the glen was purchased by Douglas Waterworks to provide water for the first Douglas reservoir. The reservoir was still in use in the 1970s, to provide water for washing down the prom, but after a fatal accident, the reservoir was filled in although it is still possible to see where it was. The glen as we know it today was developed in 1932-1933 by young men aged between 18 and 22 on a ‘work for the workless” scheme.  It was then leased by Douglas Corporation. Initially, there was a proposal to call it Waterworks Glen but this was rejected in favour of Summerhill Glen, which I personally think was a good decision.

Summerhill Glen is a beautiful little oasis close to the centre of Douglas, with a series of paths leading between trees and shrubs, alongside a stream with a little waterfall. In the 1980s a fairy grotto was created, and this has been upgraded several times since then, with carved wooden seats and illuminations during the summer season and at Christmas and Halloween.

“I didn’t like the Halloween lights, Mum. That dog.”

“You mean the Moddey Dhoo, Oscar? You got used to him.”

“I know. I don’t mind him now, but when I first saw him, with all that fog around the marsh, and that howling noise, he frightened the life out of me. Now, I just think he reminds me of old Toby.”

“Toby and Joey both loved this glen.”

“And who wouldn’t? There are trees and flowers and bushes and mud and water and ALL THE SMELLS!!!!!”

“There are also a lot of steps and it’s quite steep, Oscar, stop pulling.”

“Sorry. Got a bit excited. What’s that?”

“It’s a waterfall, Oscar.”

One of the advantages of the glen for us, is that we can walk down to the prom and the beach from home. It’s possible, during the summer months, to take the horse drawn tram from the bottom of the glen right down into town, which is a picturesque, if not particularly speedy way to get to the shops. Alternatively, we can just walk along the prom, or take Oscar onto the beach.

 

 

Spring is particularly lovely in the glen, with daffodils and wild flowers forming splashes of colour in the middle of the dense green of the vegetation. The main path is very good, although some of the side paths can get a bit boggy and slippery which can be an issue with an over enthusiastic labrador. Oscar has got so good on the lead now, though, that I don’t have to worry about him.

 

Oscar’s first visit to the cannon at Summerhill Glen. He’s grown a bit since then…

“What are those?”

“Cannon.”

“I’ve seen cannon somewhere else, haven’t I?”

“You have. There were some in the little fort on St Michael’s Isle. I believe these are here because there used to be some kind of fortification here as well, to defend this part of the island.”

“It’s a shame you can’t use them against this virus-thing.”

“Isn’t it just, Oscar? Right, are you ready to walk back up?”

Look at these ones, Mum, they’re quite high. I suppose fairies can fly, though…

“Yes. Can we look at the fairy doors?”

“We can. We should get two with Toby and Joey’s name on one day.”

“And mine?”

“Why not?”

“I like it down here at night, when it’s all lit up. Will that happen this year, Mum?”

“I don’t know, Oscar. It’s a bit different this year, they might not have the summer illuminations. But I think we’ll be back on for Halloween and Christmas.”

“Christmas was my favourite, it was like magic. I’m sure some of those lights looked like fairies.”

“They really did, Oscar. You tried to chase the moving ones. Beautiful. We’ll keep an eye out for the summer though, they might be back on around August time.”

The fairy doors throughout the glen were created by local schools, play groups and other organisations, and they give a real sense of magic to the glen. It’s a favourite activity for  local children to run through the glen spotting new doors and reading out the names on them. Oscar always gives the ones he can reach a good sniff, but he takes them in his stride, unlike my old fella Toby, who always took exception to ANYTHING NEW on one of his regular walks. Over the years, in addition to the fairy doors, he was know to lose it with such disparate items as new rubbish bins, a new bus shelter, a statue of a pig in somebody’s front garden and a Christmas tree on the quay. Toby didn’t like change, whereas I think Oscar has a sense of adventure.

You find fairy doors in the strangest places in Summerhill Glen, those fairies get everywhere
Oscar checking out some of the fairy doors in the glen
Fabulous tree carving at the top of the glen

“Look Mum, it’s the big wooden thing.”

“You mean the tree carving, Oscar. Yes, it’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“I remember coming here when I was a puppy. I loved this tree, there are so many different carvings on it.”

“You were a lot smaller then, Oscar. You couldn’t get up onto this seat back then. Want to have a sit down?”

 

 

Oscar is enjoying having a sit down on the seat which is part of the tree carving.

“Yes. This is such a cool seat. What’s that?”

“It’s an owl.”

“Really? Let me see. I like owls. I got an owl toy for my birthday, didn’t I? I love my owl. Let me see this one close up.”

 

Oscar investigating the owl carving
He really likes this owl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are there any more owls round this side?

“Right, let’s get home, Oscar. I need to get some work done.”

“Will Jon be there?”

“Yes.”

“And Anya?”

“Yes.”

“And Dad and Rachael?”

“Everybody’s working at home for a while, Oscar, they’ll all be there.”

“That’s great. You know, it’s a shame we can’t go far, Mum, but this lockdown isn’t all bad, you know… I think I’ll cuddle my owl when I get home and have a nap.”

“Sounds like a plan, Oscar.”

Oscar and I will be keeping closer to home for a while, but we’re looking forward to the challenge of finding some interesting places for #OscarWalks to investigate nearby. 

Don’t forget that there are eight short historical fiction stories available here, which will give you a flavour of my writing and give you something to do during lockdown.

 

If you enjoyed Summerhill Glen #OscarWalks and want to hear more from Writing with Labradors, or find out about my books, why not follow me on Facebook, Twitter,  Instagram or  Medium?

 

Oscar has grown a bit since this early photo beside the tree carving at the top of the glen
Definitely Larger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St Michael’s Isle to Derbyhaven #OscarWalks

St Michael’s Isle to Derbyhaven #OscarWalks

Good weather gave us the chance for a beautiful walk in the south of the island. Oscar was on the lead for most of the way, but was able to have a couple of off-lead runs which he loves. I have to tell you in advance that he was a VERY GOOD BOY today.

 

 

 

The old chapel on St Michael’s Isle

St Michael’s Isle, also known in the past as Fort Island, is about 400 metres long and is just off the Langness Peninsula, joined by a narrow causeway and it features in An Unwilling Alliance, when Hugh Kelly takes Roseen to visit. It’s a beautiful place, covered in springy grass and vegetation, surrounded on all sides by a rocky coastline. I’ve been there in a high wind and it’s a wild place, but today was sunny and calm, although freezing, and there were few people about.

“I’ve been here before, haven’t I, Mum?”

“A few times, Oscar. The last time we came, Anya was with us. And Joey.”

“Don’t cry, Mum. He’s all right, really he is.”

“I know that, Oscar. I just miss him.”

“So do I. Do you remember that day, when he ran off?”

Joey and Oscar at Derby Fort last year

“I really do. We were so concerned about you, we kept you on the long lead, but we let him off. He gave us one look and then started waddling at high speed right towards the rocks and Anya had to run after him.”

“He was after a swim, he loved swimming. Can I swim today?”

“Not here, it’s too rocky. Later you can go in at the beach.”

“What’s that, Mum?”

“That’s St Michael’s Chapel, Oscar. It was built in the twelfth century on the site of an older Celtic keeill.”

“A what?”

“A keeill. It’s a Manx Gaelic word for a chapel. Very old.”

“It looks it. What’s that other building over there. It’s broken too.”

“Ruined, Oscar.”

“Ruined. Broken. Whatever. What is it?”

“It’s called Derby Fort, it was built in the 17th century by James Stanley, the 7th Earl of Derby who was Lord of Mann during the English Civil War, to protect what was then the very busy port of Derbyhaven.”

“Doesn’t look that busy now.”

“Nowadays we have an airport, Oscar. Times change.”

“I suppose so. Can I look inside?”

“Through the gate, it’s not open. Over here.”

Interior of Derby Fort

“What’s that?”

“A cannon.”

“A what?”

“A big gun.”

“Oh right. Like the ones at the bottom of Summerhill Glen?”

“That’s right.”

 

“I like it here. Lots of grass and rocks and sea and smells and…what are those flying things that I like to chase?”

“Birds.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s a bird sanctuary.”

“It must be. I never catch them. But look, Mum – DOOOOOGS!!! Can I go and play?”

“Off you go then.”

“Whew, that was fun. They’re not youngsters, those two, but they could run. Although that one waddled a bit like old Joey. Where now?”

“Let’s get your lead back on. We’re going along the coast towards Derbyhaven.”

The walk along the Derbyhaven coast was just over three miles and we were able to do a lot of it on the beach although retreated up to the path or the road where it was too wet or too rocky. Oscar loves the beach, but needs watching as bizarrely, he likes to eat seaweed. This was new to me; neither Toby or Joey would have dreamed of eating anything so nasty and smelly. Recently, Oscar has been learning the valuable command “Leave” and we had the chance to practice this a lot today. It went very well.

“You’re being very good, Oscar.”

“Thanks. What’s that?”

“It’s the back of the airport. When we go away, we sometimes go on airplanes.”

“That’s why I hate airplanes. You should stay here. What’s that big building over there. It’s not broken.”

“Ruined. No, that’s King William’s College. It’s the only public school on the island. Which really means it’s a private school, because you have to pay to go there. I’ve never really understood that.”

“I don’t care. Did Jon go there?”

“No.”

“Did Anya?”

“No.”

“Not an interesting place then. What’s that?”

“It used to be a cafe and bar. I’ve never been in, but I think it’s closed down now.”

“Pity. We could have gone for tea. I like this walk.”

“So do I, it’s very pretty. Right, we’re going to turn back and go up to Hango Hill on the way back.”

“Can I go on the beach?”

“Yes, but don’t eat the seaweed.”

“Okay.”

“Oscar, leave!”

“Sorry.”

“Oscar, leave!”

“Sorry.”

“Oscar, leave it!”

“Sorry, Mum.”

“What is it with you and seaweed? Neither of your brothers ate seaweed.”

“I just like the smell. And the taste.”

“Try not to, Oscar, it’s really bad for your tummy.”

“I’ll do my best. I’ll go and paddle instead.”

“Good idea. A bit cold to swim.”

“Ooh. What’s that?”

“Hango Hill.”

“Eh?”

“It’s called Hango Hill.”

“It’s a very small hill.”

“More of a mound, really, but it’s very old.”

“It’s got another one of those broken buildings on top.”

“You mean ruins?”

“That’s them. You really like ruins, don’t you, Mum? Ruins and books. And dogs, of course.”

“Yes, that pretty much sums me up. Come and see, Oscar.”

Hango Hill is a small mound by the side of the coast road between Castletown and Derbyhaven, overlooking the beach. It was possibly an ancient burial site and a Bronze Age flat axe was apparently discovered there. The name derives from the Norse words for Gallows Hill and was used as a place of execution until the seventeenth or possibly early eighteenth century.

The most famous execution to take place on Hango Hill was that of William Christian, also known as Illiam Dhone, (Brown William) for his participation in the 1651 Manx rebellion against the Derby family who were Lords of Mann at the time.

Illiam Dhone, from the National Art Gallery at the Manx Museum

Christian was a Manx politician of his day and is seen variously as a patriot, a rebel or a traitor. He was appointed as Receiver-General by Derby and when the Earl left for England to fight for Charles II he left Christian in charge of the island militia. Derby was taken prisoner at the Battle of Worcester and his wife,  a redoubtable lady called Charlotte de la Tremouille, who held Castle Rushen for the King, tried to save her husband’s life by negotiating the surrender of the island to Parliament.

The ensuing rebellion, led by Christian in 1651, was partly due to national politics and partly due to local discontent at some of Derby’s new agrarian policies. The rebels took several local forts and Christian then began negotiations with the Parliamentarians. The Countess was forced to surrender Castle Rushen and Peel Castle, and failed to prevent the execution of her husband. Christian remained Receiver-General and became Governor of the Isle of Man in 1656.

Derby’s family did not forgive or forget. Fraud charges were brought against Christian, who fled to England and was imprisoned for a year in London. On his release he chose to return to Mann, believing that his rebellion against the Earl would be covered by the Act of Indemnity, but the new Earl immediately ordered his arrest. Christian refused to plead at his trial, was found guilty and executed by shooting on Hango Hill on 2 January 1663.

Oscar enjoying my lecture about Illiam Dhone

“So what was this place before it was ruined, Mum?”

“I’m not sure, Oscar, but I think it’s the remains of a kind of summerhouse used by the Earl of Derby. It was built after Illiam Dhone’s execution. They used it as a banqueting hall as well, and used to organise horse racing along these dunes towards Langness. I read somewhere that these were the very first “Derby” races. I suppose that’s when they stopped using it for executions.”

“Good thing too. Bet it’s spooky at night.”

“Shall we come down here one evening and see?”

“Not funny, Mum, you know what I’m like in the dark. What does that writing say?”

“It’s just a little bit about the history of the place and Illiam Dhone. Each year, on the anniversary of his death, they have a gathering here and make a speech in the Manx language.”

“I’m surprised you don’t come, it’s the sort of thing you’d do.”

“I might one year. It’s always so cold in January, though.”

“It’s blowing up a bit now.”

“It is. The light’s starting to fade as well, I forget how early it gets dark. Right, back to the car then, we’ll be warmer if we’re walking.”

“Mum. This was a long walk. How far?”

“Probably almost six miles with all the detours and the running around on the beach and the island, Oscar.”

“That’s a long way. I’m going to need a long sleep when I get back. And dinner. I’m starving.”

“Have a biscuit, then. You’ve been such a good boy today, Oscar, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mum. Won’t be going out next week much, I suppose?”

“No, you’ve got your operation on Friday. But it won’t take long to recover and the weather will be getting better soon. There’s the car. Hop in, baby boy.”

Oscar about to settle for his post-walk nap

Look out for more #OscarWalks posts to come and if you enjoyed this and want to hear more from Writing with Labradors, or find out about my books, why not follow me on Facebook,Twitter,  Instagram or  Medium?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St Adamnan’s Church and Groudle Glen #OscarWalks

St Adamnan’s Church and Groudle Glen #OscarWalks

St Adamnan’s Church

There was a slight delay in the opening post of Oscar’s weekly adventures, because of the sad loss of Joey. We’ve all been struggling a bit with this, but Oscar and I agree that it’s time to get back into action again. Joey was very enthusiastic about the new series, and gave us some excellent suggestions in the weeks before he died. According to Oscar, he is still getting excellent suggestions from both Joey and Toby, many of which seem to involve stealing food from kitchen surfaces and trying to get books down off my shelves. I’m not sure about this. Either Oscar is a Medium and is receiving messages from the doggie spirit world or he thinks he can blame his crimes onto his departed brothers. Could be either, really.

View from St Adamnan’s Church, Lonan

Anyway, we did these two walks a few weeks back. Oscar loves Groudle Glen and beach and I wanted to walk up to St Adamnan’s Church and take a few photos since both these locations featured in my Christmas story, Colby Fair. We’d had five days of rain and then unexpectedly, after lunch, the sun came out and it was a beautiful, cold afternoon when we parked and set off up a narrow road towards the church.

”Where are we going, Mum?”

“We’re visiting a church, Oscar.”

“What’s a church?”

“It’s a building where people go to pray.”

“Do dogs pray?”

“I don’t know, Oscar. You’d have to ask some other dogs.”

“I’ll ask Joey. And Toby. Toby must know this stuff. He knows a lot more than he did when he was alive.”

“It would be hard for him to know less. Stop pulling, Oscar.”

“Sorry. What’s that smell? And that one? And that one and…what’s that?”

“It’s a sheep. Don’t worry it.”

“It’s enormous. It’s worrying me.”

“You’re not like Joey, I must say, he’d have been trying to get over that gate to visit the sheep.”

“I always knew Joey was brave. I’m not going near that thing. What’s that?”

“It’s the church.”

“It’s broken.”

“It’s partly ruined, Oscar. Come and have a look round.”

There has been a church on this site since the middle of the fifth century, and it was probably a centre of pagan worship before that. The first church or keeill was built by travelling monks on a main pack horse road between Douglas and the north. There was a well with running water and it was close to two good landing beaches. The church was rebuilt a number of times and remained the parish church until 1733 when parishioners complained that the location was inconvenient, and it was decided to build a new parish church in a more central position. 

After the new church was built, which took almost 100 years, St Adamnan’s fell into disrepair, but fortunately was not demolished. It was rediscovered when John Quine became Vicar of Lonan in 1895 and he set out to restore the ancient building.

“Why doesn’t this half have a roof?”

“It’s a ruin. This is the old part of the church. The other part was restored later on, it’s still a church.”

“With a roof.”

“That’s right.”

“Can we go in?”

“If you promise to be very good. I’d like to take some photos.”

“Of me?”

“Not this time, Oscar.”

“Good. I HATE posing for photos when I’m out, I don’t like standing still.”

“I can see that.”

“Mum. Bored now.”

“All right. Let’s have a quick look round the churchyard and then we’ll drive down to Groudle. There are some Celtic Crosses here.”

“Boring. Can we walk to Groudle?”

“We could, but we’re going in the car.”

“Boring.”

“Because it will be dark soon, and you don’t like walking when it’s very dark.”

“Who does? It’s full of shadows and weird shapes and those big woolly things.”

“Sheep, Oscar.”

“That’s ‘em. Don’t trust ‘em.”

Groudle Glen is close to Onchan and is formed in a valley leading down to a small beach. It was developed as a tourist attraction in the nineteenth century when it was planted with a variety of trees. In its Victorian heyday there were bowling and croquet greens, a holiday camp on the headland and a water wheel. The wheel was still visible until very recently, when it was removed for restoration. There was a refreshment kiosk, a bandstand and at the edge of the glen, a small zoo featuring sea lions and polar bears, created by damming a small cove. This was reached by a narrow gauge steam railway, which still exists today and is run by a dedicated team of volunteers.

The glen was a major tourist attraction in Victorian times, with a dance floor, a bandstand, a playground, stalls, kiosks and even a fortune teller. Most of these have now disappeared apart from the railway, and the glen today consists of peaceful footpaths which are much frequented by dog walkers.

“DOOOOOOOGS! I love coming down here. There are smells and water and a beach and trees and paths and mud and other DOOOOOGS!”

“Calm down, Oscar. You’re supposed to be giving our readers a description of the glen and the beach from a Labrador’s point of view.”

“I am. DOOOOOOGS! TREEEEES! All the SMEEELLLLLS! And no sheep. I hate sheep.”

“I know, Oscar. Some dogs chase sheep, you know.”

“Not me.  I hide when I see sheep.”

“I know. Behind me. Last week you nearly tripped me up by wrapping the lead round my legs when you saw a sheep. It was half a mile away on the other side of a fence.”

“It looked at me funny. OMG it’s the SEEEEAAA!!! Swimming! Throw the ball, Mum! Further than that! Aren’t you coming in, it’s great!!!”

“Maybe in the summer, Oscar.”

“Do sheep swim?”

“Not willingly.”

“Good. That’s why I love the sea.”

“Come on, Oscar, I want to walk up the path to the railway track before it’s dark to take a photo. You could do with a run to dry off a bit.”

“I don’t need to dry. I’m a Labrador, we like water. I can run round like this all day.”

“Good boy.”

“Mum…I’m cold.”

“Back to the car then, Oscar. I’ve got your towel there. Was that a good walk?”

“Great. Where next?”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Tired now…”

Look out for more #OscarWalks posts to come and if you enjoyed this and want to hear more from Writing with Labradors, why not follow me on Facebook, Twitter,  Instagram or  Medium?

 

 

Blogging with Oscar

Oscar is ready to Blog

“Blogging with Oscar! OMG, OMG I’m so excited! Finally, after all this time, she’s letting me have my very own guest post on Writing with Labradors! What do I do, what do I say? I’ve got so much to talk about, I have so many thoughts, and it’s making me run round and round and round and round….. JOEEEEEY!!!!”

 

“Calm down, Oscar. It’s just a blog post, no need to explode. Come and sit down and I’ll talk you through it. What have you got there?”

The wreck of my Wellington biography…

“It’s a book-thing. I found it on the sofa, it was just lying there, and I thought that’s going to taste great, so I…”

“Oh no, you need to put that down, lad, she’ll go mental. You know what she’s like about her books, and that one looks like it’s got a picture of Wellington on the front.”

“Wellington? You mean like a boot? I love Wellington boots, I’ve chewed three of them now.”

“I know you have, Oscar. Still finding bits of them in my bed. No, Wellington is a name.”

“A name? Like my name? A dog name? Is Wellington a dog?”

“Not yet, Oscar, but don’t be surprised if it is one day. She wanted to call you Wellington, but the rest of the family put a stop to it. But she’s probably going to get her way eventually. Now put the book down, come and sit down. You need to introduce yourself.”

“Right. Right, yes, I do. Okay. What now?”

“Tell the readers of Blogging with Labradors about yourself.”

“Right. Well, my name is Oscar, I’m a black Labrador, I’m nineteen months old and I live on the Isle of Man. Which is a GREAT place to be a Labrador. We’ve got beaches and glens and rivers and parks and hills and SO many places to go for a walk.”

“Where were you born, Oscar?”

“I came from Nottingham which is a long way away. I lived with my Mum and Dad and all my brothers and sisters. We used to talk a lot about our new homes and where we would go and then one day my new Mum turned up and off I popped. It was a very long car journey, but I sat in a little cage next to her and we stopped for toilet breaks and cuddles and she talked to me all the time. And THEN we went on a big boat called a ferry, and she took me into this little room called a Dog Cabin and we went to sleep.”

“Did you realise straight away that she was crazy?”

Baby Oscar with my old fella, Toby, much missed

“No, that took a bit longer. Anyway, we arrived and met all the family. And of course you and Toby. And here I am. I still miss old Toby.”

“So do I, lad. He was a great dog. Not that bright, mind. Nothing between the ears. I was glad when you came and it turned out you’d got a brain. Thought all black Labs were as daft as him until I met you.”

“Anyway, here I am. Having a marvellous time on the Isle of Man. She’s been telling me that we’re going to start doing some blog posts about all the places we visit on the island, to tell people how great it is here. Blogging with Oscar. I thought you could help with that, Joey?”

Joey considering his next post

“Me? I’m a bit old to be traipsing all over the island these days, lad, that’s your job, but I don’t mind helping with the posts a bit. I don’t go far these days, but I’ve got a good memory. What’s the first post going to be about, do you know?”

“No. The beach? Or the glen? Or the Prom? Or Nobles Park? Or Castletown? Or…”

“You’re running in circles again, Oscar. Might need to go out into the garden and play for a bit, to get you calmed down.”

Snake is one of their favourite toys

“Great idea, Joey. Let’s take Snake! Or Gorilla! Or Theon Greybear! Or Brown Bear! Or….”

“Come on then, lad, before you fall over your own feet again.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many thanks to Oscar and Joey for their help with today’s post. You’ll be hearing more from Oscar on Writing with Labradors as we’re starting a regular Tuesday post entitled Visits with Labradors describing Oscar’s adventures. Probably with a lot of help from Joey…

You can follow their adventures, as well as my writing, on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram  and Medium

 

 

 

Joey the Brave

It’s been a stressful day at Writing with Labradors and the result of this is that my blog post about the Wellington Congress has been postponed in favour of the story of Joey the Brave, hero of the great Millennium Oak Wood battle of 2019.

Walking my dogs can be a slightly complicated matter these days, since Joey and Oscar have very different needs. Joey, at almost thirteen and with severe arthritis, and let us be honest, a bit of extra weight, cannot go the distance with one year old Oscar who can run all day. At the same time, the dogs love to be together and when I leave the house with Oscar, Joey will scrabble at the front door to try to join us.

My solution to this is to take Oscar on a long walk daily, and then to take the two of them out together two or three times a week, to a spot where Oscar can race around and Joey can just mooch. Beaches are good for this, but for a short trip I often drive up to Millennium Oak Wood which is a park in Douglas.

The park is usually packed with dog walkers. You get to know some of them by sight, usually finding out the names of dogs before owners. Most are very friendly. Some will be kept on the lead, a bit more wary. Since Oscar came on the scene, I’m very conscious that he can be a bit boisterous and always keep treats and the lead to hand in case he upsets another dog.

I’ve heard stories of dogs being attacked by other dogs and have always considered myself very lucky that in all my years as a dog owner it has never happened to me. Today it did.

The dog was off the lead and his owner a fair way off, absorbed in her mobile phone. I’m guessing that her dog had never been aggressive before or presumably she’d have been more wary. The dog, which looked like a collie cross of some kind, was bouncy and definitely interested in Oscar. There was a lot of leaping around, as there often is, but no barking and no sign of aggression. And then quite suddenly, with no warning, the dog went for Oscar, its teeth at his neck, and pinned him to the ground.

It was one of those moments when time goes slowly. I was moving towards them, running and yelling. The dog’s owner was shouting although she made no attempt to move towards her dog to haul it off. I think I’d decided to give the dog a kick to try to scare it off, but I had no time to do so.

Something large and yellow and far too fat to run went past me at high speed and crashed into the dog, teeth bared and snarling. The collie let go of Oscar, who was yelping in pain, and turned, suddenly realising that our local pensioner had his teeth around its leg. It panicked, backed off, and finally ran to its shrieking owner.

I was kneeling down, trying to check if Oscar was injured, when I realised that the dog owner had taken off at a run, with her dog, out of the gate of the park. I will never understand why she didn’t stop to check that we were all right. Somebody else did, a really nice young guy with a huge dog, who walked me back to the car park to check we were all right. By the time we got there, Joey could barely walk, his back leg dragging after his unexpected charge. I wish I’d thought to ask the young man’s name, he was such a star.

Back home, and Joey was dosed with extra painkillers and given lots of love and praise. Oscar was definitely jumpy for a bit but is calm now. He’s not hurt, I think his very solid collar took the worst of it, there were marks on that. I’m a bit worried about how he’ll be the next time I take him out but I’m sure he’ll settle. Joey was uncomfortable for a while but has settled down and is snoring peacefully.

Joey and Oscar don’t tend to share a bed any more; they’re just too big and it wouldn’t be comfortable. But adorably, this afternoon when they got back, Oscar clung to Joey as if he was a puppy again. And Joey let him.

I’m so thankful that it wasn’t worse, and so grateful for the young man who helped us. Writing with Labradors reports that the company is intact, with only slight damage. Their report is as follows:

At approximately 16.00 hours the enemy attacked an outpost guarded by Lieutenant Oscar. For a short time it looked as though the lieutenant might be overwhelmed, but a surprise attack led by Colonel Joey caused the enemy to retreat in disarray. The commander-in-chief commends the bravery of Colonel Joey who will be mentioned in dispatches.

All troops have been checked over by the regimental surgeon and pronounced fit for duty, after some rest.

Joey the Labrador

I thought long and hard about sharing our experience with Joey the Labrador during the past 72 hours. Part of me thought it was too cold and contrived to talk about that many tears and that much stress on a blog post.  The other part of me is aware that since I started Writing with Labradors just over a year ago, hundreds of people have not only read, but interacted with me about my writing, my life and more than anything else, my dogs.  Toby and Joey, my elderly labradors, have become firm favourites with a large number of people and our new arrival, Oscar, has been hugely popular.

Eventually I’ve decided to share.  The story isn’t over yet, we’re still up in the air and we’re hoping for a good outcome but we still don’t know for sure. But my beautiful Joey has given us a major fright and I can’t go on sharing pretty photos of them all without telling the story.

About 48 hours ago, Joey’s back legs suddenly stopped working. This isn’t uncommon with labradors; Toby has bad arthritis and falls over occasionally, although much less so since we started giving him joint supplements. But with Joey it was sudden and shocking and he seemed in agony.

We’ve been backwards and forwards to the vet several times. Yesterday morning he couldn’t get up at all and we cried, all of us, on and off, waiting for the vet to open, knowing that the time might have come, far too soon and totally out of the blue, to say goodbye to a beloved member of our family. Joey is twelve and not the oldest of our dogs and to be honest we didn’t expect it to be him.

It took three of us; my husband, my son and myself to get him into the car and down to the vet. My daughter stayed at home, crying over the other two dogs. We promised her that if it was bad news we’d make sure she had time to say goodbye.

The vet, who is fabulous, came out of the surgery to examine Joey in the back of the car. He was fairly relaxed, wagging his tail. Eventually she asked us to get him down and on his feet if possible so that she could check his reflexes. I felt a bit sick, knowing how painful it was going to be for him, but Jon and Richard did it and he stood there, letting her move his legs about.

“It doesn’t seem neurological,” the vet said, finally. She sounded slightly surprised. Joey looked up at her intently. Then he gave a little woof and went for a walk.

Joey wasn’t on a lead. He couldn’t walk; it seemed superfluous. We all stood there watching him in some surprise for a minute. My brain came back online first.

“He’s not going to stop,” I said.

Nobody moved or spoke.

“He’s going,” I said, starting to move. I had flip flops on and I couldn’t run.

“He can’t run,” Richard said, watching him.

“He’s bloody running,” I said, tripping over my own feet.

At that point, the wisdom of taking an active nineteen year old became obvious as Jon raced across the car park and caught Joey on the curb before he went into the road.

Having rediscovered his legs, Joey tripped around the car park (on a lead) did what he needed to do and came home with us. So far the vet has diagnosed a severe arthritic flare up, probably exacerbated by an injury (chasing a new puppy around possibly?)

Joey is home now. Yesterday he was not running around, or even walking. He was clearly in pain but he could get up and down when he needed to and he’s got a shedload of anti-inflammatory drugs and painkillers. His tail is still wagging.

This morning, Joey came out into the front garden. It seemed difficult for him and he flopped down again and wouldn’t move. I was starting to get anxious again, it was a long time since he’d done a wee, but nothing shifted him. Nothing until Jon came past with Oscar on a lead, taking him for his morning walk. Suddenly Joey was up and at the gate, looking expectant. I got the point and got his lead. Outside the garden, we didn’t go far, but just watching him mooch around on his feet and behaving normally was a joy.

Oscar curled up with Joey
Oscar cuddling Joey

Oscar has been unbelievable with him. At first he seemed confused that his friend wouldn’t play but now he’s just cuddled up to him, happy to be close.

By this evening, Joey was almost back to his old self. He has started requesting to go for a walk, only very short ones to the end of the road and back, but so much more than we expected. This evening at feeding time, we found him sitting at the top of the three steps to the utility room. While Anya and I were still working out how to get him down without hurting him he stood up and walked down them as though he’d never been injured.

Writing with Labradors is in shock. It’s one thing to know that your old boys are getting on. It’s another to find yourself face to face with the reality of losing a dog that you adore. We still don’t know the long term prognosis for Joey although it’s looking very good at the moment. But it has given us a reality check.

The boys enjoying the sun this afternoon

I love my dogs. There is no part of me, that is ready to say goodbye to any one of them although when the time comes I will do the right thing. In the meantime I feel as though I’ve just both dodged a bullet and had a rehearsal for what might happen in the future.

 

Writing with Labradors. They don’t live forever but while they’re with me, I love them to bits.