On Sunday afternoon I took these two herberts out for a round-village trundle.
There’s a field with a public
footbath footpath that we haven’t been in before that I thought we’d give a go.
Our usual fields are waterlogged, and we haven’t been down through any of them for a couple of months because they’re under deep water.
But this one – this previously unwalked-by-us field – looked like it had good verges, so I consulted the Herberts and they agreed to give it a go.
We got about three-quarters down the length of the first verge, before it got too boggy to carry on, so I turned round and the dogs followed me back.
About halfway back to the gate Chewie legged it off the verge and bolted across the field.
He still has a puppy brain, you see?
I called him back and he ignored me. I called him back louder and he ignored me. I shouted him back and he ignored me; he just carried on at warp speed heading for the far hedge.
Behind the hedge on the far side of the field is the Melton Mowbray to Nottingham main road.
It’s a very busy road!
By now Chewie was about 150m away and still going strong.
I looked at Robyn who was sat at my feet, she looked at me, and then something clicked in her head and she took off after him at full speed.
She caught him up, ran him down (he splatted into the field when she ran right over him), and then she ran straight back to me.
And Chewie picked himself up and followed her.
Robyn got lots of pats and love; Chewie, when he arrived, looked a bit sheepish but I had to give him some love too.
It was an amazing act of shepherding from Robyn. She knew precisely what she was doing, and knew what to do to get Chewie’s puppy brain attention back on track.
When we got back home they had tea and later they had a much-needed shower.
The mud that came off the pair of them made the water look disgusting.
But we had two clean, fresh-smelling dogs.
And a very relieved doggydaddy.