We have been spaniel/sprocker central since early last year.
As soon as spaniel senior came out of pre-inoculation isolation, we started exploring the local countryside with her.
In the village there is a network of footpaths that knit together five very large fields. This network crosses a brook twice on sturdy footbridges. We like the brook. The spaniels like the brook a lot.
One of the fields (we’ll call it The Grass Field) was an enormous manicured lawn; smooth as you like, well-tended, watered and rolled, it was a joy to walk on, sit on, play ball on.
It would also be, I should imagine, a joy to whack a few golf balls on.
So, since we started walking these fields, we have occasionally been picking up golf balls.
Some of these golf balls look barely struck; good to go again, just as soon as someone wanders up with a golf bat to bash them on their way.
Others, though, are much less fortunate; look like they’ve been through the wringer. And if not an actual wringer, they’ve probably been through the mower.
I can’t help wondering what kind of person would spend £100+ on a boxful of golf balls, and just smash them around the countryside and leave them where they land?
But maybe whoever it is that’s doing it isn’t doing it for golfing reasons. Maybe it’s just a form of therapy.
Bish! Take that, colleagues. Bash! Take that, manager. Bosh! Have at you, bad parker.
Anyway, thanks to whoever it is that’s been doing it, and whatever their motives, we have quite a collection of golf balls now.
We’ve picked up a few golf balls over the years. In a small piece of woodland next to our local golf course, I found a cache of them hidden in a tree stump – presumably collected by kids and stashed away for later.
We don’t let the dog play with them though, as they get stuck sometimes in her upper pallet.
PS – not heard back from you, so I’m wondering whether you received my email.
Golf balls are very chewy! (or so I’m told)