Sorry it has been so long since I last wrote, the longer you
leave it the harder it is to get back into the swing. So a belated happy new
year and here goes.
Unfortunately I had a funeral to attend last month. As is
usual, lots of relatives travelled from far and wide to attend and as such my
mum opened her house to lots of people to warm up and have a cup of tea.
Charlie was very good, he didn’t jump and went round to the various people to
be petted. People often say that dogs can sense sadness so perhaps he
understood that he needed to behave. Perhaps not!
I let Charlie into the garden, there are French doors along
the length of the sitting room so he was quite visible. Chatting away to a relative
I looked outside and it appeared Charlie had picked something up in the snow. Down
it went again, he was carrying it and then dropping and nudging it so I looked
closer. A lump of snow? Piece of ice? Nope. A dead bird, a little dead song
bird. Out I went to check and as soon as he saw me he guzzled down the bird as
best he could. I called him over and he actually came, but all that I could see were its little feet
sticking out of the front of his mouth. Now Charlie is not a retriever, I have
been working on fetch but it is not a strong point and certainly was not in
effect that day. I took hold of him and was shaking his collar shouting drop in my most authoritative voice,
my sister came out with some kitchen roll so that we would not have to touch
the bird with our hands and was ready to catch. This was not working. My step
dad came out and tried to pull his jaw apart but Charlie was not letting go. I
tried putting my fingers over his nostrils to make him open his mouth, nothing.
My uncle came out and was trying to pull the bird from his mouth, sister ready
to catch, step dad prising the jaws, me shaking the dog, all shouting "drop".
In the end, with the
efforts of all four of us, my uncle managed to grab the bird from his mouth. Calm at last.
I looked up. 20 horrified faces, dressed in black, mouths open had been
observing the chaos through the French doors. Only Charlie could pick this of
all days to attempt to swallow a bird whole.
