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Not a lot is happening on the farm that I…

Not a lot is happening on the farm that I can tell you about, we seem to be spending most of the time clearing up the mess. One of the people who lives on the farm does Morris Dancing, his group went to Brittany to dance the day before the flood. A friend of his that went with him, left his car parked at the farm. The normally best place to park is by the side of a fence that fences off a small pond. It will be safe there I assured his friend as they left on their journey, although you may not have any wheels. left when you return, I added jokingly. Famous last word they were. I saw them parking when they returned last evening. I didn’t want them to have to much of a shock at the damage, so I went out to warn them, one that the cottages had been flooded and that the friends car was a write off. When I started to tell them they initially thought that I was joking, looks OK to me said the friend, believing that I was carrying on the joke, from the week before, about the wheels. They soon realised that it was no joke.

Telling about Breeze and the electric fencer reminded me of an incident with my elder lads dog, Jack. Jack was a cross Pit Bull Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Somehow Jack finished up living with my Mother, when she lived in London. On a couple of occasions Jack came with my Mother, when she came to visit. He was a very friendly and happy dog that you could not dislike, and as tough as old boots, nothing ever hurt him, even when my Lad reversed over him in his car by mistake when he reversed off of my Mothers drive. By all accounts Jack just looked at my Lad in annoyance that he had been disturbed, when he got out of his car to see what had made the back of the car go up at the back, as he was reversing.

I would make it a point to take our dogs for a walk up the valley most nights, so that Jack was able to run about with other dogs, something he was never able to do in London. He really did enjoy himself on the farm with the freedom he got. He would pick up the largest branches that he could find, some as large as four plus inches round and over twelve feet in length, so large that when he tried to get through a farm gateway he would come to an abrupt standstill when the branch was to large to go through. You would have thought that the branch would have knocked his teeth out, or at least of hurt him so that he yelped, with the force that would stop him, not Jack, he was tough.

We always leave the farm house door open in warm weather, so that the Dogs can come in and out as they wish. One morning I saw Jack go out, he ambled down to the fence around the pond in front of the house, in the farm yard. He carried up the drive to the gateway of the first field, that the pond backs onto. I knew that he would not go far, so I wasn’t really concerned until he let out one almighty yelp, it was the first and only time that I heard Jack yelp. I ran to see what had happened to him, he alright, but I could tell by the way that he was licking himself what had happened. Jack had cocked his leg towards an electric fence wire, the shock had gone up his urine. We had the electric fence wire around the top and bottom of the pond fence with other protection, so that the Fox and Badgers could not get into the pond to get at our selection of exotic Duck and Geese.

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