walkies * (published) Dec 2008

I’ve just been outside to scrape off the global warming from the car windscreen, the temperature inside my car was 23F, pretty cold for England in December.

My fifteen year old companion wasn’t the least bit concerned, he will go for walkies in any condition, rain snow or pestilence, any time, day or night.

I’ve always admired a Terrier’s tenacity and ‘Snowy’ has plenty of that, Including enough balls to see off a ‘Pit-Bull’.

It never ceases to amaze me how, without constantly looking, a dog knows where he is in relation to the topography, his G.P.S is far better than the one in the dashboard.

Just before we approach a spot where he saw a cat seven years ago, he will excitedly press his nose against the window to see if it’s still there…............as if it’s even still alive.

Before I have the chance to pull on the handbrake my companion is trying to open the door with his teeth. As soon as the door is opened he’s off, chasing what ever it is he imagines is there, I won’t see him until I get to the woods.

Sure enough he’s patiently waiting; oddly I’ve never known him to venture into ‘Sweetwillow Woods’ alone. I guess he must have heard the rumours.

The wood sits on the edge of a fifteen hundred acre estate, privately owned by the same family for the past eighteen generations, they don’t like walkers and employ an Irish Wolfhound with a vicious gamekeeper at the other end of the leash. Fortunately I drink with ‘Lurch’at the local pub and we have a mutual respect for one another, after all we are friends.

On the other side of the wood is a modern hospital with a secure unit for insecure people, who just happen occasionally to go walkabouts.

There’s one particular guy who looks a bit like Paul Hogan, and the locals call him 'Crocodile Dundee the fruit cake', because of his habit of walking alone in the woods at night. I must confess I have never seen him.

As I enter the wood it's just about dusk, I am startled by a couple of wood pigeons crashing out of the pine trees, they make off in a panic to a more private location, this is a good indication that I'm alone. I prefer it that way.

There is nothing like solitude in a darkened wood, the only sound is my footsteps and all I can see is Snowy leading the way, about three feet in front of me. I'm really not sure of the way out, but I have every confidence in my dogs ability.

Half an hour into our walk we walk out of the wood and entered the forty acre meadow, we are not alone, two hundred sheep are keeping us company. If you have ever walked in a field with sheep at night, I can tell you it's a bloody minefield, Snowy was my shit detector and I followed him exactly, weaving, twisting and jumping, we came to the stile without incident and entered the woods for the return journey.

My dog faithfully stops and waits at the muddy stream for me to pick him up, he knows from bitter experience; if he gets dirty he will be hosed off when he gets home. I know every stepping stone across that stream even in the dark and Snowy sits comfortably under my arm confident in my navigational ability.

As I start to walk through the pine wood, Snowy stops dead in his tracks and whimpers.

Pine needles form a thick blanket on top of the surface roots and make a very effective sounding board, if anything walks on or even tipi-toes across it, it can be felt a considerable way off. I felt it immediately and picked up Snowy. I hid behind a large pine and I could feel what ever it was getting closer and closer, I froze to the spot, every hair on the back of my neck erect and standing to attention.

I really do regret not having my camera...........out of the gloom, just fifty yards away emerged a fully grown deer, we must have seen one another at the same time, but he was a lot quicker than me at making a retreat and disappeared in a flash with my dog in hot pursuit; it took snowy a good ten minutes to find me again and I could see from his tail he'd lost his quarry.

I got back to the frost covered car almost exactly two hours after leaving it; I pondered my stop at the local while the windscreen defrosted, I was looking forward to my two pints and a chat.

With the taste of Tetley's on my lips I related the tale of the deer to two of the locals. One of them remarked how bloody stupid I was to walk in those woods with a potential maniac on the loose, but I was quietly confident that I was never in danger of being attacked by anyone because I alone know the identity of 'Crocodile Dundee the fruit cake'............................................and I'm not telling a soul. The woods are my territory and I like to walk alone.

K.M. published Toro magazine(Canada)