Living on Exmoor, I have been lucky enough to share some time with my Springer Spaniel , Flynn. The times we spent walking on the moors were bliss.
A message to Flynn:
What a glorious dog you were, my boy Flynn. Happy to see me arrive home, ecstatic when we leapt into the car for the short drive up to the moors. Head through the window, wind blowing your ears back, desperate to get out.
As soon as the door was open, out you shot, chasing imaginary foes, scenting the ground. Occasionally you managed to scare up a pheasant, or a deer but rabbits..oh yes, you did love rabbits. Head buried as far as it would go in their burrows, snout covered with soil, but you never caught one. Thank heavens, I am pretty sure neither of us would have known what to do with it.
Then down to the brook, the muddier the better, bringing me the largest stones you could find. Not waiting for them to be thrown, but back in the water to find bigger and better ones, I don’t know why you did it, but we both enjoyed it. Covered in mud, well, always you and occasionally me , we climbed back up to the car and headed home, tired, muddy and in your case pretty smelly..but happy.
I miss those times Flynn, I still walk there of course, I still enjoy the moors, the sounds and sights make me happy. But oh, I miss those times.