Oh yes ... it's a TIGGER kind of morning!

My morning rambles are often punctuated by social discourse with a variety of friends.  The hound of course doesn’t approve of these frequent interruptions to her ramble.  She has a one-track mind.  It’s bad enough that I insist on waiting at the view site for the sun to rise, without having to break stride for social chit-chat.

We were already slightly late leaving this morning ... not because the middle lemming was late or tired ... but because I was TIRED.  Life and it’s stresses are catching up with me and the body’s shouting ‘HELP’ .... loudly.

I ignore its pleas though ... as I ignore anything I disagree with ... and head out the door to get my morning fix of sunshine and soul food.  A very NECESSARY elixir for life.

Tranquility is defined as a state of peace and calm ... free from disturbances and noise.  My early mornings have been anything BUT tranquil lately.  I’m leaving home whilst it’s still dark but so are so many others.  There are unfamiliar ramblers with loud voices, and joggers with heavy feet pounding the pavement and lycra clad loonies on their two-wheel conveyances.

The streets are BUSY ....  and  NOISY.

The lycra-clad looneys are part and parcel of the early morning vista  ... both visually and vocally ... but they move past rapidly and take their noise with them.  The unfamiliar ramblers don’t.

Why does everyone suddenly want a piece of my early morning magic?

We greet several familiar ramblers as we bounce ... oh yes, it’s a Tigger kind of morning .... back down to the beach.  These ramblers know the secret of the magic in the morning and smile serenely back, secure in the knowledge that they, like us, will still be walking up to the viewsite when the frosty fingers of winter engulf us.

The unfamiliar ramblers might not.

Pete was standing on the boardwalk enjoying the morning vista and drinking his coffee.  We discussed cricket ... the Black Cap kind .... the Titanic and cruising in general whilst watching a cruise ship zig-zag through the shipping lane into Auckland Harbour.  It never ceases to make me smile when I see these large liners cruising past so close to shore.

Pete was feeling invincible.  The girls at the Co-op had been having a problem with the coffee grinder and had intended calling out someone to fix it .... but Pete had fixed it for them.  He’s 'the man' and he was revelling in it.  I didn’t dare burst his bubble.

Moira and Fergus joined us on the beach too.  Fergus also likes to be ‘the man’ and puts himself between the hound and the waves.  She finds him quite intimidating ... despite his small stature ... and runs warily around him to retrieve the ball.  He visibly STRUTS when he’s doing it and is so FUNNY to watch! He’s TYPICAL terrier - LARGER than life and not AFRAID of the hound.

It’s not just my hound that’s confused when I’m in the water with her.  Nico had the same quizzical expression on his face when Brian took to the waves today.  Any swim he might have had would have been unintentional as he was only trying to encourage Nico to go deeper.  I had the camera at the ready just in case Brian happened to trip.  

You have to capture these moments for posterity and I know Brian would have thanked me for thinking like that!  He did, after all, neglect to catch one of Carol’s ‘MOMENTS’ on camera a while back.

This is what makes my village real.  The uncomplicated and crazy folk who live here that spend time in the waves and on the sand with their hounds.  They add richly to my life and are JUST as necessary a fix as that morning sunshine and soul food!

This was taken yesterday when she saw Sam arrive on the beach.

They were delighted to see one another and raced through the waves with the ball.

Maniacal Mondays!

Maniacal Monday gave way to Time-out Tuesday and well over 2 hours of rambling at Waiatarua .... just what the Doctor ordered!

Hounds and mud and water and good company were just what I needed today. Yesterday was frenetic. There is always a lot do at the shop on a Monday and I love it, the time passes so quickly. Yesterday was extreme though ... there wasn’t a moment during the day when there wasn’t something needing to be done or customers needing to be helped. Even when I went to the loo, I came back to find 2 customers waiting outside the shop to try on bathing suits.

I have to smile when I think of the differences between the two days ... not just in the frantic pace with which Monday passed but in my visual appearance too. On Mondays I’m preened and pimped  for work .... stockings, high heels or boots, short dress, make-up etc. On Tuesdays it’s a completely different picture ... shorts, long-sleeve T and trainers, jacket and bright orange scarf ... no make-up. Backpack and hound to hand, we head out the door clean and dry only to return a few hours later muddy, wet and windblown .... but on an absolute high.

Sam doesn't want to jump in the river so he's trying to pinch the ball as she climbs out!

There’s something about these hound-accompanied rambles that just feeds my soul, pushes my spirit to new heights and puts bounce into every step I take .... it's that Tigger thing. Would that everyone could feel as good as I do after my rambles. How did I get to be so lucky!

Even coming home and having to hose down the hound and dry her before heading upstairs to clean my trainers doesn’t detract from the elation I feel. Those tasks are part and parcel of owning a hound who loves swimming .... AND mud!

My tasks are simpler than Carol’s especially after we’ve been to Waiatarua. She always brings towels along, as does Julia, for us to dry the hounds before they climb in the car. Despite drying them though, they’re still quite muddy and neither hound is perturbed about shaking in the confines of the car. No matter how much WE think we’ve dried them, there’s still an inordinate amount of water and mud drops that come off when they shake!

Look at that mud dripping off his chin!!

I have great friends .... they don’t seem to mind the additional mess in their cars and the extra load of washing they have from rambling the hounds at Waiatarua. 

Triple mousse .... white, chocolate and dark

Ebony .... being a furry submarine

The dog-pond at Waiatarua has become Sam’s favourite spot since he realised he can swim. He’strong AND, he’s fast and my hound is having to make a huge effort to get to the ball first. It’s a big game to them now .... whoever gets to the ball first has to endure the other one trying to take it off them. Other hounds don’t stand a chance .... these two have it taped!

.... and what she recovered.

We met another Labrador there today, a black girl called Ebony. Not only did she enjoy chasing the ball with our hounds but she would also dive UNDER the water to retrieve whatever debris she could find on the pond floor. She emerged several times with broken tennis balls and long sticks .... all collected from the bottom of the pond. My hound will occasionally put her head under the water if she’s lost a log but she won’t leave it under for long ..... Ebony stays under until she’s able to bring what she’s found to the surface. 

It’s the first time I’ve seen a submersible hound .... she looked like a furry submarine as she hovered just below the water’s surface.

Her owner was a mine of interesting information. I had always thought the Labrador was bred for bird and duck hunting but their first use as a working dog was retrieving fish that wriggled off hooks in the fishing waters of Newfoundland. They were bred to become a hard-working efficient retriever with great talent in cold water. 

Watching our hounds retrieving ball after ball like they do, and swimming in the waves regardless of the temperature shows how strong those natural Labrador traits are.

Hmmm .... an interesting thought ..... we have a fishpond in our garden. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised if my hound catches me a fish one of these fine days!