Boundaries Bring Freedom
Wales is a hiker's paradise, with meandering paths that often lead through sprawling sheep pastures. These wide, open spaces are Tess's absolute delight. Her little legs stretch to their full capacity as she bounds through the lush green fields, her nose twitching with excitement at each new scent.
However, I've noticed something curious about her behavior. When we walk in areas with no clear boundaries, like pastures with broken fences or open access to the road, Tess becomes my shadow. She practically glues herself to my ankles, occasionally glancing up as if to say, "Just making sure you're still there, Mum." Her anxiety is palpable as she trots along, refusing to stray more than a few feet away.
The transformation occurs when we enter well-fenced pastures. Once Tess sees those secure boundaries in place, she becomes a different dog altogether.
Fireworks Fright!
Last night, our neighbors decided to set off fireworks. It wasn't a holiday or celebration. They simply wanted to enjoy the colorful display. While their desire for entertainment was understandable, poor Tess was absolutely terrified. When I say terrified, I mean she vibrates so intensely that I genuinely fear she might shake apart into a million tiny pieces.
We were in the middle of dinner, with Tess strategically positioned nearby to catch any falling crumbs or tasty morsels. At the first loud bang, I gasped in surprise, and before I could blink, she bolted through the doggie door. By the time Jason and I slipped on our shoes and rushed outside, she had completely vanished. The only evidence of her desperate escape was a small, freshly dug hole beneath the front corner of the fence in the side yard, the spot farthest from the fireworks.
Breakfast in Bed
The other morning, Jason and I were sitting in bed, watching a show. It had been a crazy busy week and even crazier weekend, so we decided to take an easy morning. We had just finished breakfast in bed when I noticed Tess pulling at the covers.
She usually does this when she's cold and is trying to get snuggled under the blankets. I hardly gave it a second thought at first, assuming she wanted her usual warm nest between us. However, on this particular occasion, she had a different goal entirely.
I watched her unusual behavior for a few minutes. She would tug at the blanket, disappear from the bedroom, then return moments later to hop onto the bed. Each time she returned, I noticed a slight crunching sound. Curious, I paid closer attention during her next trip.
That's when I suddenly realized what she was doing.
Forgotten Sheep, Faithful Shepherd
Last Friday, Tess and I walked through a valley of dry bones. Well, it wasn’t really a valley; it was a pasture. As for the dry bones, I wish I were making that part up.
Due to the Welsh Enduro Motorbike race taking place in our little village last weekend, I decided to avoid our usual trails (many of which were used as part of the race route) and explore a trail I had spotted on a few occasions but never tried. As is common with many Welsh trails, the initial path led to a sheep pasture.
Seeing the field empty and knowing how much Tess loves to run and frolic, I decided we would wander around for a while. She could run, sniff, and play off-lead, while I meandered at my own pace. At first, everything was going great.
A Tale of Two Tongues
For the most part, Tess is very well-behaved and has good manners. But, I have to admit, when it comes to food, all bets are off. Just the other day, I had my dinner plate sitting in my lap. I turned to say something to Jason, and when I turned back, I spied a certain tongue licking at my food. I promptly corrected her, but it was difficult since Jason was laughing at her antics. In his best "Tess impression," he said, "But Mommy, you know my tongue has a mind of its own." And suddenly, there was a heavenly thump in the back of my head. How often does my tongue have a mind of its own?