Saturday, October 13, 2007

Couch Potato



Two things before I turn to my topic of the day. First the post contains images of nudity. In fact lets get that out of the way straight away, I am so warm here on Halletts mountain that I am at present typing to you both in the garden and in the buff. Second, yes the picture that I hope is above this note is of the rear end of a dog. Without going in for the kind of hands on experience that leads a fellow into hot water it’s the best picture of a dogs arse that can muster. I could have provided a snap of ‘mist coloured mountains’ as you will see this would be just as appropriate, but that Knofler fellow used it once and ….look if you had paid attention years ago you would know why it chokes me to be reminded of that song.
You see it all started with a brief moment of inattention on my part. As I went to open the gate leading up the last quarter mile to the house (and by the way, check out the squarey little picture thing, I got a couple of good pics of the house last week…ummm Sal..I’m going Corbett again…) I left the car window open. Well it’s a warm day here and I was trying to keep cool.
Asbo, perhaps not the best behaved dog in the world, spotted an opportunity to express his inner wolf. Followed by the debris of a carrier bag and vegetables that I am hoping to use for a feast later on he exited the car at high speed through the window. Neglecting to pay any attention to the difference in shape between he and it ( I fear here for the dogs bollocks (claim googletrap)), with a mighty high pitched yelp, he set off towards the upper slopes of Hallett’s Mountain, leaving me dumfounded. His quarry, to whom he devotes many waking hours of thought, are the sheep that continue to decorate the wilderness until the first frosts bring them back down to valley farms. So as the dogs arse disappears into low cloud I am forced, admittedly by my own stupidity, to pursue.
We rush over the fence. We clear hummocks of fell grass over the big field. We hurdle a stone wall that must be nearly a metre and a half high, and we set of in earnest over the open ground. After about twenty minutes I have been up to my thighs in a sticky bog, my clothes are filthy, I am covered from head to foot in peat and slime, and I am cursing the ancestors of the dog back several generations.
High on Craig Celynin the sheep are far from worried. They have a fair idea of our relative strengths and weaknesses. They are judging the curses and barks from the mist below them, and are running a book on the likely outcome.
And then a minor miracle. The dog and I burst out of the low cloud somewhere above Maen Pen Ddu into golden sunshine. Asbo looks back at my filth ridden form and throws in his paw. He sits down, rolls over in a submissive gesture and grins. We laugh at each other.
On the way back to collect the car and the shopping, I am secretly very pleased. I have just run nearly two miles through a vertical distance of at least 500 feet. I have also run the dog to ground in the process. Okay it was adrenaline fuelled, but its better than I thought it would feel.
By the time we get back to the house all those little endorphins are making me feel quite mellow, and without a qualm I have discarded my clothes in a heap. As I cool down at the end of the day the mist is breaking up and I sit preparing for our next adventure in warm sunshine and a birthday suit.
Later tonight Asbo and I will be joining the crowd in Paris for the rugby. We will be joining it from a comfy chair, well provided with beer and salty snacks of course. Attending via the magic of television. But its nice to know that we aren’t a pair of couch potatoes.
Bring on the dancing girls…..

16 comments:

sablonneuse said...

Just don't get overexcited watching the match and spill beer all over yourself then.

DaveM said...

I dont mind England winning, although I wanted France in the final, its just that they go on and on about it. Jonny Wilinson again, they only wheel him out for World Cups as he hardly plays in between. Any way my seats booked for tonight as well, I wonder if Argentina can do it.

buffalodickdy said...

My first Airedale was a runner. Escape was her mission, and the following exercise was usually one mile of broken field running. Thank God I was a younger man back then....
You always feel less guilty sitting down and watching TV, when you've had a good workout first!

rivergirlie said...

you earned it all - beer, snacks and girls. enjoy!

Mike said...

You are so lucky. How many people get the chance to just abandon their car in the road while they go for a run in the mountains, and then go back home and sit in the garden naked with no chance of anyone sneaking up on you or passers by being "offended".

Mike

Rosy said...

Wow just giving chase to your dog nearly left me breathless!

"Oh by the way making apple pie the easy way is less work and not a mess when not making it from scratch that is" ;)

headless chicken said...

Your posts often always make me smile, often make me laugh but this one induced several loud guffaws! No pics of you in the buff?....surely preferable to a dogs arse!!!!?

headless chicken said...

erm....often, always...what the....??? Sorry, not woken up fully yet...

Sally Lomax said...

It's amazing what we can do under the influence of adrenaline.

Could we bottle it perhaps?

Lori said...

Such adventures you have with Asbo. I'm glad you caught up with him! Cute photo of him. :)

Tamara said...

Do dogs ever run away DOWNhill?? New Olympic sport--dog chasing (uphill, of course!).

Mike said...

Upon re-reading my last comment I noticed a missing hyphen which I will now correct; passers-by.

Mike

meredic said...

sablonneuse - beer is seldom spilled on Hallett's Mountain. If it is then the dog doesnt let much go to waste.

davem - we have to go on about it a bit your know, some of us remember the early seventies....

buffalodickdy - TV a guilty pleasure. Perhaps your rubbish is better than ours?

rivergirlie - really,artistic licence you know, I had a Perrier and a lettuce leaf to nibble on…….Hic!

Mike – hey come on now, don’t let neighbours and a few measly local by laws stop you!

rosy – I have a lovely well fruited apple tree in my garden and I make pie from scratch every time. Opening all those cans and packets sound too much like hard work.
Although I think crumble is my favourite you know…

headless chicken - not up at half past eight in the morning? Get a grip woman. If you really want pictures of me in the buff then send a plain brown self addressed e-mail to.....etc :-)

sally - I am sure that I had a few junk e-mails offering similar products. I could redirect them to you if you are interested?

lori - adventures. hmmm I am struggling for a better word to describe encounters where I usually wind up either embarrassed, filthy, or naked. Misadventures seems a bit mild as well.

tamara - hey you may have a winner there. I reckon that might go down well with the kennel club as well.

Mike - I am still strugling with capital letter and full stop. Don't confuse me with all this S-level stuff.

headless chicken said...

Meredic, I'd love to not be up by this time in the morning but thanks to the kids I'm always up by 6am! Up and about, lights on but nobody home....the brain doesn't usually get into gear until around 11....

gypsydove said...

i bit behind.. sorry, but that was a great post..

the running the chasing, the wonderful feelings of freedom that you share...

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