Look at how innocent Kizzy looks as a pup....it was all a front I'm telling you....
I love having my dogs I really do, but sometimes I have moments with them when my whole world stops and I have to take a big breath and then hope for the best. Take the other day.....off they flew after something interesting (real or imagined) straight up the side of a cliff and onto a local golf course and out of my line of sight. I know there is a fairly fast road nearby but usually, because we are on the beach, I don't worry about the dogs too much. Bob's with me and after a few minutes of blowing my whistle I can hear Mac crying and whimpering and in my (over-active) minds eye I see him on the road....under a car.......I am off up the cliff as fast as my welly boots can take me. Its steep and my heart is going like a pneumatic drill. Half way up we stop and try and breath and I blow my whistle a bit more. Mac has stopped crying by now and
I 'm thinking he's dead. We reach the top of the cliff exhausted and then have to climb through some thick undergrowth in the woodland around the golf course which has me on my hands and knees crawling through the pine cones. I've got bracken in my hair and possibly some dead hedgehog. When we get to the golf course I head off to the road. I'm almost crying by now, but am still blowing my whistle. I hear a sound and look down and Kizzy has just appeared at my heels with a kind of 'Wassup?'look on her face and then I look behind and Mac is moping along after her feeling sorry for himself because he has a slight graze on his ankle. He shows it to me because there is a lot of blood. I let my whistle drop from my mouth and let out a massive string of swear words which Kizzy takes as praise and then get the big hairy sh*ts on the lead and all four of us walk home exhausted. Here's a video of what happened later that day. Unfortunately, some of us had work to do....
