Dogs and owners - a special breed.

I don't like this part of the cruising year. A time when your sitting tied up to the pontoon. Impatiently waiting for the stoppages to stop and the winter to turn into spring. As a blogger, I become irritated by the lack of day to day boating, as a stimulus for creative ideas. The ideas dry up because I'm not moving around the system. It's at this time that there is a collision between something in life that hurts. Which is balanced against that wishful moment of longing, that things could be very different. 

Today, it's very different. 

Last night I took the dogs for a walk along the tow path. As we were going out of the marina gate I was passed by another boater who was returning with their dogs. We paused in the usual way - that dog owners have to do - whenever different dogs meet. The usual tail wagging and a bit of excited yip-yap as they greeted each other.  Like us the owners have dogs of different ages, the younger ones are quite boisterous the older ones are much more relaxed. With a nod and a cheery word to the owner we soon parted company.

Its surprising what a close knit community boating dog owners are. Our old dog had been quite unwell a couple of weeks ago. The dog owners round about were enquiring from time to time about how she was. Then on Bonfire night Whiskey another boaters dog absconded and went missing for three days. Search parties went out in different directions looking for him. He was eventually returned back home non the worse for his adventure.

A brisk walk was the order of the evening. As now the sun is down, and with clear skys its getting to be quite cold. We soon returned to our boat berth. As I am getting the dogs back aboard I could see that there was something not right a few boats further along. People were quite agitated and animated. Once the dogs were aboard, I went to see what the problem was. It seems that the older dog that we has met a few minutes previously, had somehow slipped and fallen into the canal. Frantic efforts were being made to revive the dog. Unfortunately the efforts were unsuccessful. 

Last night was not a good night, my sleep was disturbed by what had happened. You feel for the owners loss, as a dog owner yourself and kindred spirit.  At the same time you search your brain - was their anything different we could have done. I know that I shall miss seeing old "Fudge" out walking along the towpath at her usual steady pace. At sixteen and a half she knew her prime position. Always, like the  matriarch, bringing up the rear.

Later...