ITS A DIARY !
This is a diary, or rather, field notes written up each day, with the latest entry at the top.
To get the full story, start at the bottom entry in the archive, and read upwards.
Then read the current diary entries from the bottom up as well.
Once you've got the full story, just visit and read the new story for the day!
The yellow and pink squiggly lines are two walks we take. The yellow one is the one we usually do. The squigglyness indicates how Madame visits her several important sniffing check-points!
We stop several times to feed the ravens, and you can see where they come from.
If you right-click on the image and open it in a new tab, you can then zoom in to see more details.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
I left the house at 7.20 a.m. It was dark, not even a hint of dawn, but it was mild.
I had heard raven calls a good hour before I left, and later there were robins singing their hearts out.
This was a difficult walk, my heart was heavy. I walked all round Llandaff Fields, not our usual routes but combining the two. I needed to say good-bye, for Madame Dog, to all her favourite places.
I had brought scraps for the ravens, but as I walked into the ravens field from the far end, coming from the little arboretum, I was not looking out for the ravens. I walked all along the fence and wall, bordering the allotments at the top of the ravens field - that was where we played all those summers, first with Big Dog, then just Madame and me.
The bold raven came as I approached the enclosure - he was not sure about me, because not only did I come from a different direction, I also was on my own.
He had watched me from one of the big maples along the wall.
So I threw some scraps - and his companion came as well. I told them that Madame had died, and that she would never bark at them, chase them, or stare at them ever again.
As I went to the big field, Bas and Karen turned up - Bas running joyfully towards me. I told Karen that Madame Dog had died. We separated at the spinney, and I went back into the ravens field, crying and feeding the ravens.
They followed me back into the big field, the bold raven walking behind me, cawing loudly. As I threw scraps for him and his companion, the quarry pair also turned up, making quorking sounds behind my back. When I turned round, they both were displaying that juvenile begging posture.
When all the scraps had gone, I went back, lonely and sad, but determined not to forsake the ravens.
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- ▼ January (31)
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