Living Between the Lines,  Mum is the word,  Puptales

Dog in a towel

On the day of my mother’s funeral:
As we tried to swallow breakfast – hard to eat when your emotions are roller coasting – we were all a little careless it appears. The dogs were ambling around, not bothering anyone. Flossie appeared to be sleeping. Dave had taken her for a long walk…she was a little muddy so had been dried and wrapped in her dog dressing gown, just as she appears in this photograph.

Dog in a towel
Dog in a towel

Youngest son went out to his car… front door was left open…
Out of the door went Floss before anyone noticed.
Heedless of the brown towelling wrapped around her middle, she headed off into the wheat fields.
Wheat Field
Wheat Field

Next thing I saw, was Dave with a bowl of biscuits in one hand, walking up the lane calling her name. I should have told him that she would see him coming and think, that’s ok, he is coming my way so I can keep going! He was a little too far away for me to shout at him.
He watched as Floss appeared at the other side of the field, looked at him and then headed off in the opposite direction, doing a full circuit before racing through the wheat and running up, panting, to greet him.
Luckily, he had not yet changed from his dog walking clothes of shorts and T shirt, whereas we were all now dressed in our smart gear.
Needless to say, Flossie was minus her towel.
No time to look for it, Floss was dispatched to the naughty corner and, with Dave now more suitably dressed, we headed to the Crematorium.

I won’t dwell on the obvious. We all know numbers have been limited and masks have been obligatory in public places – the Crematorium Chapel was no different. It is what it is.

On our return, the dogs were suitably pleased to see us, Flossie had to be de-burred, or should that be de-wheated? Despite this, she was none the worse for wear.

The next day, Dave went out and scoured the field, returning triumphant a short time later, bearing Flossie’s distinctive brown wrap. The latter was also in dire need of de-burring and could yet be consigned to the bin.
My mother would have laughed and she would surely have excused Flossie for her misdemeanour, she had an overriding love of dogs and in her eyes, they could do no wrong. Quite fitting then that it should be a dog who almost stole the show that day.

For the love of dogs
For the love of dogs

Oh Floss! 

I am an Author, wife to one, mother to five and grandmother to six. I live in the English countryside in Hampshire, UK, with my husband and two dogs and am a non exec Director for Glow

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