Mindy Hammond says it's a dog's life down at Hammond Towers

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SUSAN HELLARD

It’s a dog’s life down at Hammond Towers

Regular readers may be aware that a few months ago, I went on a long round trip to the Lake District to pick up a smooth-coated collie pup called Blea. She was bred by Richard’s long-time friend Les, who farms sheep and works his happy band of collies up hill and down dale.

Since Blea’s arrival, she’s settled in very well and understands that cats are family members and are never to be chased. She also knows that chickens aren’t snacks, reeds on the pond aren’t the same as grass and, most importantly, collie puppies don’t float like ducks do.

We knew, from meeting her mother, that Blea would never be a big dog, but she really is surprisingly small and wiry and up until recently would cower at the feet of new people. She looked like an advert for an anti-cruelty charity.

These days, though, she seems much happier, leaping all over visitors (and she’s very bouncy!). Although telling her to sit works instantly, it’s often too late and the victim’s best jeans are already covered in mud. Still, it’s not the worst habit a dog can have – it’s far nicer that she’s more confident with strangers and fortunately, there are very few visitors to our house who aren’t dog-friendly.

We love her to bits and she’s everyone’s friend. In fact, our only ongoing problem with little Bleabot is nothing related to temperament or adorableness. It’s mostly related to her personal hygiene – or lack of it. She can go out for walks lasting hours, play with all the other dogs, have a training lesson with Willow on the vast array of agility apparatus and rummage around in the fields, but for some reason she regularly mistakes her bed for an indoor toilet. 

Many years ago, I had a similar problem with Tg, who took for ever to house train, and the honest truth is that it’s just a game of patience. 

Blea’s improving, but I think part of the problem is the level of excitability. Tg was like a coiled spring until she was four years old and Blea, although very quiet for a collie, gets overexcited quite often on her blanket.

The other dogs look at her in slight disgust, although they have a nerve – some of them have their own little problems and Blea is trying her very utmost to lend a paw where she can. You see, Crusoe, our beautiful tricoloured collie, is 14 this year and for the past few years we’ve had a recurring problem at the first signs of the cold weather.

She loses weight, loses her coat and generally looks terrible. She’s had the full raft of tests each year, with no result, and we’ve finally accepted that she’s simply getting on in years, although over the past 12 months she began losing her sight, hearing and, well, her marbles.

Now, when she comes for the morning and evening walks, she needs to stay close otherwise she tends to forget where she is, what she was doing and can’t see where anyone has gone. Tg will often stick close by and Crusoe will follow her tail, but Tg is easily distracted and although Captain, the terrier, loves Crusoe, he’s far too interested in trying to get into the dustbin to worry about where she might be.

After all, if he gets home first he’ll get the best spot on their shared bed! So who is it, do you suppose, who sees me searching with a torch, hears me calling and trying desperately to whistle a ridiculously high-pitched note that Crusoe might be able to hear? Little Blea.

She seems to know the problem and will shoot off to find the old lady. Unfortunately, she then shoots back to me far too quickly for Crusoe to keep up. But if I follow her, I’m usually reunited with our slightly confused old dear, who takes a moment then realises it’s me and wags her tail with delight as if to say, “Ooh! 

It’s you! How lovely! Are we going somewhere?”

She’ll then happily trot by my side (with the occasional guiding hand on her back) to the warmth of her room and her terrier sleeping partner. She often thinks it’s teatime, even first thing in the morning, and sniffs her bowl rather disappointedly, but the one place she understands is her bed. Meanwhile, once Blea knows she’s reunited us, she’ll rush off to find a stick or a ball for a last-minute game.

So although she may have her little problem – and I had been nervous at the prospect of taking on a working-strain collie – there’s no denying that little Blea is part of the family now. She is one of the most adorable creatures and has become a lifeline for Crusoe.

Clever girl! 

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