It's the birthday today of our much loved and sorely missed beardie Angus. Sean and I took Casper and Dougal to Bow Bridge, a local beauty spot which was one of the old boy's favourites as it has a handy stream in which to cool off and a plentiful supply of sticks to be thrown for him. When he was young, Angus's one idiosyncracy was leaping around the bottom of trees and bushes and barking at the birds in them. Bow Bridge was a perfect place to display this peculiar habit and the way we got him to stop was to throw stick, after stick for him until he was so worn out that he collapsed in the stream and forgot all about those pesky birds.
Neither Casper or Dougal show any penchant for bird baiting but, whilst Casper eyes with disdain any sticks waved in front of him, Dougal loves to run for them as fast as his legs will carry him and, as I watched him run in a blur of flying legs bouncing hair, I couldn't help but think about our old, handsome hound Angus. It seems only yesterday that he was doing the same.