This morning we were out for a walk on the bridle path leading down to Dawlish Warren; no more cycling – it is far too cold nowadays for normal, non-Lycra wearing cycling folk like Chris and me to take to our bikes. But the sun was shining beautifully and it was the perfect morning to be out and about in the fresh air, which it was, fresh I mean, to the extent that I felt the need to wear a woolly hat and gloves (plus my new pink sunglasses from Spain, naturally).
Last night I posted a photograph of a poinciana tree on fire (seemingly), which came from a friend in Brisbane, and today I have photographs of stinging nettles on ice after the frost overnight. I had just taken the shots and my mobile phone camera was busy “processing” when two men and a white Staffordshire terrier came into view at the bottom of the path. The dog took one look at me and came bounding up to me. It ignored Chris altogether while it wagged it’s trail, rubbed itself up against my legs and craned its neck for my patting and smoothing attentions.
“Fancy that,” I began, “he really seems to like me!”
“He isn’t interested in me,” said Chris.
“Yes, but I’m a dog woman these days, ever since Bella,” I explained unnecessarily. (Chris knows all about Bella – he should do – I forced him to read my book about Bella).
After much fussing, petting and gushing over the friendly white dog, the two men who had been accompanying the dog caught up.
“He’s so cute and friendly. He seems to have taken to me,” I extolled.
“He’s well-trained,” said the owner, “he always makes a beeline to nice ladies and makes the introductions for me!”
All four of us laughed, even Chris, and the two men and the dog carried on their way uphill while we continued down.
We crossed over the railway bridge at the Warren and walked back to Dawlish along the seawall, making it a circuitous route to home. At the “Red Rock Cafe” we met a lady with yet another Staffordshire terrier, this time a black one called Daisy, and again I was sought out for cuddles and petting whilst Chris was ignored completely. I felt rather pleased that I was so popular this morning.
A short time later we were still on the seawall when we came across the two men and the white dog on their way back to Dawlish Warren, having come almost full circle, as we had done. This time my phone camera wasn’t busy “processing” and I asked if I may take a couple of shots of my new four-legged friend. The owner must have thought I was crazy about Staffordshire terrier dogs and told me how to go about getting hold of one for myself; but I wasn’t listening, I didn’t like to tell him the true purpose of my taking the photos – it did not seem appropriate to tell him that really I was more crazy about blogs than dogs (even though I am a dog woman nowadays).
