Notes from Summer Wood...

Anyway I just lost Safi - again!! You would think I would learn!! I’m not a completely stupid woman- but I do seem to lose my bloody dog with amazing regularity. I can tell when she is about to do it- not before I let her off her lead obviously – that would be stupid- she sniffs the wind in a particular way, she looks elegant and noble, then she is off like the clappers, as though she is running for her life.
Cairo, my other Saluki, (see photo) runs for the joy of running, mouth open, tongue lolling in a great big doggy smile, his head bobbing as he runs greyhound style, covering vast amounts of ground with every stride- huge figure 8s over the fields but he never ventures too far- not unless he sees another dog anyway.
Safi though, she is a mystery 9 times out of 10 she will be fine then just when you think it is safe- whoosh she has gone!
They do say if you have a Saluki that does come to call that you should doubt its parentage as it won’t be a full Saluki. I know nothing of the parentage of my two, they were both rescues- Safi however does appear to be a full Saluki. She comes back…. Eventually! When she is ready to and not a second before. Dogs apparently have no concept of time- mine certainly don’t!
The first time she went missing she came back half an hour later looking for all the world as though she had been dipped in milk chocolate- she had fallen into a recently dug foundation trench that was half full of silty, slippy clay water. It dripped off her ears, eyelashes and whiskers- if I hadn’t been so worried about her I may have laughed- the two old boys who had come out to help me look for her certainly did- after I had bathed her I then spent an interesting hour cleaning the bathroom, the stairs carpet and walls.
Safi’s escapades are how MrP and I got together- she completely disappeared one Sunday afternoon in Filey and I didn’t get her back until the next day- with the help of a lovely woman called Lucy (who I have never got around to thanking properly) who works in a solicitors office in Filey and rang me to say that she had found Safi on a nature reserve- bless her she went back and got her in her Land rover – took her home- fed her and then took her into work with her, complete with one of her dogs bean bags so that I could go and collect her. I was so emotional and relieved I just managed a feeble “I don’t know how to thank you- you are an angel” and brought Safi home, touching her all the way to make sure she was real. MrP rang me to make sure I had found her and that we were both okay that night- then he phoned me the next night and the next… but that is a different tale.
This was only a minor escape by Safi standards. No bobbing head and lolling tongue for her- she is like a black streak across the fields- her feet barely seem to make contact with the ground. Shouting to her is pointless, you know that the wind is whistling past her ears and she wouldn’t hear you. About half an hour she was gone- it seems like days- fortunately we live in quite a rural area but your senses are heightened to every dog bark, car horn and siren in the distance. That awful pit of your stomach sickly feeling comes over you. Then after what seems like an eternity she trots back up the bridle path as though nothing had happened. I resolve to never let her off her lead again- I always do- until the next time when she gives me her well rehearsed RSPCA butter-wouldn’t-melt face and a crumble and let her off.
I could have done without it today “The Party” looms ever nearer and the ribbons for the Willy Wonka style oversized lollipops have arrived…