Rescue Dogs.

We've had lots of fun and excitement today. No blizzards though, so the Rescue Dogs in question weren't St. Bernards.

Fortunately, perhaps.

But let us begin at the beginning.......

This morning Jackie's friend Nicola popped over from Ware for tea and cake and a chinwag. I eschewed the cake, caught up with some of the gossip, then accompanied the girls to the lock where they left me to fish out more timber salvage and went off for a walk.

By the time they got back I had had it away on my toes with another large barrowful of logs etc which will eventually dry out enough for the woodburner. I'd also emptied the Diesel tank, (which now resides in our car park as it is currently selling on ebay) of the spilt diesel and rainwater that had collected over the years between the double-bunded skins. I undid the drain plug and drew off about 6 litres of filthy, contaminated and unusable gunk. Blechh!! Straight on the bonfire!

Jackie and Nicola then returned, having chatted-up a polo playing land-owner in a neighbouring field, and seen a couple of apparently stray dogs digging for rabbits near the pumping station. They looked quite happy, if collarless and filthy dirty, but Jackie was concerned. She rang the council first:

"Not our problem. Ring the police".

She rang the local nick in Histon:

"Stray dogs are the Council's problem, ring them".

Rather than getting cross, which is what I probably would have done, Jackie broke out of the bureaucratic Mobius Strip by ringing the vets who have looked after Tom Kitten.

Hollyoaks Veterinary surgery are fab. They said it was a Police matter, but as the police round here couldn't catch a cold, never mind a stray dog, they'd come out and help.

One of the vets soon arrived, accompanied by a veterinary nurse. With Jackie's help, the dogs were found. They were very friendly, well behaved and not at all aggressive. Despite having just managed to get hold of one of the rabbits they'd spent five hours digging for, they happily responded to a kindly "Here, boy" and proffered treat, and were soon safely collared and on the lead.

Under the caked-on mud, it soon became apparent that they weren't any old Canis Mongrelis. The larger one was a labrador/poodle cross, (are they really called 'labradoodles'?), the other a Springer spaniel. Thoughts turned to the likelihood of them having been stolen for the awful business of Fighting Dog practice, or perhaps more simply for re-sale. In short, were they micro-chipped? The vets took them back to the surgery for a hot bath, thorough MOT, some much needed food and a once-over with the microchip reader.

And where was I while all this excitement was occuring?

Emmaus, natch.

(Actually I was doing our landlord a favour by taking some unwanted items up there, okay? The fact that I came away with another toolbox, for Jackie this time, and a rather super socket set, and all for a fiver, has absolutely nothing to do with it, alright?)

On returning to "Pippin", I was being regaled with the story when the vet rang to say neither dog had a chip.

A mystery then, and sad to think there will be no joyful reunion with their rightful owners.

However, both hounds are safe, and, apart from each having a galloping case of worms, seem none the worse for their adventures. Indeed, Jackie likened them to the dogs in the film 'Dean Spanley', as they seemed to be having so much fun digging for rabbits. (Though if you know the film, you'll know 'our' dogs denouement was a far happier one....).

They are both now residing at the Wood Green Animal Shelter in Godmanchester.

Although if it hadn't been for the likely objections of a certain Ship's Cat, they might well have both been safely aboard The Mighty Pippin by now............