AUGUST - "This infant dog, folded in honeyed fur..."

SUCCESSOR by MARGARET RHODES

This infant dog, folded in honeyed fur,

Folded in sleep, paws bunched across her nose,

Artlessly sprawls before the winter fire

And nuzzles close to us who are her world.

Twitching in dreams she lives again the chase,

Her tawny body hurled

Hilariously across the wind-wracked shore;

In dreams scuds after gulls through spume and foam

Of teasing tides; perhaps again she hears

The thin lost cries of sandpipers in her ears.

In sleep she stretches, yawns, begins to stir,

The stares with topaz eyes as if she saw

The dog who lay last winter in her place.

She stares and inches close

And offers us a guileless trusting paw,

Claiming us for her own - this dog we chose

To turn a house once more into a home.

 

A slightly different blog for August! I apologise for the lateness.

At the beginning of the month, we visited the John o' Groats working mill. While the others did the tour, I sat outside in the sunshine and listened and took photographs on my phone.

I had a lovely time and a kind volunteer at the mill came out occasionally to point out bird activity and unusual wildflowers.  The mill had belonged to the Houston family since 1750, was rebuilt in 1901 and beautifully restored in 2024. Very impressive!

Mauve and white thistles at John o' Groats working mill

Speaks for itself!

John o' Groats working mill

Blue view from the mill

The next day had its drama! On the way home from the art exhibition in Thurso, Ginny, Judith and Clemency found a three week old hedgehog lost alone on our hill. They rang the animal rescue centre in Brora and were told to take the little one in as soon as possible. On arrival, Baby Hedgehog was assessed. It was discovered that Baby was a female and, unless she had received immediate care and treatment, would certainly have died. We named her Henrietta and are delighted with her updates.

Henrietta the Lucky Hedgehog

At the end of the first week of August, we had a poorly chicken and a new puppy.  Drusilla, one of Clemency's Light Sussexes, rallied quickly and, by the time she was checked out by the vet, she was behaving normally - for a chicken!

Scruff, the Border Terrier, born on 6th June, does not appear normal however!

He is adorable and wants to please so much but he can't control his affections - he loves us and wants to eat us!  We've worked out that he is less likely to obey his commands when he is tired but, when he's tired, he won't go to sleep in his crate and actually fights tiredness so that he can come out and take another bite!!

On the plus side, he has learned his name, Scruff and Scruffy, to sit, to leave, to drop, and "down". He's also sort of learned "stay" but this last one has a time limit and, if he sees a better offer, he's off like a shot!

We haven't cracked the toilet training yet but he still has to have his second injection before he can go out for walks. Once he's walking out, it should be easier to see a pattern in his behaviour. 

Scruff the Border Terrier

Before Dad established his own Farm Produce business, he worked for George Tune and then George Lindley. The Lindleys had a corgi named Paddy and sometimes we looked after Paddy while the Lindleys were away. Then, of course, I was smitten, and I really wanted a dog of our own. Eventually we got one. Mum wasn't terribly happy about it!

Sadly, Rusty, our chocolate labrador, didn't live long.

My grandparents had Lassie but she died when Granny was ill in hospital. Lassie had been poorly through Granny's illness and she died as Granny was recovering from an operation.

Rusty, my brother, Michael, and cousin, Ian, with yours truly, in the yard at Aston House, Epworth, Summer 1963

Lassie, Auntie Gwen, and me in the garden at Rose Cottage, Belshaw Lane, Belton, 1954

I never had another dog until we took home Orlando John the Rebel from John o' Groats.  Yes - that was the full name we gave him! His mummy, Emmy, was a cocker and daddy, Jasper, was a springer, making Orlando a sprocker.

That was thirteen years ago.

Yesterday, 5th September,  our lovely vet came out to Stempster House and helped Orlando slip away from this world into his doggy heaven. He had suffered too much recently and he chose his own time to go. Lydia, Euan, Auri and Elfi were on their way here from Ross-shire, knowing that Orlando was ill but not expecting his sudden deterioration. After a good start to his day, his breathing problems manifested themselves significantly. I think he wanted to see them one last time and I think he wanted us to have them here with us.

Alexander was with us through Orlando's puppy days and formative years and Orlando had spent time with him this summer. Both Alex and Orlando knew those special days would be their last together. 

Orlando was ready to go.

The vet was compassion itself - with Orlando, with Jessie, our cocker spaniel, and with all the family.

 Little Scruff was quite oblivious! As Lydia, Euan, Auri and Elfi were driving home they saw rainbows. What better message from heaven?

Orlando in the garden (June 2026)

Orlando helping out with the Christmas decorations (December 2025)

The "Glorious Twelfth" (but not if you're a grouse!) coincided with the eclipse - and the world of nature was aware!

We had a visit - not from just one opportunistic willow warbler - but from the entire willow warbler family.  The bee activity was intense around the beehive and a family of thrushes came into the cottage garden. This is the first time they've had a successful breeding year since we came. Once, Jess ate the baby. At other times, they simply disappeared.  But this year, at the eclipse, they made sure we knew they'd done well. One of them - the mature male I suppose - had an incredible yellow breast with arty splodges.

We ate our tea outside at the exact time of the eclipse and there was dead silence - no bird sound, a darkening sky and such a heavenly stillness to everything. And soup!

The moment of the eclipse

The next morning, I was writing in my diary at about seven o' clock - twelve hours after the eclipse - when I realised there was the same sort of feeling outside. Everything became still for a moment. The sky darkened a little. I neither saw nor heard any bird activity. Is this a thing? Or just coincidence? 

Later that day, we had a mini-monsoon. I imagined what it might be like in the tropics. I knew a lady who lived in Singapore and she told me that, at four in the afternoon, she could set her watch by the exact moment the rains came down.

Throughout August, I have seen signs of Summer reaching for the snooze button.

After watching the blackbirds feasting in the mountain ash/rowan trees and swallows lining up for pack drill on the telephone wires, one evening I noticed the moon was butterscotch. It was a misty, magical evening and was followed by a lovely pastel start to the next day.

There's much to do in the garden in preparation for autumn. Much to celebrate too!

"People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us." (Iris Murdoch)

In August, Crowvus published a little book, "Child At The Pantry Door", in which I have discussed some of my foodie memories, as well as more recent concoctions!  I took a few photos to illustrate the book too. It's something the family have asked me to do for while - and I resisted until recently. If you are interested in reading "Child At The Pantry Door", it is available here on Amazon for £7.99.