Walk in the woods
Originally uploaded by oiseau.
We set off on Sunday afternoon for a walk. I had spent the majority of the 4 day holiday being tired, ill and then tired again. This was the first time I perked up and declared it was time to get some fresh air.
We bounded off with this smelly dog and entered the woods next to the Frog Family Home. True to form, the dog disappeared and we got lost.
But it was a good kind of lost. We found WW1 craters, possible trenches and this magnificent memorial. Set up at the end of the 19th century it pays tribute to a young 18 year old hunter, accidentally shot dead. "Hunters Pray For Him".
This is still hunting territory and Frog Father and his pals still bound around here. Luckily we're out of season as Frog and I completely lost our way and ended up by the miramars set up high for hunters to look out for wild boar and the like. Hunting season is not so far away as the husks of corn that are scattered to lure the wild beasts can still be found on the ground.
Finding our way home again, we waited for the dog to come back a few hours later, as is his habit. Darkness fell, we went to bed and the next morning there was still no sign of the hound. As he's so old we had all been waiting for this day when he didn't come back.
I called from a meeting in Brussels this afternoon to check with Frog if there was still no sign. A negative reply and I consoled myself with the fact he must have run himself out, exhausted doing the one thing he loves. The 3 hour train ride was spent mentally composing a fitting blog obituary.
Back tonight from the station, 24 hours later and there as an apparition is an absolutely knackered, wheezing wreck of a dog. Curled up on his "sofa" in the yard, his little eyes peering out before snoozing off again.
It could be a couple of days before he raises his head again. Apparently that wouldn't be a first for him either. Rest well, Job.