I have two particularly challenging  males in my household, both of whom seem to be suffering the teenage affliction of never listening or doing what is asked of them. Regarding one, the less said the better.

Regarding the other, I had forgotten what a challenging time it was having an under one year old dog. At the risk of showing off, Stig was definitely one of the stars at puppy obedience classes, to the point where it was hard not to come back rather smug each week, as he performed to perfection on command.

It’s a shame that this unquestioning willingness to please hasn’t continued.

My friend Lynne and I, having decided against a cycle ride in the rain took the dogs for a walk in the woods at Red Shoot, with the plan to finish with a warming bowl of soup afterwards…best laid plans and
all that.

Within half an hour of arriving, nattering nineteen to the dozen, having lots to catch up on we realised that we were missing one of our 4 dogs.

After tramping the length and breadth of the woods (at least 3 times), hoarse with calling and whistling, we returned to the pub to dry out and warm up. Half an hour later we were back out, still searching. Three hours and an extra dog who momentarily looked like Stig but wasn’t but who adopted us anyway, we still hadn’t found the wretched beast.

I returned to Fordingbridge to do an hour’s work and call the dog warden and check for messages on the ansaphone. No sign or sound of dog.

Back out to Red Shoot. No reports of missing dog at pub although someone might have seen a black dog that looked a bit like a great dane near Linford Bottom. Drive over there.. no dog of any description.

Back to pub, delayed a bit by dead cow in road just run over by wreckless driver. Still no dog. Now dark and late and definitely no voice left.

Back home to cook supper for family, too distracted and worried so totally incapable of cooking, send husband to get fish and chips (don’t whatever you do, however hungry, have fish and chips from the
chippy – expensively disgusting).

Phone rings, lady at pub says someone’s just spotted labrador down road who ran away when she tried to catch him. 2 chaps at pub gone to look for him.

Back to Red Shoot. No sign or sound of dog, chaps couldn’t find him. Retrace where he may have been seen -  about 3 miles from where lost him.

Call…and call…wait ….and wait…call again. Give up fumble in dark back to car, now truly worried, but trying to reassure myself it may be dark and wet but at least it’s not too cold. Suddenly the sound of thundering paws and Stig nearly knocks me off my feet in the sheer joy of finding his owner.

Lost dog found at exactly 8.30pm.

Retire home to a very large glass of wine, in the hopes that dog had frightened himself enough to learn his lesson. Following morning, owner heard calling and whistling for lost dog.