Rigg the Pig

Today me and Whitevanwoman went to Pendragon Castle in Mallerstang to meet up with an old friend of Whitevanwoman. He’s called Nik and she knew him when they were students and hadn’t seen him for about 20 years. 20 years! That’s much longer than most dogs live for. I can’t imagine how long 20 years is.

Nik, his wife Danielle and their 3 daughters, Connie, Verity and Charlotte, were on holiday near where we live. They live in Norfolk which is further away from our kennel than I have ever been before, even further than Rotherham (where I went on my last trip and met Sophie the Slayer).

I definitely approve of Nik and his family, because they have a mongrel (german shepherd cross labrador) called Fritz – sadly he hadn’t come on holiday with them but apparently we look quite similar and I sussed straight away that they were dog people as they didn’t step away from me when I went bounding over to say hello but instead they bent down and gave me a pat and a stroke. I knew straightaway that I was going to have a fun day with them. And then, when Whitevanwoman got the tennis ball throwing stick out of the van to take with us, I was delighted!

We walked from Pendragon, past the field where Amy the goat lives, and past Biscuit and Greta’s kennel. Whitevanwoman and me stopped at the gate to their kennel to say hello – Greta wasn’t there but Biscuit came out barking away noisy as ever, with little Lachy the pup, to say hello. She was definitely pleased to see us and it was nice to see her again and I thought that’s what we were doing – going dog-sitting again, but we weren’t. Whitevanwoman gave Biscuit a quick fuss and then said that she would come and see her again soon. Then we all carried on past Biscuit’s kennel and turned onto the green lane, past the Giants Graves, and towards Lammerside Castle.

Once we were onto the green lane I was allowed off the lead and I ran around chasing my tennis ball with Connie, Verity and Charlotte using the throwing stick to throw it all over the place for me. It was great but I couldn’t keep it up for more than about half an hour so, after a while, I just trotted along with everyone carrying my tennis ball to give the girls a rest from throwing

From Lammerside we walked past Wharton Hall and then past the old Kirkby Stephen East railway station and then turned right and into Stenkrith Park, one of my favourite places. I led the way down to the spot where I usually jump off the rocks into the river and then I took everyone to the nice little spot on the river bank where there is a lovely little swimming pool ideal for tennis ball throwing and swimming.

We stopped there for some lunch (I didn’t get any lunch so I played swim fetch with the tennis ball instead) and we saw a pair of kingfisher. After lunch I took them across the Millenium Bridge and Whitevanwoman pointed out the Devil’s Mustard Pot and then we walked along the disused railway line to Podgill viaduct.

Here’s some photos of Whitevanwoman and Nigel doing some cleaning work at Podgill viaduct in 2006 – they had to abseil down and sweep the viaduct stones clean – I was there but had to stay on the lead in case I jumped off the viaduct after Whitevanwoman (I have been known to jump out of the upstairs bedroom window in my younger years).

Then we took the green lane to Nateby and after a half hour rest at the Black Bull, we headed back along the other side of Mallerstang Dale towards Pendragon where the white van was parked. There were lots of sheep around and sometimes I had to go on the lead but I didn’t mind too much as I was beginning to get a little tired from so much chasing tennisballs and swimming.

Whitevanwoman knows that I don’t take any notice of sheep, especially when there is a tennisball around, and so sometimes I could stay off the lead if I stayed close to her. She said that being on the lead was for my own good as sometimes farmers shoot dogs if they think they are chasing sheep and she didn’t want me to get shot because she couldn’t afford a vet’s bill. Charming! And there was I thinking she cared about me!

On the way back to Pendragon, we walked past Carr House. Whitevanwoman thinks it’s a real shame that it’s going to have to be knocked down and she thinks that sometimes people who make decisions, make very strange decisions for very strange reasons. Personally I think that all humans are like that – even Whitevanwoman – she does some very strange things for very strange reasons sometimes. We dogs are so much more logical and reasonable.

Just before we got back to the white van we saw a curlew and an oystercatcher in one of the buttercup meadows.

When we got back to our kennel I drank a whole bowl of water (it had been a really hot sunny day) and went to sleep for several hours. I was so tired that I didn’t even realise I was hungry! What a lovely day it was! Especially seeing as how it was Get Walking Day. I really enjoyed meeting Nik, Danielle, Connie, Verity and Charlotte and I hope that they will join my Facebook group “I’m mates with Rigg the Pig”.

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It’s me! Rigg the pig.

I’m back blogging again with my very own website now. It’s still early days yet as all this new-fangled software and webhosting stuff is a bit baffling for a beginner but if you stick with me, you can watch my new blog grow and develop and can keep up with my continuing adventures.

It’s a bit like training a new pup, in that when you start out, you’re not sure what you are going to end up with, and at first, every day you seem to realise how little you know and how much work, time and effort is going to be needed to produce something good. But I have determination and stamina, a sharp mind (and higher than the average dog’s  intelligence levels) and a willingness to work so I reckon I can rustle up a decent blog site given a bit of time.

Whitevanwoman calls this my “strong work ethic”. I think what she means is that I thrive on hard work, and am keen to please, so whatever I do, I do it with enthusiasm. She certainly gets plenty of hard work out of me; I fetch big sticks for the fire home from our walks, I then help her bring them in the house once she has cut them up to fit on the fire. I pull her uphill on the pink bike. I help her load and unload the white van by carrying things for her. I carry the tennis ball throwing stick on walks so save her having to do so. I keep her feet warm in bed at night. I lie against the door and do “draught excluder” duty. I sit for hours on the coal bunker on sentry duty. I alert her loudly to anyone daring to walk past our yard gates. I get on well with the neighbours and small children. I travel well, and am happy to sleep outside in the white van if people don’t want me in their kennel. I only chase cats I don’t know and allow Miss Tibby to share my bed. Needless to say, I have a never-ending supply of hugs, cuddles and kisses for the person who feeds me.

So what more could a person want from a dog? Considering I was a freebie, Whitevanwoman got a good deal when she got me. It does no harm to keep reminding her of that every now and again.

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Last weekend me and Whitevanwoman went to Rotherham to stay with Purple Paula and Husband Haydn and Sophie the Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Paula had already warned Whitevanwoman that Sophie didn’t like other dogs and wasn’t very nice to them but Whitevanwoman thought that maybe she might like me because I don’t like fighting and run away from unfriendly dogs. When we got there, me and Whitevanwoman went with Purple Paula and Sophie across the road to the grassy area over the road so that we could see whether me and Sophie could be friends before we went into Purple Paula’s kennel.

Unfortunately Sophie was very determined that she was not going to be friends and even though I was lying down nicely, carefully not looking at Sophie so that she didn’t think I was challenging her, she was determined to kill me. Or at least to try very hard to kill me. I was really trusting Whitevanwoman to not let Sophie hurt me, and Purple Paula had to hang on to Sophie’s lead for grim death otherwise she would have had me, despite the fact that she is less than half my size (although what she lacks in size, she makes up for in muscle, and she is nearly the same weight as me). Despite her fury, I couldn’t help but admire those muscles and that determination. It was at that moment that I found myself referring to her as “Sophie the Slayer

Whitevanwoman had thought that maybe Sophie would tire herself out after a few minutes of such dedicated aggression but no chance! She kept it up for over 5 mins and eventually Purple Paula and Whitevanwoman agreed that me and Sophie would need to be kept in separate rooms. I hadn’t batted an eyelid whilst Sophie was having her tantrum  – I knew that there was no chance I was going to even try to take her on, and was quite happy for Sophie to be top dog. I was kind of hoping that by being very good and allowing her to be top dog, she would have accepted me and would have been friends but sadly it was not to be

But despite the Slayer’s best efforts to get at me whilst we were staying in Paula’s kennel, Whitevanwoman made sure she couldn’t get at me and I was quite happy to stay in the white van where I knew I was safe. Sometimes Sophie got shut in Purple Paula’s bedroom so I could have a potter around the Paula’s kennel and yard – ha! She obviously hasn’t yet realized that sometimes being badly behaved means that bad things happen, like being shut up in a room out of the way. Whitevanwoman helped explain how dogs think to Purple Paula and Haydn and they realized that Sophie had been getting a bit too big for her own boots and that it was time for a “training programme”. Ha! I wouldn’t like to be in Sophie’s shoes now – she is going to be learning some hard lessons I think! Like the fact that chasing her tail round in circles all the time means that she will get put on a short lead so she can’t move. I reckon she is going to learn how to behave pretty sharpish.

Whitevanwoman really liked Sophie despite her behaviour and her neuroses – she said that Sophie is a clever friendly dog who could learn new rules quite quickly. I was going to remind her that it says in her dog breed book that Staffies are an intelligent breed but I heard her saying that to Purple Paula and Haydn so I think she knows. She explained to them that I consider myself to be 3 times as intelligent as a “breed” dog, as I have the intelligence of 3 different breeds (Border Collie, Labrador and Staffie) in me, all of which are classed as intelligent breeds. I think Paula and Haydn were very impressed with my cleverness at falling down dead when Whitevanwoman shot me (she points her fingers at me like a gun, says “Bang, you’re dead”, and I lie down and roll over onto my back). Everyone always likes it when we do that but sometimes I forget to stop wagging my tail when I am pretending to be dead.

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Today Whitevanwoman did a very very good thing. She demolished my kennel.

She said it was old and rotten and took up too much room in the yard so it had to go. I couldn’t believe my luck! I think she had a moment of madness, to be honest, forgetting that my kennel is the equivalent of the human “naughty step”. It wasn’t until after it was all in bits that she realized that there’s nowhere to send me now, when I’m in trouble. Ha, ha!

Sometimes I do get put in the white van if I’ve been naughty. Like last week at Ladthwaite when I had a bit of a grumble at Pippa because she was getting in the way and I thought she was trying to steal my pink ring and also because Flash was having a grumble at her too. Whitevanwoman got cross with both me and Flash and put me in the white van and Flash in the washing shed for half an hour whilst we thought about what we had done

I hate being banished – it’s the worst thing in the world. I hate being separated from Whitevanwoman knowing that she is cross with me. I am always hugely apologetic when I know I’m in trouble and I usually put myself in my kennel before she even sends me there, just to show her how remorseful I am. I usually have to stay in exile for an hour or so depending on how naughty I have been, and when I am allowed back into her presence, she usually then ignores me for quite a while afterwards, just to make it very clear that I have to earn her praise and cuddles through good behaviour.

Whitevanwoman had my old kennel for a long time – in fact it was older than me. Before I was even a sly gleam in my sheepdog dad’s eye, my kennel was in use. But it used to be a duck house before it was my kennel. It only became my kennel when we moved to where we are living now and I used to stay outside a lot (because I learned how to open the fridge and used to go on regular food hunts when I was left in the house)

Here’s an old pic of me sharing my kennel with Pippa, way back in 2004, not long after we first met.

sharing my (now deceased) kennel with Pippa

When we lived at Newton Rigg (before I was born) and Whitevanwoman was training Sheepdog Penny to be a sheepdog, she started teaching Penny with ducks before she started training with real sheep. This was because ducks flock together the same as sheep do and it is a good way to start sheepdog training as sometimes young sheepdogs can get a bit silly when they first see sheep. If the shepherd has already taught the sheepdog how to stop, come by (go right) and go away (go left) before the sheepdog has ever seen some sheep, it makes it easier to teach the sheepdog to work with real sheep.

Some types of duck are better than others for being herded by sheepdogs, and the Indian Runner Duck, also known as the Cumberland Duck, is one of the best types. They are funny looking creatures, standing up long and tall and running around ever so quickly looking like they are about to fall over (ducks are very stupid and get frightened and panicky very easily). You can find out more about Indian Runner ducks here…  and here…

When we moved here, the duckhouse became my kennel and although it has been my place of exile on occasion, I have never minded being in my kennel. Here I am when I was just a youngster about 5 years ago, happily playing in my kennel with one of my favourite toys, my toy tongue, and the toilet ballcock toy (that was one of Lanky’s favourite toys – he brought it to Cumbria from Lancashire and it lasted for a long long time after this photo was taken)

In my kennel with one of my favourite all time toys - my tongue

But I shan’t mourn the passing of the kennel and all it stands for. I just wonder what Whitevanwoman will do next time I don’t behave…

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Although me and Whitevanwoman had a lovely time at Ladthwaite with Dynamite, Flash and Velvet the pony, it was so good to get home last night. As soon as we got home, I went to my bed for a sleep. Whitevanwoman had to wake me up for my dinner and after dinner I went back to bed and slept for hours. Even having Miss Tibby climbing all over me purring and cuddling didn’t disturb me. I think she had missed us and was really pleased to have us back.

Here’s Miss Tibby trying to wake me up to say hello last night

wake up and play with me, I've missed you...

 And here she is cuddling up with me (I slept through it all

I missed you, I'm glad you're back

It’s so nice to have Whitevanwoman all to myself again – although I didn’t mind too much having to share her with Dynamite and Flash, and it was great to have canine company for the week, it is definitely better to be on my own again with her in our own kennel. It’s definitely made me wonder whether I would want her to get another puppy as she is talking about possibly getting another puppy in the autumn. Don’t get me wrong, I would welcome a pup with open paws and it would definitely make life in our kennel more interesting but sometimes having a nice quiet easy life is not to be sniffed at. On the plus side, having a naughty puppy around would make Whitevanwoman realise just how good I am (apart from my food foraging activities and the odd escapade and adventure).

Actually, I’m quite proud of her for sticking to her principles and putting me first. She said that a few days ago someone told her about a collie puppy which was free to a good home. She said that she had been tempted for a minute or two but had then hardened her heart and had said no, because she had promised to spend the summer with me on my own. Everyone knows what a softie Whitevanwoman is with animals, especially when someone says “It needs a home” but Whitevanwoman said that sometimes giving an animal a home isn’t always the best thing for the animal or for the home and that people have to think carefully beforehand. I agree with her but I must say I’m awfully glad that she didn’t think too hard when Nicola (from the stables at Newton Rigg) asked her if she knew anyone who would give a home to a Collie cross puppy (me), about 6 years ago. Whitevanwoman was curious to see what a Collie cross Staffordshire Bull Terrier puppy would look like so she came to see me and I ended up going home with her.

Here’s some photos of me as a puppy – it’s no wonder she couldn’t resist taking me home, I was very cute…

I would like to take the opportunity to point out that I have always had a white goatee as you can see in the above puppy photo and it is not a sign of impending old age, Dave (Pippa and Mil’s owner) told Whitevanwoman a few days ago that I was going grey. Huh! How dare he! I’m very proud of my white goatee – it’s a sign of my collie ancestry, along with my white tip toes and white chest markings.

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We are still here and we are both loving it here. I’m in my element – 4 or 5 off-the-lead walks each day with Dynamite and Flash for company and to play with (although Dynamite doesn’t play much, she just trots along at her own pace, because she is 12 and can’t be bothered playing any more). I think Whitevanwoman is in her element too – she says that dogs, ponies and wellies are 3 of her most favourite things (after chocolate).

When we go for our walks I usually take my pink ring and Whitevanwoman usually takes her camera…

just off for a little walk

Most of the time Flash chases me trying to get the pink ring but if I drop it, she just watches it as if it’s going to get up and run away by itself.                         

That’s Border Collies for you – they do get a bit obsessive sometimes – a bit like Whitevanwoman. Me, I only get obsessive about food, but that’s survival of the fittest.

Sometimes I let Flash play “pull” with me and the pink ring but I always win because although she does hang on for quite a while, my strength, stamina and determination to win are too much for her and she gives up.

letting Flash have a go with my pink ring

Sometimes when we go for walks I bring back sticks for Whitevanwoman’s fire. I’m very helpful like that. Whitevanwoman says I’m especially useful at the moment because she has got a sore shoulder and can’t fetch sticks herself, so I’m glad she appreciates my efforts. Today we found the best stick pile I’ve ever seen – it was stick heaven!

Here I am – King of the sticks!

King of the sticks

And here I am with today’s stick and with the firewood pile I’ve amassed since we’ve been here at Ladthwaite…

Whitevanwoman was pleased with herself today because she finally managed to get a photo of the woodpecker. It comes every day but it’s very shy and she hadn’t been able to get any photos of it but she sat outside quietly for ages (we dogs had to stay inside because it always flies away when it sees us) waiting for it to come and finally it did…

She also got a photo of one of the male pheasants which comes to visit – they usually run away when people or dogs are around. I can’t say I blame them – usually people want to shoot pheasants, and dogs want to chase them so that the people can shoot them. I think I would run away too in those circumstances.

The only not-so-good thing about being here at Ladthwaite is that I have to sleep outside in the washing shed with Flash and Dynamite. I’m not bothered about being cold (I’m a hot-blooded creature and the cold doesn’t bother me at all) – what I don’t like is not being with Whitevanwoman at night time. I’ve always thought that she really needs me to keep her feet warm during the night but she says that the kennel rules here at Ladthwaite are that dogs are not allowed upstairs and they have to sleep in the washing shed at night and so we have to respect the kennel rules. I don’t think she’s missing me all that much though because she has got a hot water bottle and woolly bedsocks but I miss her and I bark and bark when the light in her room goes out but she never comes back till the morning.

Last night I thoroughly investigated the washing shed to make sure that there was no possible means of escape – I didn’t realise that Whitevanwoman would see my footprints on the top of the washing machine and workbench and would know what I’d been up to. She had a bit of a grumble at me this morning when she noticed my pawprints everywhere and then she had an even bigger grumble when she noticed that I’d done a taste test on the washing powder and had had a bit of a chew of the washing powder box. She said that it serves me right if I get sick. Charming! I was just satisfying my natural curiosity.

Here’s Dynamite lying in the sun whilst me and Flash played in the beck this afternoon (notice her green Search Dog tag – sigh, I should have had one of those…)

And here’s Velvet who also lives here at Ladthwaite…

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…is great! I’ve been having loads of fun, running round the fields with Search Dogs Dynamite and Flash and going for lots of walks. With fields to run in, friends to play with and a stream to cool off in, what more could a dog want (except for a larger dinner bowl)?

Me and Whitevanwoman are house and dog and cat and pony-sitting this week while Dave and Anette are on holiday and so we have been staying at Ladthwaite since Saturday and are here till next Saturday. We both know Dynamite and Flash really well – Flash and I have known each other nearly all our lives. I’m a year older than she is and I first met her and her sister Lola (who is the first ever Manx Search Dog with handler Matt) when they were just puppies. Flash was a trainee Search Dog at the same time as I was and she is now a graded Search Dog, like Dynamite who is 12 and is a very experienced Search Dog and who has found lots of people over the years. Flash has found 2 people already in her Search Dog career.

The best way to keep my pink ring safe from Flash is to wear it

Here at Ladthwaite there are pheasants and red squirrels I could chase if I want but I don’t chase them because I know Whitevanwoman would be cross if I did, so I just pretend I haven’t seen them. They usually run away when they see me anyway, but then that’s the fun of chasing. But to be honest I’d rather play with a person who throws my pink ring or tennisball, or who kicks my football.

Ha, ha! Yesterday Whitevanwoman shouted and had a grumble at Dynamite and Flash for chasing the red squirrel but I didn’t chase it so I didn’t get into trouble. Ha, ha!

Whitevanwoman has been watching the red squirrel through the kitchen window – here’s some photos of him

He’s quite a cheeky little chap, but he can run faster than Dynamite and Flash. I’m sure he was sitting up in the tree today teasing them (dogs can’t climb trees – I’ve tried and given up, and apparently so had Lanky; he used to chase the grey squirrels in Queen’s Park and used to try to climb the trees after them.

Today we went back to Whitevanwoman’s kennel to see Miss Tibby and make sure that she was ok. She was fine – she seemed pleased to see us at first but then disappeared off again after an hour. I think Whitevanwoman was hoping that SidPuss might have reappeared but he hadn’t and I think she knows deep down inside that he isn’t going to come back now. It’s nearly 4 weeks since he disappeared.

I had a couple of hours kip in my own bed which was nice – you don’t realise how much you miss things until they aren’t there. Whitevanwoman had a little “moment” thinking about Lanky – he would have been 15 today. Whitevanwoman never knew exactly what day he was born on but it was around the beginning of May 1994 so she always celebrated Lanky’s birthday on May Day.

Whitevanwoman got Lanky on her 26^th birthday when he was about 9 weeks old – she says she can still remember it like it was yesterday. She had been visiting Lancashire (where she used to live) and driving through a village called Wheelton when she saw a sign at the top of a farm track saying “Sheepdog Pups For Sale”. She had no intention of getting a dog but went to see the pups on impulse. There were only 2 puppies left, one of which was Lanky who was very cheeky and confident, and another much quieter puppy who was much more timid.

The farmer told her that because Lanky was nearly all white, he would not be able to work as a sheepdog because the sheep wouldn’t realise he was a dog and would think he was another sheep and so he would have to be a pet dog. He said it was a shame as Lanky’s mum was the best sheepdog he had ever had and that he was sure that Lanky would have been a good sheepdog if he had not been white and that he had alot of character. Whitevanwoman said that she didn’t care what colour he was (although she has since said that she is never getting another white dog because she could never wear black clothes when Lanky was around) because she liked his character. She even knew what his name was going to be before they left the farm – she called him Lanky because he came from Lancashire.

So Lanky went to live with Whitevanwoman (although she wasn’t Whitevanwoman in those days – they used to travel round in Margot l’escargot, but that’s another story…) near London. They only stayed there for about another 6 months before they moved back to Lancashire and went to live not very far from the farm where Lanky had been born. And there they had lots of adventures together and I will tell you more stories about the adventures of Whitevanwoman and Lanky the wrong coloured sheepdog when she tells them to me.

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