Wendover, Grand Union Canal

We had to move from our old parking spot in Berkhamsted. Dad said that shopping in White Rose was costing him more arms and legs than he was happy to part with.
I personally think that it was the price of his bottles of beer that clinched it, because their two for the price of three offer didn't quite meet his daily needs.

So I gave the local rabbits their early morning exercise over on the Park, ducked the geese, goosed the ducks, and, with a heaviness of heart, I left my final pee-mails along the towpath, and we were off to pastures new. 'Beau has left the building!!', ...and I can only hope that another of my kind will pass this way to keep the local rabbits on their toes............

We travelled about 7 miles which took most of the day....the boat doesn't go very fast, and if  Dad pushes the white lever thingy on the side, the boat gets louder, rattles a lot, and makes more smoke, but we still don't seem to go any faster......in fact we got passed by the same group of grey-haired old ladies twice yesterday; once on their way, and again on their way back!

We came to a junction and turned left into a very narrow bit of water, Dad said its called an 'arm', but it looks like a ditch. Anyway, after about a mile we came to a dead end and had to turn around and we still hadn't found a place to park. On the way back down the ditch, we finally managed to find a place under some trees, and something to tie the boat to.

Tomorrow we're going exploring, hopefully to find a suitable place to play football. In the meantime, Dad's taken a couple of pictures of me 'doing my thing', I particularly like the first one where I took the ball on the half-volley and headed it straight past the keeper ......straight into the canal.
My 'ball-girl' (Mum) had to go over the bridge to pick it up. .....Sad, but if they bought me a proper set of goalposts, I could practice this sort of thing more often.......Enjoy...................

xx Beau

Berkhamsted, Grand Union Canal

Last time we were here, it rained and rained.......we've been all the way into London and back out, and now that we're back here.....its still raining!!

The plague of flying Pekinese seems to be over. It's either because the wind has dropped, or because Rosie the Rotty, (who bequeathed me her football), has given up being a Veggie.

The football practice is still going well, Dads dribbling is pretty much as it was, but I might have to give up heading the ball, because I looked in the mirror the other day and I'm sure my neck is getting shorter. We saw a bulldog a couple of days ago and Mum said that's what I'll look like if I don't take it easy.

During my observations of the people using the towpath round here, I've noticed that an awful lot of people are going along talking to themselves. They're waving their arms about, laughing, saying things like 'No waaaay! and 'You dint!!, and 'OK, laters man!!.....
Anyway, whatevvaa.......
Mum says that they're probably using 'hands free', but there's far too much arm action for that to be true, or, she said, they might be using an 'eye-phone', but I'm not sure that they could talk and see at the same time if they were using something like that.
I'm trusting my sheepdog intuition here, and coming down on the side that says that Berkhamsted has a lot of people who are lonely, and who use the towpath as a form of therapy. I, myself have been known to mutter to myself quite a bit when Dad isn't operating on my frequency...................

Well, the sun has finally come out for a few minutes, so, despite the risks of becoming bulldog-like, I'm going to stare at Dad to see if he can work out what my 'eye-phone' is saying...................


xx Laters, man

Beau

 

Hemel Hempstead, Grand Union Canal

Dads parked the boat near to some grassland that looks like it might be suitable for a game of football, though getting him off the boat might be a bit difficult as there isn't a pub nearby, and tempting him with a doggy treat doesn't seem to work as well on him as it does on me.............

I've been watching the goings-on, taking place on the nice smooth bit of grass on the other side of the water, for some time now, and although we are supposed to be in the 21st Century, this place still seems to be carrying on some form of ancient punishment.

Just after lunch, loads of men, all dressed in white, came out of a wooden shed on the edge of the grass, and made a circle in the middle. Shortly after, another man came out and had to stand in front of some sticks that were stuck in the ground. He didn't seem to be very happy, because he kept on looking around at all the others that were in the circle. I guess he'd done something really bad, because a big tall chap ran towards the circle and threw a ball as hard as he could at the man by the sticks who only had a small piece of wood to protect himself with.
He managed to dodge a couple of the throws, but eventually one hit him really hard on the leg and everybody cheered, then they stopped cheering because one of the men, who was wearing three jumpers and a coat because he was cold, said that the ball hadn't hit him hard enough and he would have to stay.

One of the balls that was thrown at him hit his bit of wood and he tried to make a dash for the wooden hut, but the men in the circle came in closer and threw the ball at him to make him stop. Then the inevitable happened; one ball hit his leg really hard and broke the sticks. Everybody cheered and didn't seem sorry that the man had been hurt and could hardly walk back to the shed.
I guess it was because they were looking forward to throwing balls at the next victim who was just coming into the circle with his bit of wood.

I expect thay all thought that they were really hard men, throwing balls for two hours, at defenceless individuals who weren't allowed to move. Anyway, they weren't that tough, because as soon as it started to spit with rain, they all ran indoors and didn't come out again. A pity really, because I would have like to see how they liked it if they were the ones who had to stand by the sticks.

They say that football is a rough game,...... but this type of ancient punishment just isn't cricket!

The sooner we get away from here the better, I reckon.......

xx Beau

Cassiobury Park, Grand Union Canal

Sadly, we have had to leave my favourite parking place at Rickmansworth, because Dad says we have to carry on adventuring. (I think that it is more the call of the Three Horseshoes at Winkwell, rather than the call of the open road as they say)...............but these are the mere musings of a cynical Collie with too much time on his paws.

I was just getting to know the dog from the boat in front of us as well. She was really good-looking in a Collie-cross sort of way, and I was looking forward to staying around her for a while. Anyway, we left early in the morning, so all I could do was leave her a quick p-mail and hope that she got the message.

So three hours later we parked near some woodland where I'd been before, and would you believe it, within an hour, her boat had parked behind us and she came trotting up the tow-path!!
Just goes to show that I've still got what it takes.....not many dogs would walk 4 miles up the towpath just to be with their BEAU........get it?

Got to go and brush away the dust of travel now.....

xx Beau

p.s.
I've got followers all over the world now, and I would love to read your comments on my stories. xx B

pps
Just couldn't resist chewing on this old bit of leftover dachshund.

Rickmansworth, Grand Union Canal

We're back at one of my favourite places, and the scene of a recent triumph in the parade ring (see my post 19.05.2013)
Of course its quieter now with all of the Festival people out of the way, and I'm not into all that fame and fortune stuff really....

We've been back a few days now and I've met a couple of pals who, like me, like to run around and have a good time. With geese, ducks and swans in abundance, there is sport to be had for the more adventurous dogs.
Today I was playing with Woody, the Lurcher, and Boo-Boo, the Greyhound, and we had a great time tearing around on the grass seeing who could take corners the fastest.
The race seemed to worry some of the owners of smaller dogs who picked them up and clutched them tightly in case they got run over......of course there are always one or two that aren't quick enough, but they don't get badly hurt, and most of them are normally up and about again within a few minutes.

Dad calls it 'Collie-lateral damage', or something like that........

Anyway, it seems that we are going to stay here for a few more days yet to keep the geese in line, and whip the slower dogs into shape. One way or another, they're certainly going to know that Beau has been here......

xx Beau

Denham Park, Grand Union Canal

So, the tales of my bravery on Hackney Marshes have gone far and wide, to the extent that we've had to leave the area.
After saving the man from getting dragged into the air, and probably killed, every time I went out onto the football pitches to play ball, people with kites ran towards me shouting 'There he is...that's the one!!... and we had to run back to the boat.
Honestly, fame and fortune is OK but sometimes you just want a bit of peace and quiet to play football, and I know that if I don't get Dad off the boat a couple of times a day, he'll seize up and won't be able to keep up with me.
We went all round London and couldn't find a decent place to park that had a Park as good as Hackney, so we've headed Northwards again and found a nice place with woods and grass and loads of dogs going past, so with a bit of luck I'll be able to go out again without having to disguise myself from the persuing pack of admirers...............

xx Beau