There’s a Jack in the House!

A much better start to the day with the weather which gradually got better and better until by lunchtime we had stripped the van, sorted and cleaned it - (anyone who does what we do, knows that has to be done regularly or you can quickly lose control) - we were able to do our clothes at the laundry area - very modern indeed - I dried one load in their tumble dryer and put the rest on our washing line which dried brilliantly. (11€ in total). Alan got the chairs out and we quickly descended into the agreement that we would have a very lazy day indeed (as far as walking was concerned anyway). So I managed to cook us a lovely lunch of bacon, onions and potatoes served with a rather mean ratatouille - the garlic will last on our breath for several days yet I’m sure. We have the makings of bread and cheese for supper washed down a rather lovely merlot and a beer for Alan so, stay put we did.

Now, the purpose of this blog was to keep family and friends in touch with our travels, putting everything in one place so we didn’t have to keep repeating our journey in different places. So far, so good. The other reason was to share a blog of our travels for those who have motorhomes or caravans and may not have undertaken this kind of trip before - like us - complete greenhorns and maybe to help with relevant information along the way. Just sharing our experiences, good and bad. Anyway, when we stay over for a few nights, the chances are this could get a bit boring and, goodness knows, I don’t want to send you to sleep just yet.

So, I’ve told you the story of how Tom came into our lives and have touched on the sad loss of our Jack. So thought I would share a few of his escapades over the years, and there have been many, starting with how we got to have him in our lives. I got Jack in early Spring after having had Tom for a few months. As with most things that happen in my life, this was not intentional. I had been to the postbox in town and spotted a gorgeous little Jack Russell on the end of piece of string, and on the other end of this string was an older lady with long grey hair and she was in the process of dragging on a fag - just sitting having a coffee - this was a pavement cafe so they were outside and on my route. I just said “Oh, can I give your Jack Russell a little cuddle please?” and without drawing breath she said “You can ‘ave ‘im if you like”. I said “You’re joking!” Well the conversation continued and it appeared this lady’s daughter had always wanted a dog, eventually wore them down and they got this little puppy. The daughter then got a place at college and mother was landed with the dog. He was around 22 weeks old at this point and wasn’t even house trained. The top and bottom of it all was, I paid the family what they wanted for him, and he came home to the cottage with me - I had all his papers and a document signed by his previous owner to say he was ours. He was microchipped and we were ready to go. Alan asked me what he was called and I revealed his name was Jezza! (The previous owner was a fan of Jeremy Kyle). Well, apparently my dear husband does not mind what waifs and strays I bring home. But he does mind what they’re called. So, as Tom was named after my dearly departed Dad, we called Jezza ‘Jack’ - the name of another dearly departed family friend. The boys got on well and seemed to enjoy each other’s company and soon settled into their new way of life. Not long after, one morning - I was all dressed up and ready to go out. Alan was away on a job up country which was very normal in those days. I’d taken the dogs for their walk, and was looking to put them in the house when I couldn’t find Jack. Now, the cottage was situated in a valley where three roads and two rivers meet and our house sat on the joint of those two rivers where they became one - the River Fal. So, I was calling Jack - in the end I was calling Jezza too in desperation- I was becoming quite frantic. Luckily, I judged the direction to search correctly and went out into the road and looked over each of the bridges into the river when I heard a plaintiff howl - it was Jack, thank God - the poor little mite had found his way onto the river bank. He must have missed his footing and was in the fast flowing Fal - the only saving grace was he had his front leg jammed in the weeds on the riverbank and was not going anywhere just yet. Well, I’m very proud of myself because I was like Harrison Ford in Raiders of the Lost Ark (well .......ish). I couldn’t get to Jack from where I was, but I could get through a horizontal metal pole fixed to the other side of the bridge. I caught hold the top with both hands and swung through it - I then lowered myself onto the bank and into the river to make my up under the bridge to try and reach this scared little pup before the river weed gave way. When I got to Jack, and took him in my arms, it is something I will never forget. I don’t think he was ever more grateful to see me or I him. Of course, I lifted him onto the bank and then it dawned on me, I had to get out and, considering my bottom half was absolutely drenched, it was going to be really difficult. Anyway out I got, walked across the road slightly less elegantly than the ‘Man from Atlantis‘ and we all had a wrap in a warm towel, I had a change of clothes and we went nowhere that day. Now I did say I was proud of myself earlier - my darling husband was not. He was not at home and wasn’t due home till the following evening and what could have happened was unthinkable. Would I have done things differently? I don’t think so, and I don’t think there would have been many that would. Nighty, night