Cavan Calling/Steph Booth: I can imagine I look quite a sight as I set off on walks with our three dogs. Bella, our cavalier spaniel, is the oldest.
She is definitely overweight, despite exercise and a proper diet of dry, complete food. Whenever I visit the vet with her I know he does not believe me when I tell him this, and I have to stand there steaming with embarrassment as he lectures me on my responsibilities as an owner.
Then there is Holly, a Jack Russell terrier who just lives to walk. She has a problem with her back legs, which is apparently fairly common with her breed. Occasionally, as she is running, one of her knees will dislocate and, without breaking her stride, she will flick out her leg and put her knee back in again.
Finally, we have Millie, a springer spaniel. She has hip dysplasia, which does nothing to dampen her joie de vivre. So, there is one fat one, one with a gimp and another one with bad hips. We are certainly a motley crew heading off into the mountains - but we are happy!
Everywhere is bleak and barren-looking at the moment. Recently, on the television news, I saw an item on global warming. Apparently, in England, spring bulbs are flowering. Global warming hasn't reached this part of Ireland - it's still definitely winter here. But then, it is good to have properly marked seasons. In these cold, dark days it gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes we do get reminders, which keep us believing - the sun appears and the mountains are bathed in light.
The dogs and I were down at Lough MacNean the other day in the late afternoon, just as the light was beginning to fade. I noticed that the water had the faintest hint of a red path running across the surface. When I looked up, one of the clouds had a smudge of pink sunlight in it. This is hopeful, isn't it?
It is not often we meet anyone when we are out walking, but recently we bumped into an old farmer who was admiring Millie, whom he mistook for a gun dog. I didn't like to disillusion him by explaining that the first bang from a shotgun would have her heading for home with her tail between her legs. The farmer told me he had recently spotted a cock pheasant. I haven't seen much evidence of wildlife around here, not even rabbits. Mind you, given the amount of granite just below the surface of the ground, they would be in need of a jackhammer to dig a burrow!
I did see a fox last spring. I happened to glance out of the bedroom window and the fox was sauntering down the road enjoying the sunshine. He certainly had chutzpah. I found out later he had taken two lambs from a nearby field.
Our peaceful surroundings are one of the blessings of living here, but on the other hand the people Tony and I have met have been warm and friendly toward us. I was surprised then to be asked recently how we were coping with being "blow-ins". At first I did not understand what I was being asked, as we have never been made to feel we are outsiders.
Writing this column has also put me in contact with lots of people. I was delighted to find out just how many readers will take the time and effort to write to me. When I moaned in this space about crumpets being impossible to find in Ireland, I got lots of advice and commiserations and someone even went to the trouble of sending me Delia Smith's recipe so I could try making my own.
I have received messages from New York from people who used to live in this area, including Mary McManus, who still has relatives locally. She told me how she likes to read the column on her bus journey home from work. So the answer to the question about "blow-ins" is that we enjoy our solitude, but in no way feel isolated.
Strangely enough, just as I was writing this, an invitation arrived for Philip McManus's surprise 50th birthday party. Unfortunately, Tony will be away in England filming for the BBC, but I will be delighted to attend and am looking forward to it. Philip will, of course, be mightily hacked off that I've announced to the entire nation his advanced years. Happy birthday, Philip!
