The Shipwright's Arms

Poor old Haggis is not very well and, naturally, as he is 14 years young, this is the cause of a certain anxiety among the humans, including the Angel Betty. He was off his food last night and spent the evening mooching around groaning and grumbling theatrically and was a bit sick at one stage.

This morning the humans cannot deny that they both crept anxiously down the stairs whispering "Please be OK!" and were immensely relieved to find the "H" strolling about un-concerned (and no longer groaning and grumbling). Mum left a message for the Angel B, who came round to check up on him each hour but only reported a coughing fit. Tonight he has his appetite back and is still not groaning, so we assume he's recovered from what ever it was.

Dad liked these pics, both taken from the deck of the SB Cambria last Sunday. This guy put-putted off down Faversham creek in his sail boat, midday-ish, sails furled, outboard running, black and white collie leppin' about under the (reefed) fore-sail. He returned under sail at about 2 pm, weaving interestingly with his dog running along the north bank. He'd presumably been for a lunch time drink at the Shipwright's Arms at Hollow Shore, which is accessible from the Creek side.

Every now and then the dog (who you can just see centre left in the pic, up on the grass bank) would judge himself far enough ahead to run out across the mud and swim out to catch the boat, but he'd always get it slightly wrong and the drunken sailor would weave by the swimming dog, apparently oblivious of the dog's attempts to get back on board. The dog, disappointed, would paddle back to the bank, leap across the mud, shake himself and run on ahead again up the grass levee.

We presume eventually man and best friend were reunited but everyone probably needed a good lie-down by then!

Deefs