Barbara's blog: Tails From The Trail

Boomer knows how to tell the time. Like all dogs, his sense of smell is so keen that he can track the tiny changes in our scent in the air and associate it with a specific time of the day. Like walkies. Which, as luck would have it, is also my favourite time of the day.

Walkies are sacred for woman and hound. I take pleasure in this alternative form of meditation by zoning out of the everyday and tuning into nature, who rewards me with a phantasmagoria for the senses, from bird song to dew-sodden leaves, glistening in the light, to the earthy scent of the ground, still damp from the night air.

Gradually, as I walk, thinking is replaced by feeling.

Boomer looks forward to catching up with the local “news” by sniffing every bush, scampering across the fields and hopping through the long grass as well as his three legs will allow (Boomer is in fact a tripaw, having suffered a car accident a few years ago). On the home-working days, these walks provide much needed head space before I start work.

Boomer and I meet many familiar faces during walkies, the humans and dogs that, like us, are early risers and out, come rain or shine. We don’t always stop to chat unless the weather is especially bad – an ironic “Beautiful day!” uttered in a deluge! – or the dogs have been up to no good, in which case the exchange is unprintable.

For example, we have Stanley the Dalmatian, who, despite his still dashing good looks, is old, grumpy and always growls at Boomer to give him space. Boomer is a lover, not a fighter so he quickly gets the message. Stanley, together with two impeccably behaved black Labradors, belongs to the “posh couple”, thus nicknamed as they give out upper class vibes in their neat and colour coordinated attire. As they stroll hand in hand, a friendly “Good morning!” trills in their cut glass accent.

We then have Benny, a fluffy Heinz-57 mutt with a sprinkling of terrier, and his owner, a middle-aged single dad with a teenage daughter. Benny used to bark the minute Boomer came into view but since I decided to ignore the yapping and crouched down to scratch behind his ear, he now greets us with a waggy tail. The owner likes to chat, which is how I found out that his flat had caught fire leaving him and his daughter in emergency accommodation for a few weeks. Benny loves walkies and refuses to budge when it is home time, causing his owner to pick him up – although Boomer and I think it’s all an excuse for a cuddle.

Next is Dobby, a white, rough-coated Jack Russell, not dissimilar to Tin Tin’s dog Snowy. You would be forgiven for thinking butter wouldn’t melt, but you’d quickly change your mind upon hearing Dobby snarl. The owner keeps telling me that Dobby just wants to play and that is how he lets us know, but neither Boomer, nor I are particularly convinced of that.

The last of our friends is Willow, a gorgeous Golden Retriever whom Boomer loves. Her owner is an older gentleman who, during Covid, walked one million steps in a single month for charity. Willow likes to swim and is able to scout out water like a diviner, often returning covered in mud and with leaves and sticks poking out of her fur, clear signs of having had a blast.

I have not mentioned Harvey, Luna, Copper or Pandy, nor all the other dogs we meet whose name I don’t know, but there is enough of us to make a large pack. And although our back stories might be different, we are united in recognising that walks are beneficial for us and our hounds because they promote a connection with nature and enhance the bond with our dogs, both scientifically proven to support mental and physical health.

No other species has been so deeply integrated in our lives, rooted in thousands of years of shared history. And to an introvert who finds interactions with strangers awkward and exhausting, this profound connection also speaks of the human condition, where the desire to love and be loved unconditionally is shared with our canine companions and built on a foundation of mutual communication and emotional understanding. “Happiness is a warm puppy” indeed… (Charles M. Schulz).

Barbara works as an environmental strategist for the aviation regulator and lives a stone’s throw from the South Downs, with her 19-year-old creative daughter, 17-year-old ingenious son and supportive husband.

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• Families