Take it to the Max
Created | Updated Sep 2, 2009
A Year of Walkies
One year on from getting a canine companion, and I'm reflecting on how fantastic it is to observe the changes in seasons from a dog-walker's perspective.
I think we started off being very keen daily walkers, ignoring the advice that it can be detrimental for young pups to be walked too much, until they're a year old and their bones have formed properly. As a general guideline, 5 minutes for each month is enough, so a 9 month old pup only needs 45 minutes walking at a time. It's also a mistake to walk them too much until they've learned how to walk on a lead nicely, and we're still paying the price for that one!
The Square
Our favourite short walk is 'up to the square' – this is a fenced in grassy garden area around which some modern townhouses have been built. Being totally enclosed, it means it is safe enough to let Max off the lead and have a bit of a run about. He loves chasing balls, and one of his faves at the minute is a hard red plastic one which flashes and emits beep-beep noises when thrown – this also means that it's a good one to play with as the light is fading. The downside of this area is that it is also popular with the local children, and while Max would love nothing more than to jump and play with them, most of them would be terrified by a dog of his size leaping at them. Plus he'd only bite their football and deflate it, so it would be tears all round really.
The tow-path
Further afield, we have the tow path. It's about a mile away, so a bit of a walk to get to it, and if I'm pushed for time I'll pop Max in the back of the big car (the Maxi-cab, as it is affectionately known) and drive to the path. The main bit of the tow path is very popular with joggers and cyclists, as it forms part of the cycle route into Belfast. I daren't let Max run off leash there, in case he frightens some poor cyclist and they end up splashing into the river. But there is an old overgrown fisherman's path where I do feel safe enough in releasing the hound. We started using this path last November, when the ground was crisp with frost, and at times there was ice on the surface of the water in the little feed canal that runs alongside it, down towards an old abandoned linen factory. During the Spring, the water in the river often became very swollen, with massive surges of fast moving currents topped with scummy froth tumbling over the weir. Brambles and nettles started to grow viciously, and by the summer it was difficult to get all the way down the path, and you certainly wouldn't attempt it in anything other than long trousers and fully covered arms. But the main reason I haven't taken Max there for a while is because of the threat he might pose to the wildlife – I was scolded very angrily by a mummy duck last time I was down during the summer, and I managed to glimpse a couple of furry chicks cowering under a clump of grass, so best let them get a bit older before we venture back. It was also the scene of the very memorable time that Max fell in the canal, and I had to drag the poor soggy doggy out again.
Hillsborough
About 3 miles away is Hillsborough Forest, an absolutely wonderful patch of ancient woodland. Its proximity to urban areas make it one of the most heavily used of the Northern Ireland Forest Service's resources, which in total cover about 6% of the land area of NI. The pathway round the lake is very busy especially after church on a Sunday - there's even an ice cream van in permanent residence in the car park at weekends! To avoid the prospect of Max's mucky paws being planted on some unsuspecting churchgoer's lovely new Sunday best winter coat, we've found some quieter paths off the beaten track. Well, the track is pretty well beaten after a year of Max and me trodding it! We park at the back exit, and then wind our way through the trees, skirting the perimeter of the whole forest. There are some beautiful flowers here deep in the woods – cheery clumps of primroses in April are replaced by a hazy carpet of bluebells in May, and I even found some rare flag irises growing in a boggy pond. During Spring the paths got quite muddy, and as streams started to get deeper I had to become more athletic with my leaps across them. One of my best buys of 2008 was a cheap pair of sturdy boots, now looking rather dilapidated, but having given me sterling service they can be retired and replaced with a clear conscience. In the Summer, the streams dried up again, and tall foxgloves marked our way. I loved the long evenings - coming home from work and still being able to take Max for a walk in the forest was a great way to switch off from the stresses and cares of the day. In the Autumn, the streams are filling up again, and I'm astounded at the variety of fungi that can be found in the forest. All shapes and colours, from little round white balls, to classic red spotted umbrella shaped ones. Not that I'm brave enough to try eating them – the fact that of two identical looking toadstools, one can be delicious and the other poisonous, always struck me as very poor evidence for intelligent design.
Drumkeeragh
Our best-loved forest walk is about 15 miles away in Drumkeeragh. This is a rather remote forest set in a quite hilly area near the village of Dromara, so it's usually safe enough to let Max off the lead for the whole hour and half it takes for us to walk round. It's my favourite part of the weekend. The hilliness gives my thighs a good work out too, and the vistas that open up at the crest of a hill, across the drumlin topology of County Down, with glimpses of the sea glinting in the distance, are jaw-droppingly spectacular. Its remoteness has a dark side too – the forest was the location of a murder about 10 years ago. So I'm quite glad as we tramp around it that I have a large dog by my side.
Well, I say by my side, he's usually off sniffing and chasing the enticing scents of the rabbits, birds and squirrels that live here. Weims were bred for hunting in forests, and you can tell how completely at home he is in this environment. He will literally touch base with me every so often, running back to see where I am, and pressing his wet nose briefly against my fingers, before scampering off again, tail aloft and ears alert. He loves to splish and splosh in the many peaty puddles and streams that criss cross this forest – thank goodness we keep a separate car blanket in the back of the Maxi-cab! We found wild raspberries on one of our walks here in August, and of course these were soon followed by an abundance of jewel bright blackberries. The gravel paths in the forest were badly damaged by the floods in early September, and I was glad I always have my mobile phone with me, as I could take some before and after shots of the damage that had been done by such a quantity of flooding water. Often, it seems we have the whole forest to ourselves, particularly if the weather is at all inclement. And anyone we do meet tends to be other keen dog walkers, so they greet Max cheerfully rather than fearfully.
Each season has its own pleasure – the crisp crunch underfoot in the Winter, the colourful flowers of spring, the luxury of long evenings in the Summer, and the magnificent changing shades of red and gold in the leaves in Autumn. And then we start all over again.
