We moved the Bean into her own digs last weekend. There are no blinds (yet) on the window, so when the sun rises, it wakes her up. Trev was doing early duty with her yesterday, and while playing with her on the floor, she stood up and toddled three steps. I heard him shouting in triumph and got up to have a look, but she wouldn’t do it again. She stood up and bobbed in place a few times, but no more walking.
“She’ll sleep on it and be running by June,” Trev said.
Later that day we went down to Warwickshire to do a hike around Kenilworth Castle (photos soon). We had to backtrack after about three miles because the Bean was wailing– hot, uncomfortable, scared by the low-flying planes approaching BHX. She fell asleep in Trev’s arms as we were walking back and woke up just as we were threading our way through a herd of cows. She waved at them.
“Hey-wooooooo!” she crowed. She looked at Trev quizically. “Wowf wowf wowf?”
“Cows, not dogs, darling. Moooo.”
We paid to go into the castle. It is a red sandstone ruin, where Henry II and III and V and Old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster, and later Robert Dudley, main squeeze of Queen Elizabeth I, all spent time. (Those of you that have been to visit us will have spent a day out at Dudley’s much larger home, Warwick Castle).
Kenilworth is run by English Heritage. They charge you about £8 per adult and are perfectly happy to let you loll around on the ample lawns inside the main keep. We each gave Bean a finger and “walked” her around the garden for a while, letting her lead. Passersby cooed at her. She let out many yowps of pleasure and triumph that resounded off the red walls and through the drowsy, buzzing summer air.
And today, while sitting on the floor patting Trev’s hair (he was lying down doing stretching exercises), she put on a determined face and stood up and started to walk. She walked 20 steps around the living room and then obliged us by walking for the camera. See how pleased with herself she is: