That year we were caravanning near Stranraer.
A poster near the harbour tempted us.
An Ulster Bus tour to the Giant's Causeway.
The cost, less then the normal return ferry fare.
But it left at noon and returned at midnight.
We couldn't leave our chinese whippet
alone in the van all that time.
Meandering down some country lane,
we found ourselves on tracks in a wood.
The sign said "The Kennels".
It wasn't a commercial kennels
but the home of the Wigtownshire Hunt.
The keeper heard our story.
agreed to take in our dog the following day.
We went to Ireland,
surveyed the Antrim coast,
climbed the causeway.
The return ferry was late.
A points failure at Crewe
had delayed the mail-train.
The outgoing ferry had waited for it.
We rolled back to the caravan
at three in the morning.
Later we went to the kennels.
Our lazy dog hadn't slept with the hounds.
The keeper of the pack
had warmed to her soft eyes.
She had spent the night in his cottage.
© Gerald England
Composed: Gee Cross, 13th March 2004
2004 Soundeye (Internet)
Crossing the square
3 weeks ago