Would You Know My Name?

On the Space where my Mum's house is, there used to be a field. A field full of long grass, sandy filled holes, rabbit warrens, and the odd fox or badger set.

They built mum's housing estate on half of it, and on the other half the whins, and long grass grew and was a playground for children and pets, and courting teens.

Before the Dogwithnobrain, there were two other Doggies. The first, out of the Three, was the Dogwithmostbrain, but even he had his moments. Sniffing out Rabbits, probably right on the space where Mum's house is, he got stuck down a large hole. My Dad had to go home, get a shovel and dig the hole bigger, so that the Dogwithmostbrain could get out.

In between him, and Dogwithnobrain, came DogwithVeryLittle Brain, but very lovely Disposition.

The Honeypig's, (for that was the name of the DogWithVeryLittleBrain), favourite game was Hide and Seek amongst the Whins.

Many a great evening was spent throwing a ball or a stick for Honeypig, and as she ran in the opposite direction, we (Me, Mum and Si), would take off and dive for cover into a nearby Whin bush.

There would then follow much sniggering, and giggle incontinence, while we heard Honeypig run back and forward trying to find us. If we were careful, we would poke our heads out from behind the bush, and see her, on her back legs scanning round the Whins and long grass trying to find us.

If she caught sight of us, there was no escape; she would bound towards us with her limitless energy and knock us all off our feet.

One such evening, well truth be told it was probably gone midnight, we had enjoyed a particularly enthusastic evening at the pub, and decided upon our return, a game of hide and seek in the whins, would be the perfect way to end the evening.

Off we all staggered. Honeypig beside herself with joy because she was getting to play in the grass in the dark! We bounced around those whins for ages, and when finally, our enthusiasm wore off and bed called, we headed home.

The next morning, disaster ensued.

Mum got up first, and walked into the kitchen to discover the floor, blackened with the regurgitated contents of Honeypigs guts, regurgitated from both ends; blackend, because whichever dead animal she had eaten whilst in the middle of the game, had been burnt to a crisp inside one of the frequent whin fires. The floor was sodden, from the hallway to the back door.

Si came down stairs and chased Mum away to deal with it himself. Gagging the whole time he was cleaning the mess.

Very fortunately. I was dying of alcoholic poisoning, and missed the whole sordid mess.

Sadly though, I didn't miss the smell which lingered for days, despite a multitude of candles and insense sticks and repeated washing of the floor.

Everytime I see Whins, I think of those games, and I know that if there is a Doggie Heaven, the Dogwithverylittlebrain's heave looks like this, full of endless games of hide and seek, and hopefully very few crispy rabbits!