Don’t leave me!

There was an incident while we were in Yorkshire that was rather reassuring for us, though not for George.

In the “house-that-was-a-church” where we stayed, there was a clock tower. And behind that narrow-gated door were the stairs that led to the very top where the engine of the clock was.

As Alison opened the door, I was as curious as the hoomans to see what was at the top of the clock tower.  As Mummy and Janet gingerly inched their way up the steep and narrow spiral stairwell, I was equally curious myself.  I ran ahead of them up to the top!
George attempted to go in and then got scared and turned around.But up the hoomans climbed went, past cobwebbed narrow windows. And at the top we saw the engine that ran the clocks.Now, all the while we were inside the clock tower, George stayed at the bottom and barked – “Arf! Arf! Arf!” “Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf!” He sounded incensed. He was annoyed that we left him behind. Yet he was too afraid to follow us.

As we have already trialed it, we knew that the church grounds were securely fenced in, so we were not afraid of him running out of the grounds.  After a quick look around, and as the hoomans stood musing about the tower hideaway, I went downstairs to let George know that we have not abandoned him. But the fact that he stood by the narrow door and barked at us the whole time he couldn’t see us was well-noted by Mummy. I’ll let her explain …

May’s comment: It might have been a noisy dog to others but to me it was something reassuring to hear George barking as we were making our way up the narrow stairwell.  I knew that the space was too narrow and the stairs too frightening and he couldn’t get himself to come with us.  Instead he stood and barked as he saw us disappearing up that narrow gap – and he barked the whole time we were missing from view.

He could have gone running around and minded his own business. He could have gone about sniffing to find a way out. But he didn’t. He stayed by the door entrance and barked the entire short while we were inside.

Was it annoyance of being left? Or was it fear that he might have been left? Whichever it was, it said a lot. It indicated to me that he knows he belongs.  He is not feral. He is not wild. His habit of doing “runners” I know now is just simply him being naughty, inquisitive and I guess it’s just George.

When we reappeared, he rubbed his back on the ground with glee and ran around with Darcy.“Don’t leave me again!” he said, annoyed, sad and relieved all at the same time.My adventures with George continues … life is definitely more interesting with George.