by John Periam
Shelley sat by my car door chewing her bone whilst looking at the deer in the distance – she always had good eyesight. Locking the car up we went for a walk around the park and beside the lake this time keeping her on the lead as the last thing I wanted her to do was jump into it, as we had to drive to Blakeney where we were staying the night. At Holkham they sell some terrific ice creams so one of those was certainly on my list before we set off up the long drive out of the estate. The grandeur of Holkham Hall is best shown up by the park surrounding it making it one of the most beautiful stately homes in this country.
At Blakeney we checked into the hotel which was going to be our base for two days. Situated just off the small harbour it was ideal and the room was very comfortable. There are plenty of walks around the area including lots of marshland. In the distance one can see the Blakeney Point that allows the boats out into the North Sea.
Each day at certain tide times there are trips out from the harbour to see the seals at the point. I booked a trip and the owner had no problems in allowing Shelley on board. Knowing her love of the water I held onto her tightly and she spent the forty minutes there looking over the side of the boat whilst getting the odd pat or stroke from others on board.
Once at the point we disembarked and made our way to the old lifeboat house where we had some tea. Afterwards we walked together along the shoreline and towards the beaches that had the seals, taking care not to disturb them. Shelley seemed very content and happy making the most of the beautiful weather. It was as though she was very much as peace with herself and treasuring these moments with me. The time came for the trip back in the boat, settling down next to three children she met on the beach who made a real fuss of her with one even offering her some chocolate.
That evening we went to a nice local where we made some new friends and Shelley fell asleep in front of an open log fire. Although it was autumn the evenings did chill – more so in Norfolk than elsewhere with the bracing Easterly winds. The landlord amused me as it seemed that he was topping up his glass every few minutes throughout the evening and getting rather inebriated. He was in a world of his own.
Next day we set off to Wells to get some cockles (always a favourite of mine) only to return back to the car to find I had been given a parking ticket. Seeing the warden in the distance I tried the little boy lost act but that did not work. When I got back home I sent a letter to the harbour master who issued it and because I was RNLI he waved it. (Power to the people)
The Wells lifeboat was situated out on the sands in the distance and had two launch sites, one from each end of the boathouse onto the beach. Launching there involved a tractor as the tides could be very low indeed. I recall seeing a great photograph that was taken for the RNLI of this site. The crews and the coastguard teams were all standing around the boathouse along with other rescue services. This sold very well.
Shelley was made welcome by the mechanic who was on duty and I was given a nice cup of warm tea whilst we chatted about the different stations. If there is something very appealing about Wells it is the way the forests come down to the beaches and then the miles of barren sand that stretch along the length of the coast. Sometimes you can be the only person there if it is the right time of day. The crew was made up by local fishermen and others that can get to the station most times of the day. It has been know sometimes, when there is a shout that the lifeboat will stop at a fishing boat out at sea to collect a crew member when passing.
In the summer the area gets very busy indeed with holiday makers and there are also a lot of caravan sites situated along the nearby coast. Shelley and I made our way along the sands for a short walk and I let her off the lead but she did not want to go to far staying close to me. It was as though she wanted to tell me something that she was happy just spending her time with me. I was aware she was not getting any younger and since she had the operation she was not as sprightly as she had been in the past. When one is attached to a dog as I was any slight change in mannerism was noticeable. It was the same with me if I felt low or depressed she noticed it and gave me more attention than normal.
We had another night at the hotel and drove out that evening to a pub called ‘The Lord Nelson’. I had heard about it before as it was featured on a television programme. The landlord was a bit of a character and had kept the pub the way it had been for many years. No beer pumps just good bitter straight from the barrel. His till was his apron pocket where he kept his change. The interior of the pub was basic with the walls covered by Lord Nelson memorabilia and pictures of HMS Victory. He was a wonderful conversationalist and was steeped in local knowledge. He made such a big fuss of Shelley bringing her one dog biscuit after another. I told him about her crisp trick and back he came with a packet, as expected she did it to her high standard leaving three pieces of wrapping on the floor.
A gentleman came up to me asking if I had lived in Southwold. He was one of the regional agricultural representatives for a well established animal feed company. He referred to the situation each year where Jack (the farmer) would arrange to take several off us to the London Smithfield Show. The idea was a day out with the lads which was planned well in advance.
It commenced with pleasant train journey to London whilst enjoying a cooked breakfast and Brandy. On arrival we would make our way to a nice Salt Beef sandwich bar by Leicester Square where we would be met by some of Jacks friends. They provided us with carrier bags which contained literature from Smithfield. We would then all go to Simpson’s for a long lunch followed by an “interesting” visit to a well established strip club in Soho before returning back to Southwold with drinks in the Swan.
We were always under the impression that we had managed to get away with this regular jaunt keeping our ulterior motives from our relevant partners. Alas unbeknown to us they knew all the time what we were up to including our non visit to Smithfield. This was confirmed to me this evening for the first time in the Lord Nelson. A small world which proves life can catch up with those that have a guilty conscience.
We both stayed there for a several hours much to the delight of Shelley. It reminded me of a pub near Orford in Suffolk called the ‘Oyster Inn’ that was run by two sisters. The bar was just a basic room and when it rained the locals even bought their bicycles in to keep them dry. You were served your dinks from their own parlour at the back and I swear to this day that they never measured the quantity of the Gin they put in a G and T. The later you stayed the larger the drink became. I remember also going to spend a penny to find a new toilet was being built but as it had not been finished it was just a hole in the ground surrounded by a brick wall without any roof. Those were the days.
At the Nelson the landlord seemed to enjoy his drink as much as the customer and time was of no importance. He opened the pub when he wanted to and closed it when he wanted to. As for the measures in the glasses, they seemed to vary, and along with his occasional removal of your beer mug only to return it topped up, he was, indeed a splendid fellow! When it came to driving back things were a little hazy but with Shelley licking my neck from time to time we made it back before closing time.
The next morning as I went into breakfast several of the residents were looking at me in a very odd manor; to be truthful I did not feel too good either. When I went to pay my bill I asked if there had been any problems only to be told that both Shelley and I fell asleep on the stairs up to our room and with a little assistance from the manager and his wife made it to bed. I wondered why I had my socks on when I woke up. We all parted good friends with a welcome back invite any time we wanted. On checking my wallet when we stopped for a coffee (one of many) I realised just how good the night had been.
We got back to Shoreham, feeling no better and decided an early night was required. It was most odd that it took several days to get back to normal and I have a feeling that the bitter at the Nelson was stronger than I anticipated. I had not had a hangover like this for many a year. Shelley being the caring dog that she was came up to
me from time to time reminding me that I still had to feed her, however sorry I felt for myself.
On reflection it was a wonderful break and it gave us time to share moments that were going to be very precious over the next few months. I think we both new that our time together was starting to draw to a close.
End of Chapter Thirty One
THE QUALITY OF LIFE IS STILL THERE – Chapter 32
I first noticed a change in Shelley whilst returning from work one evening – she was not that keen to get out of the car and I had to help her. At the bottom of the stairs she just sat there and did not follow me up. I went down and tried to help her but she did not want to know. In the end I had to carry her up to the front door.
All was fine, she went in and had some water settling down on her bed for the evening and ate all her food. The problem was when she wanted to go out for her little evening walk. All was okay when it came to going down the stairs and for the walk around the block to spend a penny. On her return the same thing happened again and I had to carry her up. I had a good look at her legs and all seemed fine.
In the morning we once again set off to work driving along the coast to Portsmouth to visit The Royal Navy Hospital, at Haslar. We had both had some great times there over the years and the operating theatre team knew her well. Sometimes if we timed it right we were invited into the chief’s mess for a drink. Shelley was not officially allowed in but somehow she seemed to get invited into the back of the kitchens for a bit of TLC and a few nice prime bits of steak. The theatre technician Bob Howard and a Chief Petty Officer Winn Jones became very supportive to us and helped me meet many senior surgical staff on my visits where I was able to promote the products I sold.
From time to time we also went to functions at the mess and stayed over for the night at a local hotel in Alverstoke. I remember my sales manager Keith joining me for one function. The owner of the hotel ran a furniture manufacturing business as well. He had put a lot of money into the Georgian styled property and it had become very popular with officers from the Royal Navy. Shelley was also accepted by the staff. The hotel had an old fashioned lift which she loved!
The function we attended had the Band of The Royal Marines playing and there was a lot of excellent food and drink consumed during the evening. Shelley stayed back at the hotel. She was used to this lifestyle. Keith and I got a cab to the officer’s mess where we were both greeted with a welcome drink(s), looking smart in our Dinner Jackets. As the evening went on we met more of Bob and Winn’s friends including some of the consultants I had got to know over the years.
For some reason one of the stewards every now and then came up to us both saying, “You have been topped out sir!” and proceed to pour the last drops of every spirit bottle that was emptied behind the bar into our glasses. This went on all evening resulting in yours truly conducting the Royal Marines Band behind the conductor and Keith doing the most unusual dance routine in the centre of the rather elegant ballroom area with a very attractive female navy commander. Unknown to us both; Winn had set this up instructing the stewards to make sure we were the selected pair for the traditional top up routine.
If the truth be know neither of us I am sure remember leaving the function other than getting into a taxi with worried looks from the driver expecting us to ‘have Technicolor yawns’ (throwing up) in the back of his cab, which I am glad to say we did not do! Back at the hotel some navy types were still up and we were invited to join them in spirit if not in mind.
One officer decided to teach us a specific game where a ball bearing slid down two metal rods – the object being to make sure it did not fall of the rails. It seemed easy but was not. He then proceeded to do same but backwards encouraging us to do it but playing for a ‘Horses Neck’ which was a brandy and Ginger Ale. It was an impossible task for us both and we were oblivious to our hotel bar bill increasing all the time. It was fun though and after all we were with the ‘Senior Service’ which was a great honour.
Sensing that this could be a long session I went to get Shelley and after giving her a little walk on the lawn outside the hotel she joined us in the bar. Funny creatures are dog’s! There she was a few days ago having problems walking up the stairs and here she was now with her paws on the bar looking for a packet of crisps and a sip of Winn Jones beer, who had joined us.
As for Keith, he had got to the silly stage and could just not stop laughing; everything we did was a total disaster. Not only that it was 2am and for some reason more navy types were joining us in the bar. It appears we were staying in a well respected late night drinking establishment. The rule being that as long as there were residents drinking in the bar others were welcome to stay as our unpaid guests if approved by the owner.
Eventually we got to bed at about 5a.m (so we were told) surfacing about 10- in the morning feeling terrible and still worse for wear. Poor Keith looked like a ghost out of ‘Scrooge’ whilst I was so dehydrated I kept drinking water all the time. They very kindly had left us some fruit juice and made some fresh toast for us both with jugs of strong black coffee. Keith bit into his toast which resulted in a cry of anguish. Ts the pain of eating it was worse than his actual headache; so he gave that up. As for Shelley she looked at us in utter disgust wondering who she was with. This was soon rectified as Keith passed his toast to her under the table in the lounge.
We paid our bills (slightly more than we expected) but there were receipts to prove that we had almost drunk a bottle of expensive Brandy. Common sense prevailed and we decided to return to see Bob and Winn in the surgical unit. For some reason several of the nurses were looking in our direction and chuckling (it could have been Keith’s dancing skills). Back in the unit we were delighted to see both Bob and Winn looked as bad as we felt. Bob did make us a coffee of sorts and Winn suggested that it would be a good idea to have ‘The hair of the dog’ offering us a small scotch from a discreet hip flask hidden in one of the filing cabinets. I am glad to say that fell on deaf ears!
Bob walked down with us and on the way out suggested that we might like to have a look in a medical museum room that he had the keys. What a mistake; on entry we found it to be full of specimen jars which on closer examination contained body parts ranging from hands to toes to eyes and many other horrible objects. These Bob said with great glee had dated back to Nelsons days when ships surgeons collected them for medical research. I was to later find out it was considered to be one of the most famous surgical collections in the world. They were all put in preservatives including the head of one rating that seemed to stare at you which ever way you looked at him. Shelley was most amused by this when we showed her, making sure not to drop it on the floor in the process!
If nothing else it did get rid of the hangover. We made the return journey to my flat at Shoreham where Keith collected his car to drive back to Essex. Shelley wanted a small walk after Keith had gone so I strolled around the town only to be waylaid by a couple of the Lifeboat crew who felt I looked as though I needed a little light refreshment in the Royal Sovereign whilst only to be told how ill I looked by a very cheerful Ron behind the bar.
It was time to go home and all was fine as we started to walk through the churchyard. Suddenly Shelley let out a terrible wine and had collapsed on the path. She seemed fine after a couple of seconds and got up again. Getting back to the flat I once again had to carry her up-stairs where she went straight to bed.
As it was Saturday we did not have to get up early giving me the chance to have a slight sleep over. On entering the lounge and kitchen I found that Shelley had been far from well and had been sick all over the place. She was on her bed shaking and feeling very sorry indeed for herself. I am sure she was worried about me scolding her. It was not in my nature to do this anyway and accidents do happen.
I rang the vets and they suggested I bring her over to Hove. On arrival she was examined and they put it down to eating something that had not agreed with her. My concern was more about having to carry her up-stairs a lot more th
an usual and the problems with her back leg. On a closer examination it was found that another small lump was starting to grow where the other one had been removed. From time to time this was causing her some pain but at this stage I was told just to keep my eye out for any significant changes to it. There was also another lump under her abdomen but again this was more of the wobbly cyst type. Reassured I left with her having been given some tables for her sickness (which soon cleared) and some pain killers if I needed them for her leg.
I was worried, as I had noticed significant changes in her manners over the past few weeks. A good friend of mine, Nicky Brock who lived on the Shoreham Beach told me that a dog will always tell you when the pressures of life are too much for them. They look at you in a certain manner hoping that you will understand their wishes. He had been the owner of a wonderful black Labrador telling me how he took her for her last walk along Shoreham Beach before taking her to the vets to say his goodbyes. It was the hardest thing he had ever done and cried for days afterwards. It was like loosing your right arm.
The problem with pets is that you become so attached to them – from a kitten to a horse they are to the owners a source of deep comfort and companionship. The loss of one of them sometimes is very overbearing indeed. I was aware that Shelley had not reached this cycle in her life yet; however time was now of the essence for us to share some more happy moments together – and that I intended to do!