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A belated happy New Year to you!

Writer's picture: Jacqueline Heron WrayJacqueline Heron Wray


Happy New Year. Roll On Spring!

As we toddle into 2025, we reflect on the year gone by and look forward to what lies ahead. I hope this newsletter finds you in good health and high spirits, ready to embrace the fresh start that the New Year and spring promises to bring.

We don’t really celebrate bringing in a new year in this house. More often than not we retire to bed early and wake refreshed on the first of January to find out what the rest of the world has been up to.

The 31st had been a cosy, quiet day, chilling after a hectic but wonderful family Christmas. I was preparing a simple supper, and while it was simmering, emanating comforting aromas, I went to shower and try out various new smelly products Santa had kindly brought for me. Calming tranquil aromatherapy. Bliss!

The doorbell rang just as I walked downstairs, feeling suitably refreshed and relaxed. My heart sank a little, but it was to plummet much further.

My neighbour asked if I knew where our dog, Layla was. She looked anxious as she told me someone had put a post on our resident’s chat group saying that the local chat group had reported seeing a Newfie wandering about in the village. I often don’t even know where my phone is, so was blissfully unaware of any ongoing situation.

 Layla loves cold weather and spends most of her time in the garden, so it wasn’t unusual not to see her for several minutes at a time, our back door is almost always permanently ajar, we freeze, but so long as Layla is happy then we are, well, within reason. She even has bells hanging on the inside of the door. She rings them when its closed and she needs/wants to go out.

 By now, you should understand Layla's place in our household pecking order of importance.

In case you hadn’t guessed, Layla is one of the loves of my life. She is a brown, adorable, soppy-eyed eyed gentle, and loving Newfoundland dog who had just turned two years old on the 9th of the month. She had also entered her second season a week before Christmas.

Her hormones were raging causing her to howl mournfully most nights, keeping everyone awake. We pre-empted any escape plan she may have been plotting by putting a bungee strap and cable ties on the gates. We have three gates, and she has been known to open two of them.

By now my husband Mike, and my dad were in the garden searching and calling but she had escaped, she was gone.

I immediately panicked. My head was all over the place. What if she gets hit by a vehicle? What if she gets lost and doesn’t come back? What if she gets stolen? Any aromatherapy benefits disappeared into the ether, much like Layla seemed to have done.

Mike immediately got into his car and set off to find her, as did our kind neighbour.

I ran upstairs to throw some clothes on over my pj’s, found a spare lead, and a torch, and set off out the front door on foot.

We live at the bottom of an unlit quiet country lane, so venturing out on a cold, dark damp, and rainy evening is something I rarely do willingly.

I searched the country lane at the top of the road, terrified I would see her lying injured in a ditch. I waved my torch at oncoming cars like a thing possessed, attempting to alert drivers to slow down. I walked all around the village, stopping dog walkers (the only people mad enough to be out walking on a night like that) to ask if they had seen Layla. One woman said she had seen the message on the local chat. She asked if I had posted anything on Facebook. It was then I realised I had forgotten to pick up my phone, not unusual for me but incredibly stupid given the circumstances. She offered to do it for me when I noticed Dad’s car approaching, he called out to me that Layla was at home safe and sound. I immediately burst into tears and hugged the poor woman who had stopped to help me. The relief was overwhelming.

Now I mentioned we live at the bottom of a country lane. As my husband was driving up, he saw two eyes glinting in the headlights. It was Layla heading for home. The lane is very narrow, so after getting her into the car (she has her own set of stairs for this) he reversed the short way back to the courtyard to turn and head for the back of the house where we park,

You may remember I mentioned I left by the front door? Mike had obviously been driving to the back of the house as I left by the front.

 It was cold and dark and raining. Mike called my phone only to hear it ring in the kitchen!

Now Mike and Dad were seriously worried about me.  What if I got lost? ( I often get lost!) what if I fell over? (I often fall over, don’t ask me why)

Lessons were learned.

Never underestimate the determination of a dog in season to escape and procreate.

Always carry your phone on cold, dark, wet evenings.

Unfortunately, this sorry tale has not quite come to an end. We called the vet immediately for advice and were informed that there was plenty of time to act if necessary. There is an injection, a dog equivalent of the human morning-after pill, but with dogs, it is more like the 10-day-after injection.  That said we were told that for a lady of Layla's stature, it would be more than £500, so a scan was advised and booked for the end of the month.

I can hear some of you shouting out ‘why wasn’t she spayed?’

That was/is our intention, but with Giant breeds, vets advise to delay the procedure until the dog is at least two years old, after their second season, and to wait approximately 15 weeks after it has ended.

 

And lastly…

I have learned that no matter what year, month, or day, some things will never change.


I am loved

I will be worried about something.

I will be worried about someone.

Someone will be worried about me.

I have something to be thankful for.

I have something to feel happy about

I have something that makes me sad.

I will feel contented.

I will feel anxious

I will look forward.

I will look back.

I will procrastinate when it comes to writing and cleaning out cupboards









I am extremely fortunate, and I do not take that for granted.

 

Jacqueline Heron Wray 2025

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