Long walks highlight the purrfect pet-sitting day

By Nosher, guest blogger

Kathryn and Bill head towards the gate and the five dogs race after them, romping and wrestling and nipping at each other. They’re fired up for their daily long walk in the woods. Kathryn clips a leash on Lui, Bill opens the gate, and they all tumble through into the laneway, then race off towards the logging roads leading up the mountain.

“Nosher, are you coming?” Bill asks, as I saunter towards the gate. I’ve got too much pride to show eagerness for a walk, but I don’t like to miss these forays into the woods. Bill and Kathryn are still new with the dogs and who else but me – a gorgeous long-haired black feline – could help herd them in the right direction?

These two humans are house-sitting and pet-sitting for 10 days while our permanent human staff, Lorraine and Martin, are on holiday in England. Lorraine always says I think I’m a dog, but I have too much cattitude to be a canine.

We set off up the logging road, a rough dirt track that’s part of a network through the stands of eucalyptus that are grown here in Portugal for pulp. Shadow, Rush, Rudy and Milo race ahead, veering off into the woods to sniff out creatures. Bill attempts to keep them together, Kathryn holds Lui’s leash as he trudges along (he’d far rather be off hunting), and I bring up the rear, making sure no one is left behind.

Lorraine and Martin moved to Portugal with two cats – Gina and Tim. Then Lorraine started volunteering at an animal shelter and their menagerie began to grow because she couldn’t say ‘No’ to these poor animals. Now, they have five dogs, 10 or so cats, and four chickens, including a rooster named Colin. Let me introduce you to them.

I’ve overheard Kathryn and Bill saying they love Lorraine and Martin’s place – a 100-year-old stone farmhouse (called a quinta here in Portugal) with huge front and back yards for us to romp in. It’s in a small hamlet in the mountainous area east of Coimbra. They’ve been travelling for a while but need time to relax and unwind. I figure they should do like the dogs do – enjoy feeding time twice a day, be delighted by walks, greet people joyfully, romp and play, and then take long naps. Inexplicably, they also enjoy reading, cooking, and watching movies.

Kathryn and Bill are indeed delighted by our walks – the highlight of each day. They pause on the road to look out over the valley at other hamlets and towns and watch the clouds lumber across the sky. On the far side of the valley, a line of wind turbines curves to the top of the mountain. Sometimes, they can see rain moving along and try to guess when it will hit us. 

Before Lorraine and Martin left, they reviewed all the pets’ schedules and feeding preferences with Bill and Kathryn. They also gave them a tour of the nearby towns, pointing out the vet, the grocery stores and some restaurants. Our pet-sitters ended up sticking mostly to home, but on a couple of days, they went out exploring. The nearby schist villages were their favourites.

Apart from the daily (and sometimes twice daily) walks, Kathryn and Bill spend time throwing sticks in the yard for the dogs, feeding the chickens, cooking (purchased) chicken livers to mix with the dogs’ kibble, brushing the dogs, rescuing Shadow’s stolen objects, and letting cats and dogs in and out of the house. Unfortunately, collecting fresh eggs isn’t a duty since Mrs. Crowe is in a hiatus from laying. They also send regular updates to Lorraine and Martin.

After an hour of walking the logging roads, my paws get tired. I meow a few times to the humans, then gallop up to Bill and jump on his back, clawing my way to his shoulder. Yes, a ride will do just nicely. He understands and walks on.

I sniff the air, taking in the minty-piney-sweet eucalyptus scent that’s supposed to be calming. It’s particularly strong after the rain, when water clings to the leaves and soaks the ochre-coloured earth. I shrug – it’s all I’ve ever known but Bill and Kathryn seem to really love it.

As the sun begins its descent, Kathryn and Bill finally start heading for home.

“Rudy! Rush! We’re going home for dinner,” Kathryn calls. Milo and Shadow pull their noses from a tuft of grass where they’ve been routing out small prey. The only things we’ve seen them find are a lizard and a vole, but they never give up trying. Rush comes bounding full speed down the lane and splashes into a puddle. Shadow joins him and lies down in the muddy water to cool off – she’s a true labrador who loves the water. Milo has a quick drink. Then they all take off towards home. They know that dinner time is nigh.

“Rudy!” Bill calls. “He’s gone. I hope he really does know his way home.”

We arrive home without Rudy, but the other dogs don’t seem to notice. They range themselves around the feeding station as Kathryn and Bill prepare their food, then set it down for them. When Bill goes to put the chickens into the coop for the night, Kathryn feeds all us felines. We wolf down our dinner.

Kathryn walks up to the gate. There is Rudy, waiting patiently to be let in for his dinner.

“Welcome home, Rudy,” she says, ruffling his head and neck. “Good boy.” We’re all home safe, fed, and secure. I can finally rest.