Six Legs, Two Heads, One Tale...

...with apologies to TM for borrowing her blog title.

On Thursday 12th May I had driven my car to the Vauxhall dealer in Chorley for its annual service and MOT test. I was running home along the Leeds Liverpool Canal, having joined it at Bridge 75 (Hoggs Lane), planning to leave at the Douglas Aqueduct and finish along the A6.

Two young women passed me, running towards Chorley, followed by a small brown terrier. I shouted something to them about it being cruel to make such a small dog run so fast and they turned to say that it wasn't theirs, it had just tagged on. I suggested that they should shoo it back whence it had come. They did this and it then, fairly predictably, she (more on this later) tagged on to me.

She was a bonny little dog, friendly and only a puppy. Having been adopted, I then felt honour bound to find her owner. So I asked everyone I met, whether walking, running or barging, and most wanted to chat about the problem; this delayed progress somewhat. Realising that very soon we would be passing some road bridges I thought she should be put on a lead and kept my eyes open for a piece of string or similar.

Luckily, a lady dog-walker, walking in the Chorley direction, lent me her lead, saying that her dog (Eddie!) didn't really need it just then. So, with my new canine friend in tow, I continued homewards asking everyone I met whether they had met my pooch previously - none had. Eventually, the lead lady caught me up, having turned back towards Adlington on her way home. She lived overlooking the canal and as we reached her house, she went indoors to find another lead, that she had no use for - I continued on my way with my new, replacement pink (!) lead.

I left the canal at bridge 68 and continued towards the A6, but pooch became very nervous as we approached the main road and I decided to see if the pet shop would take charge until I could return in the OSH's car (mine, you will remember, if you have been paying attention was still at the Vauxhall garage) so that I could search for somewhere that could scan for a chip. The pet shop lady was dubious - the last time anyone did this, it was an alsatian that they left, and they never returned! Anyway, she must have thought I looked honest, or possibly too gormless to have come up with this idea and I was allowed to leave sans hound.

I did return not much later to be told that the owner had been contacted and was on her way to collect. Apparently, the pet shop chips tortoises (or Esio Trot, as Dustin Hoffman/Roald Dahl  would have you believe) and had a scanner and, after a few phone calls had tracked the owner down to the farm with the sand quarry - no, I didn't know there was one in Adlington either. The owner duly arrived and was immediately reunited with her puppy.

Four further bits of info:- 1. the puppy was a little boy called Tom, although this hadn't been obvious from my cursory examination. 2. The lead lady wants to take up running, so you may yet get to meet  her. 3. My elderly Astra passed its MOT at the first attempt. 4. The puppy was a Plummer Terrier:- https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=dog+plummer+terrier&espv=2&biw=1600&bih=775&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjlk4G5nNrMAhUsDMAKHWZ7D5MQsAQIMw

Not a bad outcome, all told.