Walk on the Moor

As Glory B and myself headed towards The Moor I wondered what enthrawling tale The Collar Collectors hut would hold for us on this visit. I so hoped it would be an inspirational tale as we draw towards the years end, and a time for many of relflection and sharing.

We walked across fields of stubble where only months previous had danced golden waves of corn, resplendant in the warmth of the late summer sun. Life had seemed so much more fuller and joyous then. Now as the winters darkness caressed our minds it seemed to subdue lifes vibrant light, born of an internal hope.

Once on The Moor my own internal light glowed as brightly as ever. The Moor was like a battery charger. Irrespective of what life drained you of, She, 'The Moor' would once more reinvigourate the soul, as she had done so often in times past. My mood lightened as I made my way toward Windy Wood in which The Collar Collectors hut was secreted.

On entering the hut I saw The Collar Collector was busy restoring yet another collar to it's former glory, no doubt with some interesting and eventful story attached. On my visits I was always amazed at how such a humble dwelling could house such numerous collars each with their own tale to tell.

Glancing around the assembled collars, my eyes came to rest on a circular dog tag, attached to one fo the collars. I lifted the entire collar for closer inspection.
"NEVER STUMBLE AGAIN"
Those were the words engarved on the dog tag. The Collar was unusual, in that seemed to have some sort of code inbedded in it, 'A host of raised indents' I later learned the indents were infact braille.
My curiousity ignited I requested of The Collar Collector if he would be so kind as to relate the story connected to this particular collar. With the grace born of age and wisdom he straightened his back from the task at hand, and bade me walk The Moor with him.
I graciously accepted his offer to walk, 'Having learned so much on previous strolls, both in knowledge and in the aspirations of humanity. As we walked on the moist carpet that is The Moors floor, The Collar Collector spoke.
"Some years ago now a young girl/woman named Sharon and a Staffordshire bull terrier by the name of Stumble walked the paths of The Moor. Nothing unusual in that I hear you say? Except Stumble was blind, and in the fullness of time Sharon also would loose her sight. I'll start at the begining shall I?
It was discovered at a young age Sharon suffered from a degenerative eye condition, which in time would be the cause of her loosing the ability to see. It was uncetain the time period this would take, their best estimate was less than a decade.
Sharon was not a natural canine admirer, but her rational acknowledged that at some point in the future she would require the assistance of a seeing dog. Therefore logic dictated, if at present she could have a dog, whilst sighted, when the time came and her condition worsened, forcing the need for a canine guide, she would at least have first hand knowledge of the species that would become her eyes. With this thought in mind, she fully intended to visit the nearest rescue kennel as soon as was humanly possible. The following morning Sharon set off towards the rescue kennels. Numerous breeds filling her concious mind,"German Shepherds, Labradors, even the intelligent Border Collie, founda synapsis inher brain. One breed which never even entered her psyche was The Staffordshire bull terrier, no surprise there then,
This is the paradox of life, 'How someone/something never before dreamed of can becomeas precious as life itself.
Approaching the kennel blocks Sharon accompanied by the kennel manager, were met with a chorus of howls and barks, in anticipation excited canines pranced to and fro in their individual kennel runs. Sharon had never seen so many dogs in one place, each attempting in which ever form it could to draw attention to itself. Walking past the kennel blocks, Sharon noticed a dark shape squeezed tihtly against the back wall of its run. She asked the kennel manager what it was, and the reason it stayed so far back in its run. he replied, "This is Stumble a Staffordshire bull terrier who is has been blind form birth, he si now around two years old. He was the property of a scrapyard, an was treated as a canine jester, for the amusement of humans. Since taking his first steps objects were placed around him which he would stumble into due to his lack of sight. This is the life he endured until one month ago, when a kind hearted person purchased him fromthe scarpyard and brought him here. Hopefully time and patience will remove some of the darkness from his life, if not his eyes.
Sharon then uttered words, she herself uncertain oftheir place of origin, "I will take him home" The kennel manager looked at Sharon in surprise, saying, "I have reservations regarding your or anyones ability to cope full time with Stumbes needs, I am prepared to let him go with you for a trial period only. As much as I'm loathed to say it, I'm sure you will shortly return him"
The kennel manager opened the door of Stumbles run. Sharon knelt whispering his name, cautious at first, Stumble eventually put his head and left side against the wire of his run, taking tentative steps towards Sharons voice. Sharon noticed much of his coat was missing on his left side, she looked atthe kennel manager who explained.
"Whilst living in the scrapyard Stumble used to utilise the perimeter fence as a guide, squeezing against it for both comfort and reassurance. This was the one area objects were not purposely placed around him for amusement"
Presently Stumble reached Sharons outstretched hands, she gently drew him close, raising his ear to her lips, saying, " I promise from this day forth, you will, 'NEVER STUMBLE AGAIN' Rivers of tears streamed from Sharons eyes as she held Stumble close feeling the warmth ofhis tongue on her chin.
On arriving home with Stumble, Sharon could not imagine Stumbles past life, and the countless indignities suffered at the hands of humans.
These indignities were in the past, Sharon and Stumble could now look forward to a period of adjustmant and bonding. Just then Sharon had an inspirational idea, being very adept at model building, possessing great dexterity in her fingers, Sharon decided she would construct a sleeve of mesh, 'Like the scrapyard fence' which fitted her left leg. Here began the gensis of her being able to walk Stumble in a psychologically secure mindset. This was the catalyst which enabled the countless miles they would eventually walk on The Moor.
They visited The Rescue Kennel only one week after Sharon had taken Stumble home. The manager could not believe his eyes as Girl and Stafford strode up the driveway to his office, " Dumb founded don't even come close"
So began the pairs, 'Sharons and Stumbles' love affair with The Moor. Everyday for the next six years they traversed The Moors pathways. Stumble had become a truely confident dog, sporting a full coat of gleaming brindle. No part of The Moor was unfamiliar to Stumble, he used his olfactory senses, 'Nose' as the foxes did, nothing crept past undetected.
Like all who walk on The Moor neither their passing nor their intentions go unnoticed by The Lady of The Moor.
At around this time some years past, The Lady of The Moor made her presence known to both Sharon and Stumble. Aware of Sharons predicament, 'Her impending loss of vison' The Lady of The Moor gifted that Sharons sight be restored to its healthy state. Just like the kennel manager had been all those years ago, The Lady of The Moor was staggered by Sharons reply, 'If it is possible I would rather you gifted Stumble with the abilty to see, he has never seen sunlight, I have and have a host of beautiful visual memories to draw on'
The Lady of The Moor looked at both Sharon and Stumble in awe. Though millenia old She, 'The Lady of The Moor' rarely, 'If ever' encountered such selflessness in a human. She decreed then that both Sharon and Stumble would be gifted perfect vision.
As The Collar Collector and myself made our way back to the hut, I was still holding Stumbles collar in my hand. I requested, "What does the braillle on Stumbles collar say?" His reply, " In being your eyes you have taught me so much"

The End.

ps: This tale is written in memory/honour of a Girl/Woman named Sharon. I never met her, and I am the poorer for that. 'HUG' xxx

By Jim

Yep Housedog writes some very poignant stories

This one, A méditer

A Walk on The Moor; Imagined

It has been quite some time since I last walked on The Moor. Like all that we love, it has the ability to draw us back in the hope of more sustainance and enrichment. I had decided prior to alighting on The Moor to once again visit, 'The Collar Collector' my previous visit although sad, also threw light upon the connection between Human and canine, and I felt the richer for that experience.

On opening the door to his, 'The Collar Collectors' hut, I was met with precisely the same feeling of awe I had had on my inaugural visit to this strange hut and its even stranger contents. As was his way, The Collar Collector was busy stitching yet another collar, 'With no doubt yet another enthralling tale of life attached to it' As my eyes once more gazed in wonderment at the seemingly endless array of collars which adorned the hut, my eyes were drawn to two collars, 'In truth it was actually 1 1/2 collars' made from as far as I could acertain some sort of stone. I begged The Collar Collectors indulgence and asked if he would be so kind as to explain to me the purpose of the collars, 'Seemingly made of stone' In order to explain fully the purpose behind, 'The Stone Collars' we shall have to visit an area of The Moor which gave life to the collars. I explained I would be only to happy to traverse The Moor in his esteemed company. With this we set off on our journey, 'A journey of discovery for me and one of memories for The Collar Collector'

As we walked, The Collar Collector put forth the theory that a dogs collar signified, 'The Circle of Life' although two ended when closed it forms a circle as does life. In time we arrived at a circle of stones, 'Not unlike those used to pen farm animals when either worming or sheering is taking place'

The Complete Collar of Stone which I hold in my hand was made to celebrate, also replicate, the stone circle which lies before us. This circle was built, 'Many years ago' by one who bred The Staffordshire bull terrier. So protective was he of the blood which ran through his dogs veins that he confined them, for fear of their mixing with other strains of their kind. Originally the wall was not that high, but as he grew to understand, 'Genetic Inheritance' his stock thrived he had to raise the walls height so as to keep his charges captive. He had one particular dog who outshone all others in his honour he erected, 'A Pilot Stone' and built his wall to this height knowing no other possessed the abilty to out do Pilot in feats of activity and agility. As is the way of genetics his reluctance to use anything other than his stock eventually took its toll on the vigour and hardiness of his canines, and they returned to the average of the breed, a mirror image of those with whom he had started his attempt at making the good, GREAT.

In his autumn years he looked back at what he once had, and prayed that in time to come, someone, 'Maybe many' would see the error of his ways and once more raise The Staffordshire bull terrier to those heights which had forced him to raise, 'The Pilot Stone'

This half collar he made before his death in the hope that some farsighted enthusiasts would have the ability and understanding to furnish the collar with a matching half with which to complete, The Circle of Life'

Could that someone be YOU?????