If you read my post 'A Funny Thing Happened On The way To The Bins'. That was written back in February you'll know who this is. This is Bobo, the wild pigeon who found refuge in my shed and still comes back from time to time to get fed. Still very much a wild pigeon though - which is no bad thing.
Bobo's leg is still all twisted and at times it is tucked up but it seems to be managing just fine. It is managing so well it seems to have a mate who has chased other birds away when they both arrive to see if any food is left out for them.
I haven't managed to get a photo of them both yet but maybe one day.
Bobo cautiously limps about the yard and makes her way toward the shed where some bird food is waiting
This is Cavehill I mentioned it in an earlier post. My daddy used to tell us stories. One was that he was the only man to jump off Cavehill and survive. Through the magic of aero dynamics and his jacket he glided down into Bellevue Zoo – overshot where he was supposed to land and ended up in the lions’ cage. The lions were grumpy (well, as he explained their cages were tiny, definitely not big enough for unexpected visitors)! Off course he had to wrestle with them so Belfast was, for a while the only Zoo that had lions who looked a bit like pandas with their black eyes. Dad not being a violent man had to give them only enough of a thumping to knock them out and make good his escape. From there he made his way down to the Bellevue Arms for a pint … All that gliding and thumping was thirsty work! “Tut tut tut!” I can hear all the health and safety fanatics say –“What an irresponsible parent!” Maybe so, regardless of all the inconsistencies in his story I believed it, knowing me …Probably up until I was about eleven or twelve.
This is Molly. Molly doesn’t quite understand that she is not a real wolf that she is only descended from wolves. Molly’s teeth wouldn’t even be a millimetre in length and her bite would I am sure be less dangerous than a bee sting. However she is game (which for me can be frightening). I would describe her as having an independent and fearless spirit. She gallivants off quite happily chasing leaves, birds, squirrels and other dogs, if they let her – one problem is I think some dogs think she is some sort of cat or squirrel or maybe some sort of new breed like a casquirrel and although she likes to chase she doesn’t like to be chased.
I took Molly for a walk up Cavehill on Sunday. Molly has wee short legs but when she is gallivanting ahead she sometimes gives you the impression that she is galloping, other times she looks likes she is frolicking. She has the ability to just spring over obstacles like fallen branches or little rivers, although she is so tiny she looks quite graceful and if you catch a glimpse of her face you would swear she is laughing. She is definitely a doggy who likes to have fun and she has had some fearful rolls, jumped up again and belted on as though she is in hot pursuit of something. The few times that she’s even gotten close to a bird she has stopped a few feet short of them cocked her head and just looked at them. Obviously she is not quite sure what she is supposed to do (she has definitely lost a lot of her wolf instincts). I imagine the birds gave her a withering look before flying off, she never gets close to the squirrels but is for the most part totally dumbfounded by them since she discovered that she can’t climb trees.
The walk up Cavehill is fairly steep and I couldn’t help thinking I hope I don’t have to try and run after her if she gets into any bother for I just don’t think I have the puff. Talking about running – there are a lot of crazy people about the Cavehill. People running and people on mountain bikes! Takes all types I guess but they sure put me to shame. When I started I wasn’t even sure if I’d get to the first cave let alone the top. Almost straight away I felt the strain on my calves and my breathing was so heavy I could hear it in my ears (like listening to the sea in a conch shell). Thankfully I was on my own so I didn’t need to apologize for breathing so noisily to anyone.
Apart from the fact that you know you are giving your body a fairly good workout it is a very pleasant place to walk. The wooded area is sheltered you can work up a bit of a sweat quite easily, who needs sauna’s when we have our Cavehill.
I did make it to the Devils punch bowl and the first cave and was quite amazed because it was then that I realised that I was probably going to make it to the top after all. Still fairly undaunted Molly was charging way ahead of me, at times out of my sight and I was starting to get aggravated because calling out “Molly” every so often was in my estimation a bit of a waste of oxygen and as far as I was concerned more work for my lungs which were working hard enough thank you very much.
You walk around the Devil’s Punch bowl across a cattle grid and then ahead of you is another steep climb up to Mac Arts fort. This was as far as I was concerned the last lap and half way up part of me felt as though I should stop and rest another part of me didn’t want to sit down on the dirty ground so I pressed on. It was only after reading the tourist information about Mac Art’s Fort that I realised the possible dangers to Molly.
I was looking around to see where the outline of the fort was (which I didn’t see). What I did see was Molly charging at full speed towards me – and me not that far away from the edge. “No! No! No!” I was shouting at her holding my hands out in front of me.”NO!” I screamed. On she came…just as she passed me I dived down and grabbed her by the tail. I am sure her head swung over the edge giving her a view of the drop. Barking, yelping and a little cursing ensued. I didn’t come up here to do my hip in and murder the dog, I came for the view.
Her lead on, we went on to the top and sat down and enjoyed the view Molly tied firmly to my leg it didn’t stop her trying to jump about and run to the edge (I think she is a special needs dog). And tying her to my leg was not too pleasant for me either – but I got her home safe and sound which I suppose is something.
The Cavehill walk is a four and a half mile circular route. (After my three cigarettes and two coffees to get me started that morning my body probably felt it had walked five and a half miles. Next time I am bringing my asthmatic friend so I can steal her puffer
As for Molly I think my yelling (and cursing) and possibly her swinging over the edge of Napoleons Nose frightened the wits out of her for this is Molly now. The experience frightened her so badly she has went baldy! Honestly..Would I lie to you?
You may also enjoy reading about my hike up Slieve Croob
'With a shillelagh under your arm and a twinkle in your eye'
The crowds of the world (as the saying goes) made their way to Belfast City Centre to celebrate St Patrick's Day yesterday. St Patrick's day is often criticized because of the drinking that is associated with it - but for many it is just a good fun day.
That'll be the ST Patricks Day celebration. Well March 17th is definately a day to party and that's what I intend on doing....And the green that may be almost blinding you when you visit my blog is nothing compared to the colour of my hair!
Well! It is one day in the year that it is okay to be totally daft (honest)! And it is a day that suits my nature. So Slainte, Cheers bottoms up etc etc........Heck what am I rambling on fer wasting valuable drinking time. & not too worry...this particular drink is full of Iron it is a bit like milk a food in itself so I won't even have to waste time eating! Happy Days
& did you know St Paddy is only our Patron Saint because St Bridget was a woman? God's truth....Would I Liw liw lie? & he did not get rid of all the snakes that was fanrasy because I have sown knome in my day
I will probably stink in the morning but who cares everything is going a litttle wobberly!
Cavehill is one of the most famous landmarks in Northern Ireland. It overlooks Belfast and is famous for it's Napoleon's Nose a basaltic outcrop of rock that is supposed to look like the Emperor's profile - and its three caves. From the peak you can see all of Belfast and on a clear day the Isle of man and Scotland. It is a place that generations of Belfast people hold dear. My mum and dad went walking up Cavehill when they were courting, we used to walk over the Hightown Road to the Cavehill for picnics and then down into Bellevue (Now Belfast Zoo). There is an awful lot to be said about Cavehill but for now, I would rather show you some photos. These Photos come courtesy of a friend of mine the Cavehill is one of her favourite walks. This is Cavehill in December/January. Isn't it beautiful?
And There's More!
It is easy to see why Cavehill is one of Corinna's favourite walks. I am tempted to write some more about the history of this awe inspiring place but I think I'll save my words for another post and share the rest of her photos. Thank you Corinna!
Geri O’Hara is not old enough yet to “wear purple and a red hat” but she has been known to wear terrible shirts. She has three children who are a source of pride, joy and inspiration. Her lodger, a Shih Tzu named Molly, takes her walks every day and tries to chase Bobo the pigeon that has adopted them.
Geri has lived a full and interesting life, met some brilliant people discovered some amazing things — about life and about herself. She thinks of herself, for the most part, as lucky and tries to believe that the glass is always half full.
She finally got her BA (hons) in 2008 with the Open University and what a party! You should have been there.
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