Windsock

When small children get very excited indeed they tend to jump up and down on the spot. When dogs become excited they tend to run in circles. Sometimes when Homer became particularly excited it was as though running in circles wasn't enough work for his giant paws and if this happened he would run behind a tree and start digging a hole. We would hear a scrabbling sound and see a flume of dirt shooting sideways from a tree trunk. We would call his name but his full attention would be on the task in hand and we'd have to give a shrill whistle for him to stop.

There is a part-dug hole behind the bay tree and another under the rosemary bush, both of which are quite difficult to access if you are as tall as a person. But his best hole is behind the olive tree we have always called 'windsock'.

Before Spousie built his demountable room outside the kitchen window it was possible to sit in the kitchen looking through the big window and judge just how windy it was by how madly that tree was whirling about.

When Taz died he caught us by surprise and we had to go and dig a hole for him at the drop of a hat, and it needed to be one which Homer would not excavate. But we know what's in store for Homer, so why not choose somewhere appropriate? I have selected Homer's favourite digging spot and extended it to fit him. It's where he used to hide favourite treats and toys and it pleases me to think that that is where he will always be.

There is no certainty that Mo won't win this race still, he has been very poorly today, they may even end up together in Homer's hole, and that would be quite fitting too, a dog and his funny little toy/friend.

Homer's Oddyssey
After we had Homer as a companion for a while, we began to learn more about his back story. He had been found too weak to stand close to the lighthouse by a German couple in the Spring. They were not in a position to adopt him themselves so they brought him from Gourouni to Kastani which was popular among dog walkers in the pre-season. It seems he lived rough for a while, surviving on treats, scraps and bins and once the season began and the beaches began to fill with tourists he was a regular sight fluctuating between Kastani and Milia. From Milia he made his way to Panormos where the pickings were much richer as there are several tavernas there. It seems then that a couple who were on the island for Summer work and who had digs in Skopelos Town adopted him and took him to the bright lights. It can't have been much of an adoption because he was with the town street dog pack most of the time, and when the seasonal workers left the island at the end of the Summer they didn't take the dog with them.

One of the very first things he did when we had brought him to our house was to run away. We went off in search but he was back within thirty minutes, he'd just been going for an explore, as you do, he had no intention of actual escape! He seemed a bit dim, like Bart Simpson's dad and so we chose the name Homer for him, it seemed appropriate all round really.