When I travel, I like to look at the dogs, the interesting little twists and turns that tweak our furry companions across the sea. Most look the same, sometimes, I come across a uniquely different face, one that carries with it the uniqueness of the country I am visiting.
Ireland was filled with faces. Usual ones…..of course, the gentle giants of the land, the Irish Wolfhounds. I met a few, I carried them home in my heart. I think they weighed as much as me, too big to try and smuggle out of the Emerald Isle in my carry on luggage…… 🙂
I enjoyed the little terriers. I lost my Cairn a few years ago. The terriers of Ireland are a hearty breed. I would see them sitting along the busy motorways, just enjoying the Irish wind and all the scents she carried. They would stroll in through the rest stop parking lots, leaving their marks on car tires, then stroll back along the road again… home. They would sit among the sheep and cows, the farmers’ faithful eyes and ears.
I wish I could have captured more on film, but the memories have been captured in my heart.
Dogs lead a happy life in Ireland. Owners told us how they only get one bath a year, the oils in the fur actually protect them from the cold and wind of Ireland. (I could have used some of those oils, it was COLD). So, if stinky is the way you like to roll, then you’re a happy dog, that is for certain. I loved them all, even the stinky ones; may they all be warm against the fiercest Irish wind.
Pictured above is me and Oscar, one of those wolfhounds I would have liked to take home…….
He holds dominion over Cabra Castle grounds………
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