Here, in an extra post, is all the stuff I couldn’t tell you without spoiling the grim and ghostly lighthouse atmosphere of today’s main post.
The sun was not in evidence, yet the dog needed walking.
The centre of all good holidays is motivation. Phil and I were sold on the Visiting A Desolate Lighthouse Used By Marconi project. The kids, not so much.
It was the advert for the South Foreland lighthouse which solved everything.
“Why not borrow a kite from us and get outdoors in the bracing sea air, or enjoy traditional games on the lawn?” it piped up, rallying the troops so that Felix was in the car before I had got to the advert’s full stop. Maddie was close behind.
Now. The dog.
There was a brisk walk across the fields to reach the lighthouse. But what to do with a spare dog when we wanted to tour it?
“Dogs welcome in the grounds. Dog loops and outside seating are available at the tearoom”, confirmed the site.
Dog loops?
Were there small tight round circles custom-built for wiry terriers just waiting for Macaulay to try them out?
No; They have places to tie dogs up while you potter round. I don’t like leaving the dog. But on a remote cliff top, away from crowds, in the fresh sea air, well: it just might work.
We found the place with little trouble. The lighthouse stands out in the landscape. We parked and walked and Macaulay sniffed and christened and disappeared joyfully into a field of some crop or other, tail serving as a dogmark. We recalled him hurriedly.
When we arrived, we went to reception. “Excuse me, I asked, “but where are your dog loops?”
Directions followed. Then I thought I’d chance my luck. “I don’t suppose,” I ventured, “we could leave him tied up outside your office?”
They were extremely nice. Of course, they said, tie him there, we can keep an eye on him.
The dog was not pleased. He was indignant. He was put out. His moustache said so. He yelped like a dog who has been trapped in a small room for a week. Where are you going? His non verbal language bawled. I’m over here!
We went. Into the lighthouse with its mercifully thick walls. We took the tour and ooh-ed and ahhed and looked at gas lamps and generators and heard about Marconi’s antics.
And then we got to the top.
And we looked , gingerly over the top to see how the dog was.
There he was, tied up outside reception. A tiny dog in a sea of turf and picnic tables. And within a tenth of a second his radar had located us, at the top of a Very Tall Tower.
He. Was. Outraged. Very small, a dot on the ground, but palpably outraged.
What do you think you are doing up there? He barked. What kind of a height do you call that? Call yourself dog owners?
He made such a furious fuss that we watched in chagrin as the kind National Trust ladies came out, untied him, and took him into reception.
We could do nothing. Imprisoned on our tour, we could only trail and count the seconds before we could go and retrieve our personal hairy bundle of fury.
Which we did.
He forgave us instantly on our return, of course, dogs do that. And then he helped us fly kites.
And as we left, we noted the next dog, tied up at the picnic tables as its owners travelled up lighthouse stairs, and far, far away.
Kate Shrewsday 
Oh no that is too funny! poor wee doggie! poor nice people! I am surprised that dog forgave you so fast! c
So am I. Though I don’t think he’ll forget, Celi!
poor Mac! but it was only for a short while.
The dog does not have a watch, Sidey 😀
true, and when you are yearning, each second is for ever
Poor Master Mac, so forlorn in the photo, they really do think they can go anywhere and do anything.
They do. How dare we even consider going up there without him? 😀
Poor wee pup. He really missed you.
He did. Kite flying helped smooth ruffled fur.
One minute Mac is lonely and furious with being left behind and the next, he’s eager to commiserate with a fellow pooch in the same predicament. He does seem to have excellent social skills. The colors on your kite look so vibrant at first I thought you had Photoshopped a cartoon kite into the image.
I know, it was such a strange effect, Lameadventures! The day was blank, it’s the only way I can describe it, and the kite anything but.
The kite one deserves a frame. The photo of Macaulay tied to the table is so forlorn.
Thank you, Andra! He was forlorn indeed there, so far removed from his family…
I didn’t see him at first, not until you pointed him out, and yes, he looks very indignant even from the top of a lighthouse.
The outrage was palpable, Rosemary 😀
Poor ickle wuffikins, or as one would say in SA, ‘Ag, (och) shame!’
It’s ages since I have heard the SA ‘shame’ Col – I miss it 🙂
😀
One smart doggie you have there. He knew kicking up a fuss would get him loads of attention from those caring ladies!
Clearly you know your dogs, Ellie. You have summed up the situation….
Awwww!
😀
Mine would have chewed through their leashes 🙂
Put like that, he seems quite a placid docile soul, Tandy!
I’ve known similar mortifying abused, abandoned doggie barking moments. But I like towers, I’ve never been up a lighthouse though. 🙂
If you ever get the chance, it’s worth it, IE 🙂
Poor Mac!
We flew kites on holiday but our l showed no interest at all.m
I think he was just so grateful to be back in the thick of things, Tilly!
Oh my goodness! He is such a part of the family he couldn’t imagine not taking that lighthouse tour, could he? Bless his little canine heart. The reunion must have been quite special. Ha! D
He was beside himself, Debra!
Our pets do have a unique way of communicating their displeasure … and their great joy.
They do: and we saw both that afternoon, Judy!
“He was put out. His moustache said so.”
Oh, Macaulay. And yet they forgive and go on to fly kites.
What do you think you are doing up there? He barked. What kind of a height do you call that? Call yourself dog owners?
😀