Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 16 degrees, warmish and overcast.
Saturday morning, the weather is a little iffy, but hopefully it will clear up so we can see the dogs.
Julie and I had arranged to visit a dog shelter to see some greyhounds, with the possibility of adopting one in the future. The shelter is on the other side of Wolverhampton. I did a rigorous exercise routine that left me feeling energised for the rest of the day. I had a coffee, cut my hair, took a shower, and was ready to meet these beautiful animals – so elegant, fast, and muscular.
The appointment with the Greyhound Trust was scheduled for 11 a.m. on the other side of Wolverhampton, in Shropshire, approximately 40 miles from our location. Julie picked me up a little before 10. We were on our way and entered the location into the car’s GPS.
We had to catch a part of the motorway, a dual carriageway, and then we got off. We were in the beautiful Shropshire countryside. We made some wrong turns on the way, but it was mostly easy to correct, and nobody died. At 5 to 11, we were pulling into the grounds of the trust.
There were some old farm buildings, which were obviously somebody’s home and office, and the main barn, as well as a shed that would be for the dogs. At the far end of the barn, there was a large farm gate to an open muddy field surrounded by a line of trees in the distance on the horizon.
A lady called Kirsty was already out to greet us. She told us about the dogs, and she was very informative, but a little snippy. We were unable to visit the kennels to see the dogs; instead, we would have to select a dog from the site or one of their recommendations, and they would bring the dog out for us to see.
We both thought this a little strange, but it was the way it was!!!
Julie asked for ‘Taurus’, a beautiful black greyhound that had had surgery on one of its back legs and was still recovering. Kirsty brought the dog out; it was with a muzzle, which initially surprised us, but after an explanation, I understood why.
‘Taurus’ was beautiful and quite affectionate, and like most of them, extremely calm and laid back, a lovely dog. We talked more with Kirsty, and she brought out ’ Woody’, a timid, introverted dog who was flinching at any movement all the time. His fur was a beautiful caramel Brindle, gorgeous and different from the other dogs, which are more commonly black.
Julie became emotional and began to cry as she identified with the dog, as it was shy, just like Julie, who also suffers from shyness. Kirsty offered for me to walk ‘Woody’ in the field, and I did. Then, Julie also had a go; she loved ‘Woody’, it was love at first sight for her.
As we were walking, ‘Woody’, there were 5 or 6 volunteers who were there to walk the dogs around the field. Each handler was leading a dog on a leash, and all the dogs had muzzles. It was an opportunity to see some of the other dogs, all beautiful animals looking for homes.
It breaks my heart!
Julie wanted to see all of them, and then Kirsty brought out ‘Hawk,’ and as the name suggests, a killer, but in a good sense. A white and brown-marked greyhound, much larger and stronger than the other dogs, to me, he was the most beautiful and impressive of all of them.
I could see myself having either ‘Woody’ because of Julie or ‘Hawk’ because of me, but really, any of the dogs would be a plus for any person or family.
We saw two or three other dogs that were very happy, boisterous, and communicative, so many beautiful and amazing dogs, which made it even more challenging to choose. On leaving, I asked Kirsty if there was a cafe or coffee shop nearby. She told us that the Holly Bush Garden Centre had a coffee shop and restaurant.
We put it into the car’s GPS, and again, we were off. In 10 minutes, with some other wrong turns, we were pulling into the garden centre.
An enormous garden centre, I have never been to one before, obviously because of living in Brazil for so long, and for me it was fascinating. Instead of going straight to the restaurant or the coffee shop, we walked around all the different areas of the centre, taking in everything related to the garden, including plants, garden furniture, and everything imaginable for the home. There was even an aquarium with koi carp and a reptile corner.
How crazy is that!
I recall when I was very young, around 8 or 9 years old, some of my friends on the street kept reptiles like snakes, spiders, or lizards as pets, which was fashionable at the time, and I believe the trend continues. We decided to have coffee and cake, and bought lavender for our mothers. After about an hour and a half, we set off again.
The next stop was Wolverhampton town centre. I told Julie that I hadn’t been to Wolverhampton town centre for over 30 years, and I was eager to have a walk around. We parked near the train station, and within 10 minutes, we reached the heart of the city, Main High Street, which I remembered from my childhood; now it is entirely different from what it was in the past.
People from around Wolverhampton, where my mother and Julie live, no longer truly like Wolverhampton’s city centre. I thought the town centre was relatively clean and well-organised, but what was odd was the people. You can’t tell whether they’re normal, on drugs, or drunk, and I believe the mix of ethnicities and social classes can be unsettling for many, especially conservative individuals.
We had intended to have lunch in the town centre, but we couldn’t find anywhere we liked. We entered an empty and very nice book shop. I don’t know if it was due to the time or the location, but in Rio, a bookshop of a similar level would be full of people, especially on a Saturday.
We walked around the town centre for almost an hour and then went back to the car. Alternatively, we could have a late lunch in a pub on the way back or visit Stourbridge. So, it was Stourbridge, there is an excellent pub with excellent food on the corner of the Old Wharf, called ‘The Old Wharf’, next to the canal. We arrived, parked the car, and upon entering the pub, we found out that the Kitchen was closed; it would only reopen in an hour and a half.
We couldn’t wait that long; we hadn’t eaten properly the whole day, and if Julie didn’t eat anything soon, she would probably begin to fight with me.
We walked into Stourbridge town centre and up the High Street. It was either going to be in ‘Sofia’ that we had gone to last week, or to ‘The Cock and Bull’, which I had been in for a quick drink a few times before beginning to go out with Julie. Still, Julie knows the people there as her daughter had worked there in the past.
So, it was ‘The Cock and Bull’, a small pub geared towards the young, with a crazy interior design, loud music, and a hunting ground for the single, free and easy. We found an enclosed cubicle-style table and benches. Julie ordered a selection of small dishes, and I ordered a chicken burger. I had the impression that her food was better than mine; my burger was good but a little cold – sacrilege for the English palate.
I had a glass of wine, and Julie had a lager with lime. We enjoyed a lovely time together, and after paying, we walked back to the car, and Julie dropped me off at home.
I was feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, as we had done so much in just a day: the dogs, the visit to the garden centre, wandering around Wolverhampton town centre, and finally having a late lunch—almost dinner—in Stourbridge at a lovely place with good food and excellent company.
I spent some time with my mother and then went upstairs to rest. Julie called me, and I was too tired to have a long conversation; we only talked for an hour this time.
In bed by 10:00 p.m. and wacked.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
