Caesar the Bongonaut

So, since our trip to Wales, I've been thinking carefully about holidaying with dogs and I've finally come to a conclusion that I feel suits me.  

Reasons I'm not sold on holiday rentals (static caravans, cottages, lodges or hotel rooms).

1.  You cannot leave your dogs unattended

2.  Many rentals like you to clean up before you leave - this means spending your holiday hoovering up dog hair.

3.  Many rentals in the UK are very expensive

4.  There's often a limit to the amount of animals you can take.

5.  Some specify that dogs must be 'small' or 'well behaved' (define well behaved?!)

6.  You cannot guarantee that your dog won't damage something - even if it's by accident.

7.  Dogs are not usually allowed in certain rooms (e.g. the bedroom) for hygiene reasons.

8.  You have that awkward moment when you arrive and your dog has been cooped up in a car for 4 hours and needs a wee/drink/poo/mad half hour/good bark/bit of human company.  And you're worried that s/he does any or all of the above in front of the owners.

'But what about my bedtime snuggles?'

The Plan

So after travelling the 250 miles back from Wales in my lovely reliable Vauxhall Zafira family MPV, I decided that I wanted a camper van.  Here's my reasoning (in relation to the above):

1.  As with a car, as long as conditions are cool and dogs have water, it's OK to leave your dog in a camper van for short periods of time.  I'm not suggesting going shopping for the day and leaving a dog locked inside a VW transporter but certainly a trip to the shop for milk should be fine (as long as it's not too hot outside.

2.  Its your van - clean it and feel proud or leave it and hope no one asks to look inside...it's your call and you do it on your terms...

3.  Barring the initial cost of buying a campervan (which I intended to swap for my permanent car) camping should not be too expensive.  And you can get a pitch on a decent site for one night for as low as £10.

4.  You can take as many dogs as you like to most dog friendly sites as long as they are under control.

5.  The vast majority of sites that are 'dog friendly' care very little what your dog is like as long as it's not disturbing fellow campers.

6.  If your dog damages something in your camper van then it's yours and you replace it if and when you want to.

7.  Your can sleep with as many dogs in your bed as you wish!

8.  On some sites, you can arrive and pitch up, take your dogs to the loo etc before you pay for your pitch.  Although there is still the danger of someone coming over when your dog is going through there 'just been stuck in the car for 4 hours...' routine.

My Love Hate Relationship

I have very mixed experiences of camping.  I remember camping all over England and France as a child in a caravan.  We loved it!  It was always warm and we played until the sun went down every night.  Then, we came in and sat at collapsible tables with decks of cards and mugs of hot chocolate and on a Sunday morning we woke up late and had a fried breakfast.  Then we played some more.

In my early 20s, my grandad donated a tent he'd found to me and my partner.  Our plan was to travel Europe with only said tent and a 1l VW Polo.  Actually, we got as far as Whitby and hated how cold it was.  We did make one trip to France in it and after 4 days of camping and discovering that we had limited budget for food, no means of entertainment when the dark nights set in at 9 o'clock and that it wasn't as warm in Paris in August as we had hoped, I cried and said I wanted to go home.  The holiday lasted 10 days.  And I never went in the tent again...

I don't mind this type of tent...the type that's inside and next to a radiator...

The Van Plan

I have to admit; I've never been the most confident driver and, in recent years, my confidence seems to have dropped more.  It's not because anything has really ever happened to me while driving.  Mainly, it's because I tend to drive to work (2 miles away) and back a few times a week and, as risk of sounding like my gran, sometimes to the shops.  So that pretty much ruled out the idea of buying a caravan because I'd be too frightened to tow it.  Also, my excuse to most other people, I sometimes struggle to park my own car at my house due to all parking being on street so I certainly would struggle to park a caravan here.  Therefore, I'd need to park the caravan away from home and pay for it.  I didn't want to do this for 2 reasons:

1.  It would cost me more money again

2.  Once my parents did this and several incidents occurred:  someones caravan was stolen, as it was on a farm, they came back once to find a family of field mice nesting in the overhead compartment,  And finally, the icing on the cake, the farm got foot and mouth and no one was allowed to remove their caravan from it for almost a year!  By which time, they'd discovered that package holidays were usually better...

OK, so I wasn't sold on caravanning and many of these limitations also applied to large motorhomes and trailer tents.  And never again in my life do I ever want to attempt to camp in a tent and especially not with a dog that howls when it's cold.

So that left me looking at vans and van conversions.  Firstly, VW transporters; lovely cars but totally out of my price range.  Secondly, Transit Vans; I did go and see one but felt they were too wide to parallel park on a road full of cars.  Also...it just wasn't cool.  This is when I discovered the Mazda Bongo.  For those of you who are not familiar here are a few fast facts about Bongos:

1.  The Mazda Bongo is an 8 seater van which is available for purchase in Japan.  They have never been officially sold in the UK so all available vans have been imported.

2.  The rear 6 seats fold down into a bed.

3.  On some models there is a 'pop top' which raises to make a sleeping space for 2 which can be accessed through a hatch.

4.  They're around the same width as a normal car but taller and longer.

5.  They have a cult-like following that makes you feel like your part of a group.

Mr Caesar and Mr Bennett

Mr Bennett the Bongo

A few weeks after making my decision to buy a Bongo and struggling wildly to get a decent one, I bumped into a nice chap online who was considering selling his.  He invited me to come and look at it and I knew the moment I set eyes on it that it was my Bongo.  Luckily, I persuaded him to part with it.  And so my Bongo experience began.  I decided to call it 'Mr Bennett' although I usually call my cars girls names because 'Bennett' means 'blessed' and because I feel that any camper van that has to house 2 adults and 3 dogs needs to be!

Mr Bennett in York

Unfortunately for me, I purchased Mr Bennett at the end of the summer and had little time to organise camping trips in him.  However, the weekend past, I decided to give it a go.  I wanted everything to be perfect and refused to go anywhere that had a poor forecast or bad reviews.  I eventually chose a 'Wagtail Park' in York.  And Caesar and I took off on our adventure.  We were to meet my parents there.

The Bongo fit Caesar's XL cage in wonderfully and did not prevent the back seats from being used (as happened in my previous car).  Although I did bash the plastic as I put it in (oops).  I got Caesar settled with his travel bowl of water and blankets.  He was quiet for the fill hour and a half journey.

All set up and ready to go...

  

At Wagtail Park

Arriving at Wagtail Park (<-- link), we met the owner - Caesar was whining and whimpering a bit because we stopped but shutting the doors made me realise that you can't hear him from outside the van.  The owner asked me to make sure he was kept on a lead and that all 'oopsies' were picked up and put in the dog bins around site.  We found a very quiet corner with no cars for miles and pitched up there.  By 'pitched up' I actually mean 'parked the van' for that is all I had to do.  

For anyone who is camping with dogs, Wagtail Park is a nice big site with all the facilities to meet your basic needs: nice clean toilets, washing up facilities, waste disposal and a nice small to medium sized fishing lake for anyone who is interested.  Caravans, motorhomes, camper vans and tents are all welcome and pitches have lights and electricity.  We paid £20 per night, which I felt was very reasonable.

What's going on out there?

On the doggy side, there's a nice little wander around the lake and lots of space on site.  On the personal side; the showers are amazing and the toilet block is lovely and clean (the fishermen have their own toilet I noticed).  There are even little details like washing up liquid and towels provided to make everything easier.

Caesar the Camper Van Dog

Now to the main point (sorry it took so long).  Caesar.  I had worried that this first experience may be a disaster.  That a few weeks down the line I'd be advertising a 'Mazda Bongo for Sale' and keeping hold of my good old reliable Zafira.  And, Caesar had a big part to play in this.  If he doesn't like something, he can make my life a nightmare.  He can cry and howl and bark and bang scratch and carry on for hours on end - he never tires!  

It was partly due to this that my mum and I almost had an argument about my meticulousness about where and when to go and how warm the weather forecast must predict the weather to be before I will commit to the mini-break.  The weather for York looked good.  However the forecast was sadly wrong and it ended up drizzling most of the time anyway!  I had been concerned that this would ruin our holiday but I was very wrong.  My parents showed me that, unlike tent camping, you can get inside your van and put a heater on.  Or, if you have one, you can erect an awning and sit in there away from the wind and rainy weather.  We were even able to put a little heater in the awning to keep us all toasty warm.  In fact, at one point, it got so warm that we had to turn it off!

Sleeping was great too.  Caesar and I jumped aboard (after putting an air bed on the folding beds in the boot) and fell sound asleep.  The only issue was when I needed the toilet but it was that comfortable inside, I couldn't have bribed Caesar to leave - he just stayed cuddled under the double duvet!  

It's fair to say that Caesar took to camping like a duck to water.  And, even made me really proud when I accidentally left the crate door open in the dark and he followed me round to the side of the van and sat by my legs - I didn't know he was there until I tripped over him!  

Who would have thought it?  Caesar, a natural camper van dog!

Out and About in York.

On Saturday, due to the ever so slightly dodgy weather, we caught the 'Park and Ride' bus into York.  Caesar wasn't sold on the idea of bus travel but did make a lot of new friends on the bus who thought he was very cute in his sheep jumper and kept talking to him and reassuring him.  The same has to be said for York city centre, where lots of people stopped me to ask about him and pat him and wonder why he was shaking - don't we all?  We had dinner at a little outdoor cafe near to the river and watched members of York Rowing Club row up and down on their long boats.  Caesar was great, especially considering that there were other dogs running around - sometimes off lead.  Actually, he was so great that another, unsuspecting, couple with a dog decided to come and sit next to us which, as you can probably guess, caused much stress - more to me than Caesar whom I had to bribe with cake to keep quiet.  Finally, we decided to go when he barked at a small terrier carrying a huge lump of wood that everyone was 'awww'ing at.  And made him drop his wood and run away (oh no!).

Camping With a Dog - My Findings

The purpose of my initial camping trip was to determine the answers to the following questions:

1.  Would I enjoy camping?

2.  Would Caesar enjoy camping?

3.  What did I NEED if I was going to go on camping holidays with the dog?

Morning weather check...looks a bit rainy...but it's warm in here!

I have compiled a list of what I feel are necessities for camping with a dog, particularly a difficult dog like Caesar:

1.  A camping electric extension with a trip (for safety).  Electric items could also be run from a leisure battery but my research has led me to believe that this is an easier option by far.

2.  A heater - although, surprisingly for the end of September, we did not use ours for the first night.

3.  Towels!!!  - More than you think you need because they come in handy for things such as cleaning up cans of Coke that Caesar has knocked over all over the centre console...  And also for things like drying paws before bedtime.  And for putting on the floor in the showers - so take more than you think you need.

4.  Baby wipes - useful for many of the above reasons and more!  Also useful for cleaning mucky dogs paws quickly.

5.  Some form of enclosure of crate.  Caesar is a jumper and not the warm snuggly type that you wear in winter.  He's the type that launches 6 foot over a fence to chase a dog.  So I'm much happier having him enclosed within a crate (which effectively has a roof).  Although I am also attempting to use windbreaks to create an enclosure type effect that Caesar can't see through.

6.  Something to tie your dog to.  Whether it be (in my case) bull bars or some type of ground peg.  Something solid and safe where you know you can leave your dog while you sort out the interior of your van for bed time.

7.  An awning!  I came home and immediately bought one after seeing the benefit of having my parents' awning space.  We managed to fit in a kitchen unit, tables, 3 large chairs and a rather large boisterous Caesar and it didn't feel at all cramped.  I've fallen in love with the ease of air awnings and I treated myself to a Vango Kela (well worth it I think).

8.  An open mind - When I left, I had a cold, and I was worried about rain and was feeling concerned about leaving the warmth of my lovely house to spend one of my precious autumn weekends in the back of a van.  What I found is that I had an absolutely wonderful time with lots to do.  And Caesar, once again, exceeded my expectations with great behaviour, minimum whining and not disrupting everyone on the site.

Conclusion: As long as you're warm and comfortable, camping is great!

Hopefully, you should hear more of Caesar's Bongo adventures in the coming months!

Thanks for reading - leave a comment or simply 'like' at the top of the post!

Manchester Dogs' Home Disaster

It seemed wrong that we let a disaster that is this close to our hearts go by without comment or respect so our post this month is in response to the terrible event.  For those who are unfamiliar with the horrific incident that occurred at this rescue centre, here is a link to a news article on the matter: News Report From Manchester Evening News.

It seems that the recent news has been showered with examples of how evil the human race can be.  In fact, I've taken to changing the channel every time the radio announces a news broadcast; ignorance is bliss after all.  And, while I'm concerned that if we don't all die of the latest infectious virus, or in a nuclear war, we'll probably be mauled by a police dog or stabbed by a junkie.  And we wonder why almost 10% of the population is suffering from depression and anxiety? (The Fundamental Facts, Mental Health Foundation, Link Here, 2007).

Anyhow, no matter how I try to avoid it, the important stuff leaks it's way through.  So it was through Facebook that I first heard about the disaster.  The fact that over 50 dogs have died already is beyond a tragedy.  However what is, perhaps, worse is that these were 50 dogs who, for whatever reason, were looking for a fresh start.

Anyone who has gone through the process of adopting a pet will know how it brings out emotions that you never expected to feel.  If you get lucky, you get an easy ride.  A dog that has few issues and settles into your home quickly.  However the reality is that most rescue dogs bring with them their own baggage - and I don't mean a doggy suitcase with food and a blanket.  These issues could be the reason that they found themselves in a kennel in the first place or it could be the result of a trauma that they suffered by being abandoned or neglected or abused.

When I visited the shelter where I adopted Caesar, I could not believe some of the horror stories.  In fact, it seems that Caesar got off fairly lightly as far as some of the dogs were concerned.  In the short time I was there, I saw a dog who had been living out of bins and was so malnourished that he had been brought in on the brink of death, a dog that had been found in a shed in someones back garden; unfed and uncared for.  Another that had been taken by social services along with the family's children; there was evidence to show that the dog had been kicked and every bone poked through her thin skin.  I'd like to tell you that these were extreme cases but you'd only have to look on any rescue centre's website to find that, unfortunately, they're not.  What's worse, some pounds will sell dogs for money with no home check on the owner and risk putting them in the same position that they found themselves in before.  Or, dogs are brought back into the kennels for reasons so petty that they hardly qualify as an excuse.  I've bared witness to these 'reasons' and I don't even work at a rescue centre or pound.

It wasn't just 50 dogs that died in the fire.  It was 50 chances to build something amazing.  50 blank slates waiting to start their lives again.  Waiting for a better home, for a better life and for someone who would keep them safe and care for them.  The heartbreaking thing is; they were almost there.  They'd already been taken from their sheds, back rooms, skips and owners who did not have the time or heart for them.  They'd made it further than some dogs could ever dream to come.  They were somewhere where they were supposed to be safe and loved.  They had a name and a bed.

I want to think that the incident was not further proof of the evil of which human kind is capable.  I want to think that it was some horrific accident.  And that an explanation will come.  But, in truth, the majority of the dogs in rescue centres are proof enough that the world we hear about on the news, the world that I try to block out for my own sanity, is becoming more and more out of control.  Just weeks ago, I accidentally heard a story on the news of a horse being attacked by a man with a knife.  I thought to myself 'what is this world coming to?'  Who would stab an innocent animal?  To me, it is crimes like this - crimes that cannot possibly have a sane motive and that affect the defenseless and the innocent that make my blood boil.

So here we are.  50 dogs murdered and a charity building that works every day and night to give them a chance at a new life, burnt to the ground.  I'd like to be able to offer some comforting words.  Or, at the very least, some reassurance but I can't.  All I can say is that I'm glad the number of good people donating, helping and of course the two men who ran into the building to save the dogs from certain death, exceeds the number of terrible people who caused such a terrible incident to occur (one).  And, I hope that, wherever that person is, just like the dogs trapped in those burning kennels, he feels very very alone.

And to all the dogs that died, who have remained nameless and lost forever, we are truly sorry that you didn't get the second chance that you deserved.

If you'd like to help:
Donate to Manchester Dogs' Home here


A wonderful channel from a centre called 'Hope For Paws' in America gives some good examples of some of the work that faces rescue centres today.  They have a YouTube channel and it's definitely worth a watch (tissues first)! Hope For Paws on YouTube

'No bother...'

It was early evening and my Grandma was about to leave.  We'd spent all day cleaning and tidying and mopping and dusting.  "He's no bother, is he?" she said, gesturing to Caesar as we drained the dregs of our tea.  This statement was loaded.  When I say 'loaded', I don't mean in an unkind way with accusations or false sentiment.  But, a reflection of the time and improvement he has made and a question hanging in the air 'when?' - when did he become so....fine?!

When did he grow up so much?

When I brought Caesar home from the shelter, my grandparents were two of the first people I took him to see.  They live a short walk from my parents and it was important to me that, as dog lovers themselves, they like Caesar.  So, I knocked on the back door that Sunday afternoon and greeted them wholeheartedly hoping that Caesar would make a good impression.  And, to put it bluntly; he was bothersome!  He would not sit still, he ran up and down their kitchen boisterously, almost knocking my gran off her feet, and then, as if that were not enough, he jumped up at units and tried to steal food. 

In the dog house for being naughty!

A few months later, my Grandad had offered to come and help me plant some nice flowers in my garden.  Kindly, he had donated geraniums and dahlias from his own cuttings and helped me to put them, in their pots in the soil planter at the rear of the yard.  Caesar sat nicely and carefully watched as we planted each geranium and I began to feel as if he may be making a positive impression on Grandad.  You see, Grandad has set ideas about things like dogs; he thinks females are more loyal and 'less bother' and so, before we adopted him, Caesar already had the odds stacked against him.  But today I felt good.  "Good lad," I told him as we stood back to admire our work.  And then I went inside to make a cup of tea.  What ensued, can only be described as 'the great geranium massacre.'  In the minutes it took me to get two cups out of the cupboard and put them on the worktop, all hell had broken loose outside!  

I could hear Grandad shouting so I dumped the cups and ran outside.  This is what I found:

Caesar was jumping on and off the planter at an unstoppable speed!  At small intervals, he was digging a hole and pulling a geranium out of the garden.  Some geraniums were flying into heaps, some were buried under mounds of soil!  And Caesar, was an uncontrollable mess of paws and tongue that could neither be caught or calmed.  Grandad threw his trowel down in the soil and heaved a heavy sigh.  I won't repeat his words about Caesar.  Needless to say, he still prefers female dogs. and has never offered me geraniums since!

My garden - my planter!  

Back in the present day, while we were tidying my Grandma received a phonecall.  He neighbours had lost their old dog.  I remember the dog well as she would often wander round for a fuss or some food on hot summer days when she was supposed to be in the garden.  I was a mere 10 when the family adopted the puppy who had been found tied to a lamppost.  The topic, as is natural turned to our own experiences of this, 'I will find it hopelessly hard when Caesar's time comes' I told her.  What I didn't say is that sometimes I lie awake at night looking at him and worrying about it - his mere 6 years of age only making it harder as I realise the potential of our time together to quintuple!  And our bond too.

We began to talk about mine and Caesar's unlikely bond.  He was not the dog that I had wanted when I arrived at the shelter and I never make a secret of that.  It was Damien who was set on him and would not consider any other dog.  And, I'm pleased that my naivety and judgement were overpowered by my desire to have a dog...any dog.  But our bond began to grow from a few days into our relationship where I felt as unsure about him as he did about me.  We gained a sort of understanding 'we're both OK as long as we know where the other is.'  And, as long as I go out at the same time and return at the same time, he won't destroy my house (much).  

In our house he's more of a free spirit but at other houses he likes to keep me in his sights.  A sort of comfort blanket I suppose.  And that's OK, because I like to keep him in mine too!  And, if I leave him, he'll kick up a fuss as if to say 'you broke the rules'.  And so when I walked out of the door with my purse in my hand leaving him with my grandma, I completely forgot about the silent rule book.  That was until I was half way to the shop.  I felt a little wave of panic overcome me as I crossed the road; what if he wasn't coping?  What if he was scaring my grandma with his odd noises and behaviour?  What if he'd panicked?

I almost sprinted back from the shop.  I'd left the pair for almost half an hour.  And I have to admit I was afraid of what I might come back to.  I knocked on the door and a little face appeared in the window; it was Caesar.  He whined a little and looked around.  I held my breath.  I knocked again.  When I thought about it, Caesar hadn't been left anywhere for a little while.  Last time I tried to leave him with dad, he didn't like it.  He whined and cried and carried on and dad got quite annoyed with him.  'I should have left him in the garden,' I thought.  But it was too late.  Finally, from another room, I saw Grandma walking toward me.  I felt my heart return to it's normal position and I resumed breathing.  "How's he been?"  - "no bother." 

Caesar getting comfortable at my grandparents' house

So there we have it - somewhere between the Great Geranium Tragedy of 2012 and today, Caesar has found a place where he is beginning to feel secure.  Secure being left in a place other than home with someone other than me, secure in spending the day tottering around after me and my marigolds and secure in the knowledge that I will not leave him.  I know that it's not a profound breakthrough and perhaps there's not much to take away from this post.  They say that time is a healer and I'm sure that time has enabled Caesar to feel more comfortable.  He had to work to feel comfortable around me and now he is working to feel comfortable away from me.