HARVEY
Harvey was Jackie’s dog but, once J and I started dating, Harvey and I formed a bond of the like I had never experienced before and, from day one, he was never ‘just a pet’. Rather, from day one, Harvey made the decision that he and I were good for each other … and he was right.
Harvey associated me with … walking the cliffs, swimming at the beach or hunting for medieval bottles and artifacts on the bends of rivers and, although Jackie and I pursued such kingfisher days as a couple, together, Jackie, Harvey and I were a trio exploring the wilds of West Dorset together.
The first time I recognised Harvey’s character was within weeks of first asking Jackie out.
We used to wade, calf deep, in the river behind her house, digging up old bottles, (with marbles in them), or locating shards of 17th – 18th century pottery and plates from beneath the gravel on or under the banks of the river.
Harvey’s actions made me exclaim, “Look, Jack. Look what he is doing”.
Harvey was copying us, digging in the shallows, snout underwater, pawing and digging though the gravel. tongue out, head down … enjoying the afternoon doing exactly what we were doing.
A cool crisp pint of lager awaits so I shall be brief but would love to share one little story about Harvey with you. (I have scores).
Mid 80s. The local radio had reported that an extremely rare flock of birds had been sighted on the fleet lagoon near Weynouth but that wasn’t the main story, (as far as the radio station was concerned).
The big story was that scores, possibly hundreds of ‘Twitchers’, (Folk fascinated by viewing rare birds), who had travelled hundreds of miles to actually witness this rare bird event reportedly located at the backwater lagoon behing Chesil Beach.
Jackie and I obviously thought that was a good excuse to drive along the scenic coast road from Bridport to Weymouth to see the spectacle for ourselves … and, of course, we took Harvey with us.
When we got to the location, a fabulous and idylic water setting located betwixt the land, (and civilisation), on the right and the looming (back side of), chesil beach on the left, we parked on the flatland and noted that it was low tide in the lagoon.
Then we saw the Twitchers … 60 – 70 individuals, 200 yards away out on the flat mud of the tidal lagoon.
Tents, telescopes, binoculars, tripods …
A lot of dedicated people!
All Twitchers. All looking in towards the low tide mark where, presumably, the rare birds were located.
Jackie and I innocently decided to go for a walk, towards all the folk spying on this, allegedly, wonderous sight.
And, obviously, Harvey came with us … except he didn’t.
Harvey had his own plans.
Before we knew it, Harvey was a hundred yards ahead of us, running flat out towards the low water mark and, as he reached it, (heart set on catching the wildlife he had obviously spotted), Jackie and I saw a dark cloud of life take off and throw itself into the sky like a pack of cards thrown into the wind.
“Oh my God”, I shouted … before adding, “Love. I think we better get back to the car”.
I screamed at Harvey, he dutifully began his trek back to us and, by the time we scrambled into the vehicle and clicked the keys in the ignition, we could see, what looked like, an angry mob gathering up their tents, telescopes, binoculars and tripods … heading our way.
The rare birds event was over … courtesy of Harvey’s enthusiasm to put himself squarely in the frame.
I’m not saying we escaped by the skin of our teeth but I am saying it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to be in that car park when the Twitchers got there.
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