Scents and Insensibility

When it comes to ‘hooters’ the one that completes the snout of the boy Bing can be described as a sensitive piece of apparatus, beautifully tuned to all the possible scents that are missed by we mere mortals!

This day we have been making particularly slow progress along the pavement leading to the forest, where, history states Queen Elizabeth I, hunted. To corroborate this, her hunting lodge resides across the trees towards North Chingford.

We definitely won’t be travelling that far today!

This A.M. for once, the lad is being unexpectedly slow in his progress, and I’m enjoying the stately pace we’re making. The ‘hooter’ of renown, is being extraordinarily thorough in its research. New blooms are in flower, and various types of grasses are obviously affording delightful odours to the receiving ‘conk!’

Finally, we have reached the slope that’ll gain us access to our usual entry point into the forest of Epping. I’m relieved we're taking this at a gentle stroll, the ‘nose’ in front taking as much care as a minesweeper!

‘So Bing what is it that you’re finding so invigorating this merry morn?’

I receive a wag of the tail but no words.

‘Is it the flowers, the grasses or, that newly mown lawn perchance? Could it possibly be young lad, the breeze wafting delicate odours from the newly grown leaves from trees and shrubs?’

I’m starting to feel quite Keats or Tennyson like, as I search for more piquant phrases to capture the joy of this spring filled scene. Suddenly the ‘snozzle’ is thrust into the lower realms of the privet hedge on one side of the path.

Muffled comments such as ‘ah yes this is it’ and ‘I can’t quite get at it.’ Waft up from the two thirds of hound I can see.

‘Bing are you alright?’

Slowly, dare I say reluctantly, the lad reverses out, and sits, ‘hooter’ wrinkling in my direction.

‘Guv it’s an absolute corker of a pong!’

‘Pong, Bing? Surely pong is really not the most suitable epithet for the delights afforded us this spring filled day?’

‘Well old poop, flowers and grass are one thing, but the scents coming off that barbecue through there, are a delightful combination of charcoal, delicately merged with bangers, burgers and suchlike!’

Disappointment was clearly etched upon my visage. I felt rather like a balletomane who, having sat patiently waiting with great expectation, is suddenly served up with a large navvy, clumping his way through a grotesque account of the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

My disappointment was observed by the lad, he gave me a wink and said.

‘Guv, I am after all a hound, and there are certain matters I’m afraid an old poop like you will never really understand.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, it’s true old huff and puff. You, as soon as a touch of warmth is felt in the air, will wax lyrical about the joys of the season.

‘Yes?’

‘Certainly guv, certainly. Whereas chaps like me have centuries of specialist breeding, meaning our hooters are, our livelihood.’

‘Livelihood?’ (I was loosing the thread here.)

‘Yes.’

My imbecilic gaze was duly noted, and the lad pressed on.

‘Let us say, for the sake of argument, that Good Queen Bess was clattering around here, sitting side-saddle upon her trusty steed. Now, during the chase, various birds and game, have been felled with Hawks and arrows and such, and we hounds are sent out to bring ‘em in.’

‘Y-es?.’

‘Now picture the scene, guv…..let me, as the bard would say, on your imaginary forces work. What would her majesty’s reaction be, if a chap like me came trundling back with a mouthful of buttercups, or cow parsley and said……Oh Queeny, ain’t these sweet smelling nosegays a delight?’

‘Ah.’

‘Ah indeed guv! Cor she’d say it’s straight to the tower for you me lad!’

‘I see.’

‘Replace the game birds with the scent from a barbecue or old takeaway and there you have it!’

‘I see.’

‘Do you guv?’

‘I do Bing.’

‘Don’t be disappointed old poop, remember I too like smelling flowers and so fourth, but…….’

　
His words faded away for we had entered the ancient forest. Here we started our gentle promenade, birds twittering as we strolled between the trees, whose earlier relatives, long, long ago……………

had looked upon a Sovereigns progress.