Finn Explains What He's Doing On A Website

Why is a hairy dog writing a column on a food and travel website? You may well ask. 

I did. 

It seems old Hesp was told that if he managed to get a nice looking pet on his pages, he’d get lots more visits to the website. So here I am. That old bugger will stop at nothing if he thinks he can make it work in his own interests.

So now our editorial meeting happens on the daily walks we share - although really, of course, it has always been the case that we four-legged ones are taking the two-legged creatures out for the exercise, rather than the other way around. 

Not that we do much in the way of editorial planning. When I asked old Hesp what I should be writing about, he just said: “Anything! Anything that comes into that woolly head of yours.”

He changed that to “that handsome head of yours” when I pointed out I wouldn’t be doing any favours for someone so horribly rude. 

Anyway, all this writing lark - using the special canine-translation head-band we have - is not as easy as it sounds. Not as easy as dear old Monty used to find it, that’s for sure. He had a way with words - which is why his newspaper columns became so popular right across the South West of England.

There is no doubt that he was the best known dog West of Bristol- and arguably the best-known lurcher anywhere. And the popularity arose because…. Well, he was just unbelievably good at composing words.

He once told me he could knock out a 900-word newspaper column in 30 minutes. Which was - and is - amazing. Because it takes old Hesp an hour - and that is after 45 years in the journalism trade. 

Me? Well, I’m new to all this. And perhaps His Lordship was right when he called me woolly headed. Cos, I kind of, am.

But, who knows? I might get the swing of it. And I’ll have to, because old Hesp reckons that now he’s no longer working 24/7 for a newspaper, I am going to have to earn my keep. 

Until very recently he seemed content to have me around as a kind of Court Jester. “You make me laugh Finnie…” is what he used to say after coming out of that office of his where he’d written yet another 5000 words on what he called “conveyor belt journalism”.

In fact, he once wrote an entire newspaper column about a high octane adventure sport I used to enjoy called cliff jumping. Although the old columnist called it: “Bungee jumping without a bungee.”

I don’t do it quite so often nowadays after I picked up a few bumps and bruises, but it used to be my great thrill and joy to leap off certain low cliffs that we come across on our daily walks in this valley. It’s amazing! A real adrenalin rush…

As you plummet downwards you have to very quickly find your balance and work out a few jumping-off points on the way down. A rocky spur here. A tree trunk there. 

If you get the cliff-jump just right you can find yourself 50 metres down a steep gradient in just a few leaps and bounds. Fabulous! It’s elegant and cool. It’s acrobatic and energising.

And then, when you’re a powerful hound with a low centre of gravity like me, you can leap and bound your way right back up that slope - seemingly defying gravity as you go. 

How cool is that? 

Many is the time I’ve heard Hespie mutter: “Blimey Finno! You’re a wonder beast. Perhaps you’re some new kind of breed no one’s ever heard of before - a cliff-canine.”

Alas, he has no video of my in cliff-jumping action. I told him I want paying proper danger money for film work. It’s all very well me knocking out the Finn Files for a can of dog food per item, but performing in front pf a camera has to be worth a lot more than that. And old Hesp simply hasn’t got the money. 

But here’s a film of me out on rabbit patrol in our valley - which is obviously by far the most important thing I do…