Dartmoor Delights & Canine Capers: A Photographer's Tale of Sunshine, Showers, and Spirited Pups

Well, blow me down, if the weather gods weren't playing a bit of a cruel joke that week. We'd been swanning about, absolutely basking in what could only be described as truly glorious sunshine, the kind that makes you forget what misery feels like. So, naturally, we packed our bags, filled our flasks, and headed for Dartmoor first thing Sunday morning, visions of sun-drenched rambles dancing in our heads. And what did we get? A radical, utterly impudent change of heart from the heavens. The sort of damp, dispiriting grey that makes you want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head. We squelched our way back to the car, defeated and thoroughly soggy, unanimously agreeing that a do-over was in order.

And so, Sunday, bless its reliable heart, rolled around once more. This time, things were looking decidedly up. Our star of the show, a distinguished model named Pip, was practically vibrating with anticipation. You see, she'd endured the particular indignity of being unceremoniously hauled out of the car the previous weekend, only to be dragged back in five minutes later, still sniffing the moorland air with a hopeful nostril.

Now, Pip, being of a certain vintage, took it all in her stride. She posed on demand, radiated a serene contentment, and generally seemed to be having the time of her life. And I, clearly lulled into a dangerous sense of complacency by this relaxed session, was about to be rudely awakened. Because Pip, as it turned out, had a considerably younger sister, a boisterous little number by the name of Purdy. And Purdy, it quickly became apparent, was rather less enamoured with the prospect of having a camera lens pointed squarely in her direction. An objection, I might add, that she voiced with all the enthusiastic indignation of a startled badger whenever I dared lift the camera. But necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention. A strategic retreat, a flick of the camera to silent mode, and the deployment of a longer lens meant Purdy could enjoy her walk, blissfully unburdened by the photographic gaze, and we, in turn, snagged some truly splendid, natural-looking images. Proof, if ever it were needed, that even the most obstreperous subjects can be won over with a bit of cunning and a longer lens.