Daisy is our parsons jack russell.   She is a rescue dog and about four and a half years old.    She is a typical terrier and mostly wants to eat everything!   Birds, rabbits, squirrels, postmen, just kidding about the postmen, she has to my knowledge never seized a trouser leg in her life!    

We were told when we got her that she was a bolter and a jumper.    She has bolted on a number of occasions.  

The first time we had to resort to secateurs and the virtual felling of an entire hawthorn copse which we were forced to cut her out of.    This was on the Minnadu in Kingsand, Cornwall where we used to live.   From the bushes could be heard much rustling, numerous unrepeatable expletives, from my husband you understand, Daisy said nothing, and the crashing thud of a number of small falling trees!    We left a visible hole in the skyline for which I apologised to the spirits of the place for a very long time afterwards!      

The last time she made a dash for it was not long after we arrived here in Wiltshire.   I could hear my husband in the front garden chatting to her as you do when you have a dog, you know how it is, on the mellow evening of what had been a lovely sunny day.   Suddenly his shouts of ‘Daisy’ grew more urgent and higher in pitch.   I knew then she had made a run for it.     My husband, his name is Lee by the way, made off in hot pursuit wearing just his shorts and an exasperated expression.      I followed on rather forlornly clutching her lead.    As I passed along the hedgeline of our furthest neighbours garden, I could see a great deal of thrashing about going on in the midst of a group of small shrubs.     Lee had by this time made it, half naked, into the startled neighbours garden where he was just in time to extract Daisy unceremoniously by her tail from the jaws of a rabbit hole, amidst the aforementioned shrubs, before she disappeared completely from view!       She was in the dog house for some considerable time after that!    The neighbour probably required therapy after coming face to face with my husband in his semi-clad state.   I have, I am afraid, avoided them ever since!    

As for the jumping, that Daisy did just once!     In our old garden we had a wall which, from our side, appeared to be probably no more than two or three feet high.   However, on the other side it was quite a different story.   Kingsand, like so many old fishing villages in Cornwall, clings to the side of a very steep hill.   Consequently what looks like three feet from one side is probably a ten foot drop or more on the other.   Daisy made it into the next door neighbour’s garden, I’m afraid the initial impetus of her jump meant she could not avoid the consequence of her action but, having experienced a six foot drop, she never did it again!