Where Wolsey’s Adventures Began

Wolsey’s Adventures began long before I ever wrote a word.

More than twenty years ago, I was living in a detached timber-framed house in a small Suffolk village – the same village that would later inspire Foxtail Green. We’d been away from home for a while, and that Saturday I had a long list of chores to get through. Wolsey, as usual, was somewhere in the back garden. Or so I thought.

In the middle of my dusting and cleaning, there was a knock at the door. A neighbour from across the road and up a small lane stood there with Wolsey, holding him on one of her own dog leads. I was astonished. How had he escaped? How long had he been gone? Where had he wandered?

She told me she’d spotted him trotting up the lane, barking at nothing in particular, and looking as though he was having “quite the adventure.” Later, I realised that I must have left the garden gate slightly ajar – just enough for my curious little chap to slip through.

But her choice of words stayed with me.

An adventure?

What kind of adventure was it? And was it real, or simply real to him?

I always wondered what went on in Wolsey’s mind. I would see him twitching in his sleep, clearly dreaming of chasing birds or rabbits. Sometimes he would stare out of the window at nothing at all yet growl with intent. Once he even barked at the staircase when absolutely nothing was there. I began to wonder whether, from Wolsey’s point of view, the world was completely different to the one I saw. A bird might be a conniving thief. A kindly neighbour could be a witch plotting mischief. The ordinary world might look very different through a dog’s eyes.

That moment became the seed of the stories I eventually wrote, a few years later, on a small WordPress blog. I wrote them for no one in particular, although I gathered a modest following through Twitter (as it was then known). At the time, I published the tales under the name Percy because the real Wolsey was still very much alive, and it didn’t feel right to use his name.

Now, years on, I want to keep his spirit alive. These stories are my way of doing that: they exist as a tribute to the curious, determined little dog who sparked them all and whose name I still hold with love and affection.