Stanton Bed & Breakfast

When our good friend and photographer, Alan Lesheim, visited to take these shots, we had trouble in moving beyond the garden after placing the cane lounge in front of the lilac tree.

I suggested bringing some glasses and a nice bottle of something as props, but Alan reckoned that we’d never get anything done if that happened (either that or the photo would have been slightly askew and with a few empties in the foreground!)

We also had trouble keeping Sam, the wonderful one-eyed white dog, out of shot, since he’s always up for a party.

Maybe a few words about Sam … we inherited this super-affectionate pooch with the house, since the previous owner couldn’t take him with her, and we didn’t have a dog at the time.

My concerns about dogs, guests and B&Bs generally were completely laid to rest when this white bundle gently turned himself inside out for a pat, and his tail became in serious danger of detaching permanently in its wild delight at attention.

At a guess, he is about nine years old, and a cross between a golden retriever and a border collie. He’d had a busy life as a working sheep dog, but is now confined to supervising when the sheep are being moved by other, non-retired dogs.

Since we came to Stanton in September 2003, a few things have changed in Sam’s life. He no longer has one of his eyes (a victim of skin cancer) or his manhood (don’t know if this is correct terminology, but you get the drift). The removal of the one has meant a cessation of a lot of pain and irritation, the removal of the other a cessation of a lot of wandering and irritation.

Either way, he has bounced back, put on weight (he is a Jenny Craig dog at the moment), and leads a “Golden Pond” type existence, only enhanced by the constant stream of adoring visitors.

“Yes, this is a photo of where we stayed in the Derwent Valley. ‘Stanton’ it’s called, and that’s Sam.” Don’t laugh, guests have returned to the house, simply because they hadn’t taken his photo!