Meet Nettle

Actually her name is Trixi but I don't like that. Nettle lives at a campsite somewhere between Newport and Dinas. We didn't know this though.
As we were hiking along she found us and we made the mistake of petting her.
It was love at first sight.

She started following us instantly, weaving between our legs and then running forward only to turn around to check that we were still coming too. 

We thought she belonged to an older woman who was walking the trail about a quarter mile ahead of us. "She must not be that concerned." we thought. "They obviously walk the trail a lot."

And so we quickly adopted Nettle and so much enjoyed having a hiking companion.

She would go plowing through bushes and firing around corners and when we finally caught up to her she would be sitting, patiently waiting for us. We would pat her on the head and then she would take off again. Sometimes she would poke her head around the corner just to check that we were still there.
Occasionally she would run up and visit the woman way ahead of us. The woman would sit down and have a break and pet Nettle.

A little over a mile from where we met Nettle, we met up with the older woman sitting on the bench. "I seem to have made a friend." she said to us. 

"You mean she's not yours?" Lukas said to her. 

"I thought she was yours!" the woman exclaimed. 

In unison, the three of us let out an "Oh no!" while Nettle smiled up at us with her candy eyes.

The woman said she was about to turn around anyways so she would walk her back to town. We thanked her and said goodbye to Nettle and kept on walking the trail. It took some convincing to get Nettle to follow the woman and I secretly hoped she wouldn't so that I could keep her forever. Finally they disappeared around the corner and Lukas and I sulked to ourselves, disappointed that we couldn't take her back to Cardiff with us. Just moments later she came flying around the corner, wiggling with excitement, and looking at us with anticipation. In the distance the woman stood with her hands in the air. A shrug of surrender. Nettle had a collar with only some numbers and she had clearly wiggled free of whatever she was tied to. We decided we would take her back to town and try to find her family. Once the reality of not finding her family set in and having to take her back to Cardiff with us, it wasn't quite so charming a thought.

Just 3 minutes after turning around, we ran into some hikers who told us her name is Trixi and that she belongs to the campsite and knew this trail very well. "She knows the way home." they told us and just a few minutes later Nettle ran off into the distance. Never to be seen again. 

As a fun fact, I named her Nettle after a plant in these parts. Stinging Nettles. They are EVERYWHERE. And they sting. They look like mint leaves and you just have to lightly brush past them and you get a irritating little rash of red bumps that itch and burn. Nerdsy Lukas of course knows what plant counteracts the sting of nettles and will go find the "Doc plant" and rub away your sorrows. I perpetually fell into pods of nettles or managed to rub my 1 inch of exposed ankle skin across a stalk or two. 

Nettles sting your skin. Nettle stung my heart.