Hiraeth, the Welsh Lassie, now coming to a screen near you
COLUMNIST
ON my first day at university the tutor asked me rather wearily: “Are you going to be homesick? The Welsh are always the worst.”
He was right. While the English students happily detached themselves from their respective home counties, I clung for dear life to the umbilical cord that stretched all the way back down the M4 and across the Severn Bridge.
I was desperately homesick. I put a map of the Rhondda above my desk with Llwynypia ringed in gold marker pen. If I held the radio aerial out of the window I could pick up the comforting crackle of a distant Radio Wales signal transmitting the velvet voice of Roy Noble.
And when the longing for Mam and the Land of My Fathers reached an unbearable pitch I used to go to the Oxford branch of Marks & Spencer and pretend I was actually shopping in Ponty.
But hiraeth is a badge of pride, not shame. There is no precise English translation for the word that captures the particular character of Cymric yearning. How could there be?
They’d never understand unique emotion.
And it is such a precious mark of Welsh identity even our dogs have it.
The tale of Pero – the homesick hound who has allegedly trekked 240 miles back from Cumbria to his owner in Ceredigion – is truly inspirational.
The four-year-old Welsh sheepdog, placed on a new farm in Cockermouth, ran off while out herding and turned up back home in Penrhyncoch just 12 days later.
His owners, farmer Alan James and his wife, Shan, had 15 other sheep-herding canines and thought Pero might prefer to be the top dog on an English farm, but the pull of Wales was just too much. Pero had to come home. The intrepid mutt would have had to cover 20 miles a day to complete the journey.
We’re talking a canine challenge of Eddie Izzard proportions. But without the provisions, the sat nav and the physio van.
Everyone has been speculating on Pero’s chosen route. His likely track would have taken him through the Lake District, the moorland of the Forest of Bowland, the old industrial towns of Lancashire, then Merseyside, Chester and the mountains of Snowdonia.
It’s the kind of epic voyage a Game of Thrones wolf might balk at, let alone a humble Welsh sheepdog. And it’s not just about the distance – what about the navigation? I speak this as someone who once ended up in the middle of a field in Pontardawe thanks to my map-reading skills. How can a dog traverse 240 miles without asking for directions? It’s mind-blowing.
But Pero’s master, Alan, reckons he must have a “satnav in his brain”. The farmer added: “a sheepdog can go all day and cover a lot of ground. But it is a mystery how he found his way here. We don’t know how he was fed or if he hitched a lift.
“But it was incredible when he turned up.” Incredible indeed. Imagine the adventures Pero must have had on this remarkable odyssey. It certainly looks as if he was the Bear Grylls of the doggy survival world. As farmer’s wife Shan said: “He wasn’t hungry or weak so he must have managed to find food…he was going crazy after seeing Alan.”
It has to be made into a film. It would be an absolute delight – the perfect Welsh family movie.
It could be done Babe-style with talking animals helping Pero on his way – from the cats of Cumbria to the Red Kites of Mid Wales.
There could be a soundtrack of We’ll Keep A Welcome, lushly orchestrated with a contemporary twist as cool folk songstress Georgia Ruth soothes Pero: “This land you know will still be singing/when you come home again to Wales.”
Imagine that over slow-motion footage of a valiant Welsh sheepdog crossing the border.
There wouldn’t be a dry eye in the house. It would be Lassie Come Home with bells on.
The cinematography would be stunning too – Pero’s incredible journey is the definition of the scenic route. And there would be landmarks he would pass that could embellish his escapades.
He could rest a while at Wordsworth’s cottage in the Lake District – and hear the poet’s lovely canine verses, Incident Characteristic of a Favourite Dog and Tribute to the Memory of the Same Dog.
He could scoot past the spooky Pendle Hill in the Forest of Bowland as fast as his four legs would take him. This is the site of the 17th-century Pendle Witch Trials, and as Yvette Fielding will tell you, the scariest-ever episode of Living TV’s Most Haunted.
He could hang out in the Cavern Club in Liverpool – and listen to A Day In The Life.
This final song on The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album has a short section of audio that only dogs can hear.
And he could savour the splendour of Snowdonia – and try not to be distracted by several hundred sheep – on the final leg of his amazing expedition.
But most of all there would be the continuing jeopardy vital for any road-trip narrative.
Will he or won’t he make it? Will he hitch a lift from a White Van Man and go 100 miles in the wrong direction? Can he cross the A55 and survive being pursued by the North Wales Police?
So get cracking, BBC Wales. This is a Welsh Lassie for the 21st century. And there’s just one possible title for the epic adventures of Pero the wonder sheepdog – Hiraeth.