Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Double Standards

So Gail consigns me to prison for over two weeks (and no Madi, it was not ‘camp’ and I did not develop any new craft skills nor learn 'fun' campfire songs) and then she has the temerity to complain that I am “a bit smelly, well actually more than a bit” when she comes to pick me up.

Like she was all fresh as a daisy, still in her travelling clothes and unwashed after a sixteen hour journey overnight.

Oh yes, and worse, when I arrived home I detected a distinct whiff of OTHER DOGS emanating from her dirty laundry bag.

On further enquiry I learned that her American friend Marse lives with these two rescue pups, Josh (part dachshund, part Labrador, so Marse was told) and Liddie (more credibly a corgi/ King Charles spaniel cross).

Gail was apparently not the only person to have observed Josh’s brindle coat and queried the story about his parentage. Another friend of Marse’s had earlier noted that certain of the less scrupulous rescue centres in the USA will tell prospective owners a dog is part lab when they really mean part pit bull…

Anyway, you will pleased to know that both Gail and I are now bathed and groomed, the laundry has been fumigated, and I have reclaimed sole rights to my errant owner.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

I'm going on a diet RIGHT NOW!

Gail is back home and I have had a quick scan through her holiday snaps.

I had imagined there would just be endless boring pictures of people riding bicycles.

So imagine my excitement when I came across this.


Yes that's right, a wee chihuahua. Apparently he belongs to a Russian lady who sat next to Gail on the ten hour flight from Seattle to Frankfurt. 

You know, I'm sure there would be room for me under one of those airplane seats. I don't see my long legs and the fact that I am one kilo over Lufthansa's weight limit as an obstacle; do you? And Gail says I have an enviably strong bladder.

I would even be prepared to diet.

Ah, and now here I have found proof that it's not safe to let Gail out of my sight. Look at her, riding her bicycle over Tacoma Narrows Bridge...


OK, there were lots more bike photos too (I'll spare you) but eventually I found something of real interest.


Can you believe Gail didn't bring a packet of these yummy sounding potato crisps/chips home for me?

I mean, for sure they would be an excellent component of a calorie controlled diet designed to bring a wire fox terrier's weight down from nine to a flight-friendly eight kilograms?

I suppose I had better show you the gift I did receive.

 Hmmm. Wow! Totally delicious.

The diet starts tomorrow…

PS from Gail: readers in the USA might be interested to know that our planned bicycle tour, in the Chelan/Omak/Twisp region of Washington State, was hastily reorganised due to the wildfires raging through that area. We ended up riding further south, east of the Cascades, overnighting in Ellensburg, Yakima, Richland  and Othello (for slideshow click here). The skies were hazy and we could still sometimes smell the smoke. We also fitted in a hike near Mount Rainier, went kayaking in Puget Sound, and some days just relaxed. It was all good.

Thursday, 13 August 2015

The Tragic Tale of Tacoma Tubby


So it is true. My worst fears have been confirmed. I am going to be abandoned once again, while Gail flies off to the USA to stay with her friend Marse and, you've guessed it, do yet more cycling.

Last night she showed me the map of where Marse lives. It is a city called Tacoma, in Washington State.

Well, while Gail was at work, I snuck onto the internet and did some research on Tacoma. And you know what? I have decided I am quite happy to be staying at home.

It seems that Tacoma is not a good place to be a dog. Let me explain why I have come to this conclusion.

As (apparently) any engineering student knows, there was a famous disaster in Tacoma in 1940, when a suspension bridge across the Narrows collapsed in a most spectacular manner. You can watch it on YouTube. Fast forward to 2 minutes if you just want to see the break up.

What they don't tell you in this video is that the man who abandoned his car on the bridge, and walked to safety just moments before the structure was ripped apart by the high winds, LEFT HIS OWN DAUGHTER'S DOG INSIDE THE VEHICLE...

Yes, this misfortunate pup, a three legged and part-paralysed spaniel called Tubby, was still in the car as it plunged nearly two hundred feet into the water below. Tubby was the only victim of the disaster. His body was never recovered.

Really, how hard would it have been for the car owner to carry poor Tubby off the bridge too? After all, the man looks quite astonishingly relaxed in the video as he strolls along the rollicking roadway doesn't he?

So now you understand why I'm not petitioning for a passport this time.

PS from Gail: this blog will be quiet for while I am away and Bertie is at 'camp'. Normal service will resume in 2-3 weeks. 

Sunday, 9 August 2015

Detecting a worrying pattern of behaviour

I don't know about you, but I watch my human very carefully indeed.

Any deviation from the normal pattern of behaviour, and I'm onto it like a labrador sniffing a treat-filled pocket from half a mile away.

All summer (well what passes for summer in these parts) Gail has been out on her bicycle every weekend for a few hours, and sometimes in the evening after work too. I'm not saying my walks have been neglected, but the snuggling on the couch together time has not been happening quite as much as I would like.

These last few weeks, the bicycle-related absences have been getting longer and I notice Gail has been returning with a face redder than the frame of her second favourite possession (after me).

I note also there have been purchases of what I believe are cycling jerseys, short sleeved  and of material so thin that if you wore them in Aberdeen you would be hypothermic before you'd ridden to the other side of Duthie Park. Long disregarded sunglasses have been excavated from the back of the box room. High factor suncream has made an appearance on the kitchen table.

On the MacBook, Gail has bookmarked Google Earth and the other day I caught her looking at the profile of the 'Loup Loup Pass' on a website called Strava.com.

I think Gail imagines I haven't worked out that for me this betokens imminent abandonment and a spell in prison.

Humans can be so naive.