Bluebells and HGD

You know it strikes me that the English language really is inadequate for the purposes of us pups. 

Why so?

See, our noses have, like, a squillion more scent cells than even the most sensitive human wine taster or perfume developer. So of course we would need more words to describe what we experience.

Take, for example, this bluebell wood in Clumber Park, where Gail and I stopped on our way to Nottingham last weekend. 

The aroma was, well, Gail is suggesting words like glorious, exhilarating, intense, fragrant, fresh, powerful.... But none of them even begins to describe what I experienced. You'll just have to imagine it.  

The next day Gail drove Human Grandad to a bluebell wood nearby but I wasn't allowed to accompany them. Something to do with "not wanting to subject HGD to a repeat performance of that racket in the car..." (see 26 May Lake District post).

So annoying. Oh how I wish I could have been with them. Especially given that, when Gail was putting HGD to bed that night, he told her he'd had "a lovely day".

Lake District rendezvous report

Am I the only pup out there whose human can be insufferably smug at times?

OK, OK I admit I was wrong in my last post to doubt the reliability of Gail's prehistoric map and to suggest that it was time she acquainted herself with 21st century technology. And so yes we did arrive for our Lake District dog blogger rendezvous ahead of time and without any navigational 'issues'. Whereas, yes, a certain other participant from the Glasgow did arrive over a hour later and cursing her Satnav.

Well thank goodness I was at least right in predicting that this particular day would be a highlight of my year.

Wow can you imagine, not only did I get to meet the famous terrier 'Gang of Four' (Airedales Molly and Monty, and Welshies Taffy and Winnie) and their humans, but I also encountered my dearest Colorado wire-fox terrier cousins Jake and Fergi (well their flat versions at least) who arrived with Sally and Nina, and then finally there was Vanessa, who had sadly left her unforgettable bassetts Martha and Bailey back home in Scotland.

Happy scritchies

So thrilled to meet flat Fergi and Jake

Bertie leads the way in a walk through Whinlatter Forest 

Terrier action with Winnie, Taffy, Monty and Molly

Steering clear of two HUGE Newfies (or is that all just fluff?)

Not too sure about this eagle either

Time to say fond farewells

Must we really leave them now Gail?

Oh what a happy time we had. I wish the day could have gone on for ever and ever.  Thank you so much to everyone concerned for organising this simply awesome get together.

And no Gail I was not badly behaved in the vehicle with M,M,W and T. I don't at all see why I should be apologizing.

Surely it is polite to converse with your hosts when driving a few miles to the start of a walk?

Over-excitement leads to stress...

Oh my golly gosh I am so excited I am just bouncing for joy this is simply incredible you have no idea what Gail has just whispered in my ear it is a top secret and all I have been told so far is that on Friday morning we are driving down south to the Lake District for a rendezvous with some very special blogging friends including one who has come from all the way across the Pond and I just can't wait to meet them all this will absolutely be the highlight of my year let me have a look at the map and see where we are going...

... oh no Gail is this the only map you have is it really the one you used when you went youth hostelling with your school friend Kathryn in 1976 which was a very hot summer and you caught sunstroke walking over Black Sail Pass from Buttermere to Wastwater let me check out our route are you sure the roads will be the same as they were all that time ago seriously what a disaster it would be if we got lost I must say it's about time you invested in a Satnav isn't it I am so worried that I might not get the chance to meet my pals after all just because you are too mean to spend money on modern technology this is absolutely terrible I am going to be a nervous wreck what can I do.....

Spring time in 'Aboyng' with Bouncing Bertie

OK, strictly speaking, this attractive Deeside village is called 'Aboyne', but we so much prefer the variant suggested a while back by our delightful bi-continental dachshund friend Tootsie.

What fun I had there, anyway, bouncing around exploring on Sunday afternoon.

 

A Park Day Prize: Thank You Finn and Gizmo!

Oh Gail, that looks like an interesting parcel. Is it for me?

Well yes Bertie, in fact it is. All the way from Finn and Charley in New York. Did you know that you won a prize for your Park Day post on 26 April.

A prize? How tremendously exciting! For the poem I wrote about Duthie Park, I presume? At last my literary talents have been recognised and rewarded...

Er Bertie, not so fast. I hate to break it to you pal, but I think you won the prize because your name was pulled out of the hat first, rather than on literary merit.

Oh. Are you quite sure?

(Bertie looks momentarily crestfallen, but soon bounces back).

Whatever. Let's open it up. Hurry hurry!

Oh my gosh that is just brilliant. My very own shark!


And such a pretty card for Gail.


And oh and those chewy things look just great too. A pig and an alligator, if I am not mistaken?


What do you mean Gail, you are going to save them for our next train journey? I am not at all interested in your notion that success in life is strongly linked to an ability to delay gratification. I am a dog, remember. You might at least open up that roll thingy.

Please!

Thank you SO much to both Finn and Gizmo, not only for the wonderful and generous prize gifts, but for organising such a hugely enjoyable and successful Park Day.

I expect most of my friends already know about Park Day 2.0. It all looks so much fun. I do hope I get to take part, despite Gail's constant refrain that she's "too busy just now"...

A trip to Scone Palace

About my performance at the Fair City Dog Agility Competition, Gail has instructed me that the less said the better...

Well that's no problem at all, because I have so much else to tell you about my exciting day out in the grounds of Scone Palace.

Yes I had just the most brilliant time, once I had overcome my slight disappointment on finding out that Scone Palace is an important historic building and nothing at all to do with my predecessor Hamish's favourite teatime foodables...

Did you know that this is where the Kings of Scotland were once crowned?

Today, you only get to see a replica of the famous Stone of Scone, on which the monarchs reputedly sat during their coronation.

(Gail hopes that it will be solid enough to withstand the weight of our future King Alex....)

In the gardens there was this handsome fellow...

and a peacock...

Gail goes all mushy over Highland cattle and especially their calves. I guess I can see her point, although I was not allowed up close. 

I was also not allowed in the gift shop, but Gail spotted the perfect tea towel for our dear friend Jazzi:

Outdoors, there was no shortage of interesting toilet facilities for us pups.

Oh and about the agility show, which took place in the Scone Palace Parklands....

Well frankly I was a bit miffed right from the start as it seemed all the other dogs had been transported there in style, by camper van, whereas we only have the Mini.

Then Gail kept pointing out all these swotty grade 7 collies, and saying "Bertie, see, that's how it's done".

As if that wasn't enough to put one off, the weather couldn't make up its mind what to do.

It was, I must say, a relief to encounter another terrier chappie amongst all the collies and poodles.

I am sure you will want to see the wee video showing the highlights of my own performance...

Now Gail is reminding me that in this blog we always aim to be truthful, and that perhaps the edited highlights do not give a totally accurate impression. 

Oh well then, let's include the long version as well. 

After all, at over two minutes running time, I'm pretty confident that the great majority of my readers will not bother even opening it up...

It is true that I am not a big fan of the seesaw, unless it is adorned with a trail of sausages.

Qui est Milou?

An encounter walking home from the park last week.

A man dressed in casual but stylish clothes, holds the hand of a small boy, presumably his son.

The wee lad points excitedly in my direction.

This is what Gail hears.

"Shang, shang!"

And the father's response.

"Ah oui, c'est Milou! Le chien est Milou, n'est ce pas?"

No. I'm Bertie.

Huh.

Well I s'pose it's better than "where are his wheels?"

The Earth moves for Asta...

OH MY GOODNESS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I WAS TO RECEIVE THIS EMAIL FROM ASTA A FEW DAYS AGO!



Asta

Of course you know my friend Asta, formerly of New York, now of Boo-da-Pest, Hungary? Asta the dearest, sweetest wiry pup that ever lived.
It was her that sent me the lovely 'Welcome baby Bertie' card you can see displayed on the right hand side of my blog.

So I've known Asta my whole life but I must now make a serious confession.

All this time I have been underestimating her. And so, to be honest, has Gail.

You see, whilst we have always been in awe of Asta and her Mommi's amazing creative and artistic talents, as well as her adorable personality and her stunning fashion sense, heretofore we had not realised that Asta also is a scientist of potentially Nobel Prize winning genius.

Yes really!

As we all know, the world's top human geophysicists have spent years and years and millions and millions of pounds and have failed to come up with any sort of reliable system for predicting earthquakes.




And then we have this from Asta:

"Hewo Bewtie

....A few nights ago, we wewe all sitting on the big bed watching a film when Mommi noticed that I stawted panting fow no weason.  She gwabbed me to cuddle and calm me.  Two minutes latew, the whole bed stawted shaking (too bad we didn't have sum mawtini in the shakew). And the small bookcase next to the bed was wattling too.  Mommi and Daddi looked at each othew and said WTF.  Is that an eawfquake???  Sheeesh, we'we not living in LA anymowe.  This isn't sposed to happen hewe.  It didn't last long, but Mommi shook fow a while longew, but as soon as it was ovew, I cuwled up and snept like a log...no panting, no anything...I did twy to tell them, but as yoo know hoomans awe not vewy clevew that way..we of couwse know evewything. I can tell when Daddi gets in the elevatow in the lobby and is about to cum up to the fouf floow....

Love you vewy much
Asta."

Isn't this just the most amazing thing you have ever read?

I feel quite humbled. In fact I doubt now that I even deserve to be considered Blogville's foremost Boffin...

Perhaps Asta and I should be swapping roles?

Oh. Gail is reminding me that my ongoing objection to wearing clothes might be a problem should I take on the mantle of 'fashionista'. That and the lack of doggie boutiques in Aberdeen. And then, neither Gail nor I is artistically gifted in any way.

Better stick with the day job after all.

Click here  if you want to read more about the 22 April Budapest quake.

Or perhaps you'd rather just see another picture of the world's cutest seismologist.

Bedtime pillow fight

We were in Torridon again at the weekend. The weather was a bit 'West Coast' (of Scotland that is, meaning wet) so Gail and I only went for shortish walks this time.

But it's so boring isn't it, at night when your ancient human wants you to lie there quietly and "settle down Bertie", but you are still full of, er, bounce. 

I can't think why Gail makes me sleep in the kitchen in Aberdeen.

A mighty fine newspaper

Taking a break from my exertions in Nottingham last weekend (see previous post) I cast a glance over Human Granny's newspaper. She has recently switched from the Observer to the Sunday Telegraph.

Look what I found on the letters page (you might need to biggify the image).

Wow!

That's what I call a fine newspaper. I mean it is so true, isn't it, that a dog has never deliberately mis-sold Payment Protection Insurance? When Lord Byron was extolling the virtues of his canine companion*, he never thought of that one did he?

I pointed out these splendid examples of correspondence to Gail and asked her if they sell the Telegraph in Scotland and if so, why isn't she already a subscriber?

After all I can't imagine that Daisy Springer (c/o Michael Davies) would ever get a letter to the editor published in one of Gail's beloved Guardians.

*Epitaph to a Dog