There's no escaping...

Clochandighter Woods

So one advantage of all this dry weather we've been having in Aberdeen is that I get taken on nice walks to localities deemed, in normal conditions, too boggy (see above).

You would think, wouldn't you, that the lack of mud might also translate into a suspension of the tedious routine of daily paw washing which has been in continuous operation in this household ever since last year when I went to see the dermatologist in Glasgow about my interdigital cyst problems.

You might think so but you would be wrong. What Gail calls "the precautionary principle", I call an unnecessary imposition.

What's even more irritating is how these standing in the sink sessions are inevitably announced in cringe-inducing baby talk, as Gail extracts me from my hiding place under the desk in the study and carries me through to the kitchen, holding me tightly in what she pretends is just an affectionate cuddle.

"Come on little chummy-wummy. It's time to give those pawsies a wee rinse, isn't it now?"

So humiliating. As if I were not a full eight and a third years old...

Oh and by the way, pleased to report that my 'pawsies' are just hunky-dory right now.